Lady Susan Plays the Game (28 page)

My dear Lady Susan,

Your daughter Frederica Vernon is safe. I found her wandering the streets and took her to the tavern by the Haymarket, where I had her put to bed until she could be taken back to school or, better, to her mother. She is innocent of any wrongdoing except the escapade of leaving her school alone. I trust you will be lenient with her.

The previous shock of her daughter's flight paled beside this one. How dare this man – for man she assumed it was – address her so familiarly and take so much on himself? How did he know her and Frederica? Had the girl really told a perfect stranger her name and the name of her mother? She shuddered. Was Frederica really worth rescuing?

She pulled herself together and hurried out to where Mrs Vernon was standing in the hall. Her husband was being helped into his greatcoat by his man.

‘She has been found,' gasped Lady Susan. ‘Such a relief. The dear girl is at an inn by the Haymarket. Don't ask me how she got there. It's too horrible.' She turned away to swallow, for indeed at the mention of such a place her anger rose in her throat. Not even Sir James would have Frederica if this incident became widely known. ‘Madam Dacre appears in two minds whether to take her back,' she added.

‘Oh, Lady Susan,' exclaimed Mrs Vernon, ‘there can be no choice. She must come here to us. However intractable she is proving, she is your daughter and my niece. We must do all we can for her.'

‘You are so very kind,' said her sister-in-law and sighed. ‘She has always been such a difficult child. I don't know …' and she looked away again.

‘But here she will be in a family,' pursued Mrs Vernon. ‘I don't mean …' she stopped.

The unfinished sentence seems to be the mode this morning,
thought Lady Susan.

‘Of course, dear sister, it will be so good for her to be in such a happy family and to get to know her little cousins.'

Her mind was racing. Would Frederica use the journey to confide in Charles Vernon about events at Langford? How much did she know? Mrs Manwaring was unlikely to have told everything to her daughter and through whom else could Frederica have had the gossip? More likely she might explain to her uncle why she'd left school. Madam Dacre seemed convinced that Frederica had been avoiding Sir James – how ridiculously he'd behaved. Charles was soft-hearted and the child's plight might make him ask leading questions.

Still, whatever happened in the carriage, Lady Susan believed she had the skill to talk a cleverer man than her brother-in-law round to her way of thinking and, she hoped, before he had time to discuss matters with his wife. Once in Churchill Frederica would be too much in awe of her mother to talk out of turn. About Sir James and the discreditable adventure she would need an express command to keep for ever silent.

As Charles Vernon left, Lady Susan whispered to him that, although she appreciated the invitation to Churchill, it might still be best if Frederica could be prevailed on to return to school, provided Madam Dacre would have her. The girl had, after all, shown herself greatly in need of education. Mr Vernon nodded.

Back in her room with Charles Vernon already on the road Lady Susan wondered for a moment if she should have had Frederica sent to Alicia Johnson instead of being brought back to Churchill. But Mr Johnson would almost certainly have prevented it. Had Frederica been going to the Johnsons when she left the school? She doubted it – it was too sensible an idea. Besides she wouldn't know whether the Johnsons were in or out of town. Given her attachment to her childhood home, she had probably been thinking of returning to Someyton, perhaps to old Nanny in Wymondham. Or possibly she was so stupid that she'd simply left the school with no idea where she was going. Could there be someone else in the case? If so who? It was all so gothic. Lady Susan would have to question Frederica very closely when she got to Churchill. A night in an inn, there was the rub. The stupid, stupid child, she exclaimed aloud as she paced her dressing room. Yet, if Lady Susan remained convinced of
anything, it was that Frederica must have Sir James in the end. She would not be thwarted by the perversities of either young person.

Barton was laying out the evening clothes. She had a good idea of what had happened, but she knew she was not supposed to comment. She gave Lady Susan sympathetic looks, which her mistress, who disapproved of familiarity in principle, found surprisingly soothing.

There was a knock on her dressing-room door.

‘Who on earth can that be?'

‘Shall I say your ladyship is indisposed?

‘Yes, anything,' muttered her mistress wearily.

Barton went to the door and returned at once. ‘It is Mr de Courcy,' she whispered. ‘Shall I show him in?'

Lady Susan paused. She felt the usual resentment of a woman caught at her toilette. Then she realised that, with the flush of anger at Frederica and with her own slight dishabille, she probably looked rather fetching. ‘Yes, yes, show him in.' She did not rise.

‘My dear Lady Susan,' he cried, rushing across the room towards her, ‘I have heard the dreadful news.'

Yes I dare say
, she thought.
I dare say everybody in the house has heard it. Mrs Vernon must be in her element.

‘It is terrible,' she sighed. ‘The poor child, whatever her errors, she must have been so unhappy – though her action is very wrong.'

He pressed her hand.

‘But your sister has been kind enough to invite her here. She doesn't, I fear, deserve, such consideration but I'm very grateful that Mrs Vernon has been so tolerant.'

Reginald had seen her maternal distress: that was enough. Lady Susan had no wish to prolong the interview. So she fell silent. Reginald pressed her hand again and left quietly so that she could grieve alone.

‘She is an admirable woman,' he murmured as he passed his sister in the corridor.
Lady Susan was glad he'd left so briskly for now she could read the other letter. It was in the dear familiar handwriting. She settled herself down to enjoy the usual flattering words.

