Amanda Scott (37 page)

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Authors: The Bawdy Bride

“Hello, my dear,” he exclaimed. “Coming along to see the grand sight, are you?”

“Well, sir,” she said, forcing a smile and trying to decide if she should tell him Andrew was missing, “I did think I’d have a look. I suppose there must be quite a crowd of folks there.”

“No, there ain’t,” he said. “Just my two lads, standing guard. We don’t encourage gawkers, you see, on account of wanting to admit only those who purchase subscription tickets. Makes them much more valuable, don’t you think? Pity you didn’t come along a half hour ago, though. Took Hermie up, I did.”

“Goodness,” Anne said, adding when she remembered the unexpected length of her own voyage, “but how could you have done such a thing and be here now, sir? Where did you come down?”

“Kept the
Great Britain
on a tether,” he said smugly. “Didn’t even rise above the hilltop. Just wanted to give Hermie a taste of what it will be like tomorrow, and then too, we wanted to fill the bag enough to be certain it suffered no leaks in being transported. Seemed an excellent chance to show Hermie how the new valve works, and to get some practice with the mechanism myself, since it’s a bit different from the old one.”

“No one else went with you?”

“Not a soul,” he said, grinning. “You afraid for Hermie’s virtue, my dear? Assure you, no need to be.”

“No need at all, you knave,” Lady Hermione said. “Since I can manage the thing as well as you do yourself, and wouldn’t need you to get down again even if we hadn’t been tethered, one finger out of place and I’d have pitched you over the side.”

He grimaced, saying, “Dash it, Hermie, don’t make ridiculous threats. You’re always doing it, and you know dashed well you’d never do any such thing. You preach resolution, but the fact of the matter is you are as meek and proper as the next female.”

“I am not,” she snapped.

“Well, don’t look as if I’ve insulted you,” he retorted. “That was by way of being a compliment. I may tease the life out of you about being too timid ever to attempt a real adventure, but if you ever did even the half of the things you threaten to do, you’d put yourself beyond the pale, woman. Think of that!”

“Poppycock.” Turning pointedly to Anne, she said, “Do you mean to go look at the thing? It is a pretty bag, I can tell you—green and gold stripes—and larger than the
Royal George.”

“No, if you mean to go up to the house, I’ll go with you, of course. I look forward to a comfortable coze with you.”

“Tried to talk her into a nuncheon, myself,” Lord Ashby said, “but she will have it that she can’t stay. She was on her way to the village to post a letter to the Chesterfield registry office, of all things.”

“The village?” Anne realized that she ought to have thought of the village before.

Lady Hermione grimaced expressively. “Yes, and I mustn’t linger, I’m afraid. I’ve already spent too much time with Ashby and his aerostat, for I promised Wilfred I’d take a letter into the village for him, you see, so the postboy can take it with him when he leaves at two for Chesterfield. Wilfred forgot to hand it to him when the morning post was delivered, and so now, if you please, it’s got to go at once, today.”

“It must be important then,” Anne said. Still trying to think what she ought to do, she was not really listening.

“Oh, important is as important does, of course, but Wilfred is in a state, to be sure, for he received notice from his housekeeper. Just as I foretold, the thoughtless woman intends to marry her mama’s doctor, and to think I once fretted over having too little to do at the Hall! Now Wilfred turns to me for everything, expecting me to manage his household for him, so that he can save a few pounds a month. But I won’t do it, and so another housekeeper must be hired as soon as one can be found.”

Making up her mind, Anne said casually, “I hope you will stop by on your return, ma’am, and perhaps stay to dine with us—that is, if your brother will not object.”

“Much good it would do him if he did,” Lord Ashby said with a chuckle.

“Oh, go along with you, Ashby,” Lady Hermione said, adding when he just grinned at her, “No, no, I mean it now. I want a private word with Anne.”

“Very well, but mind you don’t let that gray nag of yours run away with you,” he advised, turning away to ascend the steps, swinging his stick in a jaunty manner.

“Odious man,” she said, watching him. “Now, my dear, what is troubling you? No, don’t poker up, I can see that something is amiss. Tell me.”

“I own, I am a little troubled,” Anne confessed. “Andrew threatened to show Michael that he is his own master, and now he seems to have disappeared again. I’m afraid he might have gone into the village, but I don’t know for certain, or I would go after him myself. I have not even made a proper search here. Indeed, till Lord Ashby mentioned the village, I never thought—”

“Say no more. Ashby told me what happened last night, and I understand your fears. Andrew seems determined to flout Michael’s every order, does he not? I shall keep my eyes open in the village, I promise you, and if I see him, I’ll send him straight home with a flea in his ear. You may rely on me.”

Watching her ride off, Anne hoped she was not making a mistake by not organizing a collective effort to find Andrew. Reluctant to stir up a fuss, she decided to search for a time on her own, and await Lady Hermione’s return. An hour passed before she remembered Sylvia’s guilty behavior and wondered if she had knowledge of her brother’s whereabouts.

Hurrying to the nursery, she found the child alone with her nurse and looking not a little disconcerted to see her.

“What have you done with your new governess?” Anne asked in her usual calm manner, but watching Sylvia narrowly when she did.

Moffat answered, “Our nice Miss Johnson has gone away to change her dress, my lady, so we can show her over the gardens after we have our bit of nuncheon, which they will be serving in the schoolroom in just a few minutes now.”

Still watching Sylvia, Anne said, “Moffat, have you forgotten that Lady Sylvia can speak for herself now?”

The nurse chuckled. “Not likely, ma’am, though I did just answer your question out of plain habit to speak for her, I suspect. But it ain’t likely I’ll forget she can talk again, for she’s been just chattering away all morning long, making up for lost time, I suppose we ought to say.”

“Well, I wish to speak with her privately for a moment,” Anne said, noting that Sylvia seemed reluctant even to look at her, let alone to enjoy a private chat. “Perhaps you can go to fetch Miss Johnson, Moffat, so that she knows where to go. I have not taken time yet to explain her duties to her, or even to think about where she will generally take her meals. In time, I expect, she will accompany Sylvia to the family table when we do not dine in company, but for now, you may tell her that she and Sylvia will take their meals here with you.”

“Yes, your ladyship.”

Anne said nothing more until the nurse had gone, leaving her alone with Sylvia, who was looking more uncomfortable than ever. She looked at her feet and fidgeted until the door had shut behind Moffat. Then, when Anne still did not speak, the child finally looked at her.

“I think you have something to tell me,” Anne said gently.

Sylvia shook her head.

“Come now, darling, this is no time to forget how to speak. I wondered when I brought Miss Johnson up to you why you looked so oddly at me. Have you done something naughty?”

Sylvia shook her head again.

“This will not do, Sylvia,” Anne said, her tone stern now. “When you could not speak, such a reply was acceptable. It no longer is, however. Respond to my question properly, if you please. Have you done something naughty?”

“No, Aunt Anne. At least …” Her brow wrinkled as she considered the matter.

“Well?”

Sylvia looked directly at her at last. “If a person obeys one person, but in obeying him is maybe vexing another person, is that being naughty?”

Anne gave a sigh of relief. “Then you do know where that wretched boy is. Tell me at once.”

“But I don’t know,” Sylvia said. “At least, if you mean Andrew, he did not say where he was going.”

Realizing that she had taken a misstep, Anne said at once, “Perhaps you had better explain the matter from the beginning.”

“Will you be cross with me?”

“I don’t know,” Anne said honestly. “It would be foolish of me to promise not to be if what you are going to tell me is something that will make me cross with you. If all you did was obey a command that Andrew gave you, I probably will be cross with him, not you. I can tell you, however, that if you do not explain matters quickly now, you will vex me very much. When did you see Andrew last?”

“When I got up this morning, I went to tell him I could talk again. He was still having his breakfast, and Mr. Pratt had not come in yet, so we were able to talk alone for a few moments. He was very pleased, and he said it quite decided him to do what he must to show Uncle Michael that he was a force to be reckoned with, and not a mere child to be ordered about. I asked him what he meant, but he would not explain. He said only that he had to make haste if he was to succeed, and he scribbled a letter.”

“To whom?”

“To Uncle Michael, and he made me promise not to give it to anyone else who might come looking for him, and not even to Uncle Michael until tomorrow morning when, Andrew said, it will be quite too late for him to stop him doing what he means to do. He said I should just tell everyone that I don’t know anything. But I don’t think,” the little girl said with a shudder, “that I could have told lies to Uncle Michael, even for Andrew.”

“I should hope not,” Anne said. “Where is the letter?”

After a pause, Sylvia said, “You know. My secret place.”

“Run and fetch it, please, at once.”

Sylvia obeyed, and once Anne held the sealed letter in her hand, and saw that it was indeed addressed in Andrew’s bold but scrawling hand to Lord Michael, she hesitated only a moment at the thought that she should not read a note addressed to someone else before she cast her scruples to the wind and ripped it open.

Sir:

I take leave to inform you that, having had a surfeit of your discipline, I have decided to take matters into my own hands. Henceforward, I shall answer to no one but myself. As a first step toward that end, I have decided to marry Fiona Flowers, since to do so will resolve both her problem and mine.

She has always been most kind to me. Moreover, she once told me she would be glad to be my wife, and would marry me in an instant, were the opportunity truly hers. Once I have informed her of my sentiments and have explained matters properly to her, I have no doubt that she will agree to elope to Scotland with me.

Upminster

Nineteen

“W
HAT DID ANDREW WRITE?”
Sylvia asked in a small voice.

Scarcely heeding her, Anne looked helplessly at the note, trying to convince herself that she did not believe it. Glancing at last at the anxious child, she said, “He wants to do something foolish, my dear, but I mean to stop him, so you must not fret. Say nothing to anyone about this letter, unless by some mischance your uncle should return from Castleton before I have found your brother. Then, if he should ask you about Andrew, tell him only that you gave me a letter he had written and that I am attending to the matter. You need not say what was in the letter.”

“I don’t know what is in it,” Sylvia pointed out. “But what will you do, Aunt Anne?”

“I don’t know,” Anne admitted, “but you can help me by going along now to eat your nuncheon with Moffat and Miss Johnson, and by keeping silent about this. Can you do that?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.” Catching up her skirt, Anne went in search of Bagshaw, encountering him on the stairs to the front hall.

“Bagshaw, do you know when Lord Michael means to return?”

“I am sure I could not say, madam.”

“Does that mean you do not know, or that you will not tell me?” she demanded impatiently.

He seemed to stiffen at her tone, but collected himself at once and said in his usual polite way, “Lord Michael has driven in his post-chaise to Castleton, madam, to look into some matter or other to do with the mine. With a pair of horses and one postillion, such as he had this morning, to get there and back takes at least three hours, perhaps more, and one cannot doubt that his purpose in going there must occupy rather more time than that. May I be of service to you, perhaps?”

“No, thank you,” Anne said distractedly. She turned away only to turn back, saying, “Have you seen His Grace today?”

“Not since breakfast, madam. I believe he left the house soon afterward.”

“I see.” She thought quickly. Andrew had several hours’ head start, but although she did not doubt that he believed the extraordinary notion he had taken into his head, she could not imagine that Mrs. Flowers would agree to it. Even if it was a bit late to hope Lady Hermione might find the boy still kicking his heels in the village—for even Andrew would not have been so unmannerly as to present himself before he was certain Mrs. Flowers was up and decently clad to receive him—surely, the woman would send him straight home again. In any case, Michael’s discovery of this latest start must somehow be prevented. The thought of the painful scene that would undoubtedly follow such discovery stirred Anne to gather her wits.

Forcing her attention back to the patient butler, she said, “Is Lord Ashby still in the house, or has he gone out again?”

“I believe his lordship is in his sitting room, madam, examining the final preparations for tomorrow’s ascension.”

With a sigh of relief that yet another obstacle had not been flung into her path, Anne hurried to find Lord Ashby.

He looked up when she entered his pleasant little sitting room, and said cheerfully, “Hello again, my dear. You will be most pleased to hear that we have collected more than enough subscriptions to cover the entire cost of tomorrow’s expedition.”

“Never mind all that now, sir. We have something much more important to discuss, I’m afraid.”

“Nonsense, what could be more important than the ascension? What with that penny-pinching nephew of mine carrying on over every few hundred pounds’ worth of inflammable air, I thought—since the subscriptions were your own notion, you know—that you would be delighted to learn how well they have succeeded.”

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