Barton brought her some green tea just as she liked it and she was raising a dainty china bowl to her lips when she read something that made her hastily put it down again. ‘He can't,' she exclaimed. ‘Oh really.'

Manwaring's love, she read, had grown so flaming that he could not stay a minute longer without seeing her, touching her, feeling her … she skipped the detail and read further down. He would leave Langford, niftily disguise himself, and come to lodge in an inn near Churchill. She could steal out and meet him whenever she got a chance. It would be delicious.

The word ‘inn' uncomfortably fused the two events, one real, one still imaginary. It was intolerable. Neither Frederica nor Manwaring seemed to know the value of decorum. Lady Susan cared not a fig for propriety as a moral state but as social covering she cared for it a very great deal, and she despised those who seemed unaware of its power and use. She couldn't stop Frederica arriving at Churchill, however she disliked the idea, but she must certainly prevent Manwaring.

She put the letter away intending to burn it later. Then she moved to her dressing table so that Barton could put the finishing touches to her face and hair. When both were to her liking she felt she needed a change of scenery, so went to the library to write her response to Manwaring. It would go the usual way through Alicia, but it must be sent at once to avoid further delay. She took out paper from the bureau and a new pen and began.

She needed to be quite explicit. The only way with Manwaring was to promise him even greater delights in the future, probably in London. That was easy and her colour rose as she used all her arts to persuade him to postpone desire.

Mrs Vernon had watched Lady Susan go into the library and quietly followed her in. Standing at the other side of the room she gazed at the writer and thought she saw the colour mounting to her cheeks. She felt a pang of guilt at her continuing dislike. Clearly Lady Susan was now pouring out her misery over her ungrateful daughter to her friends Mrs Manwaring and Mrs Johnson.

She thought how she would feel if dear Arabella had acted as Frederica had done. But the spark of self-love ignited and she knew that her well-brought-up children would not act so, nor would she ever send her daughter away to school. Still, she could not but feel just a little sorry for her sister-in-law in this predicament and think again how pleasant it was to have a husband to command and a house full of promising children.

Her self-approbation made her, just for the moment, feel a little more kindly towards Lady Susan and she tiptoed out of the room to give her space to herself. Yet, when she'd left she at once regretted her action: for all her ease in company Lady Susan managed to be private and Mrs Vernon was curious to know what she said and wrote to her friends – though she didn't imagine she could easily have read her letter. The spider image that had come into her mind earlier had lodged there and couldn't be erased. She saw all Lady Susan's friends and acquaintances strung out on her web, all separately attached by different strands.

The next morning was chill with light snow tumbling past the windows. Lady Susan woke tired. As so often she wished she'd resorted to laudanum at the proper time, but, when she had gone to bed, her brain had been racing and she thought she might benefit from a few hours of thinking before trying to sleep. Now she felt sluggish while not having profited from her night hours awake. But she was soon ready for the day. It held some challenges.

At breakfast she learnt that a message had been sent on from Charles Vernon to his wife telling her to expect him and Frederica that afternoon. Madam Dacre would not take the girl back. So that was that. He'd pleaded but she had been adamant, even hinting at something he didn't care to interrogate. Lady Susan had hoped that Mr Vernon's obvious respectability and signs of wealth would have impressed the headmistress, but obviously not. She doubted he'd brought much eloquence to bear on the matter.

She was sipping tea with Mrs Vernon and Reginald in the blue morning room when they heard the carriage arrive. She felt the eyes of the others on her as the wheels crunched the icy gravel. For a moment Mrs Vernon imagined what it must be like to be the mother of a girl who had acted so perversely. Lady Susan saw the emotion, and tears obediently rose to her beautiful grey eyes. Reginald walked over to pat her hand. The action crushed the tiny shoots of sympathy in his sister's breast. She watched Lady Susan closely.

Yes, she was really upset. She was more agitated than Mrs Vernon had ever seen her. Yet there was something disturbing in her sister-in-law's manner, even if she could not quite say what. The nascent sympathy did not return.

The usual bustle was heard in the hallway. The travellers shed their outer garments and servants came forward to take them. Jeffrey brought in Frederica's box and carried it upstairs. Then Charles Vernon entered the morning room. He was almost dragging his niece with him.

Frederica had been silent through much of the journey, relieved that her uncle had not pressed her to talk; it was a kind restraint. On his part he had noted her strained white face and the way she sat hunched in the corner as if she feared her body would take up too
much room. To him she appeared timid and sad: he worried that if he spoke she would burst into tears. He hated women's tears. Was the girl terrified of him? Surely she would recover when she saw her mother. He and his wife would make her welcome at Churchill whatever she'd done.

While the others looked on, Lady Susan embraced her daughter. Mrs Vernon had stood up to greet the girl and could not help noticing her slight shrinking at Lady Susan's touch. She also noticed that the eyes that had so recently been wet with tears were now dry.

They all sat down. ‘Some tea or chocolate,' said Mrs Vernon brightly. ‘Or something else? You must be in need of refreshment after your journey.'

Frederica shook her head slightly. She hardly caught her aunt's eye as she whispered ‘No, thank you.' Beyond that she seemed tongue-tied.

Perhaps this was the sullenness Lady Susan had had to cope with. But there was something about the girl that, to Mrs Vernon, made her seem more pathetic than perverse.

The others accepted the tea and the things were brought in. Now that she saw Frederica, Lady Susan was even more cross and, while raising her bowl to her lips, she gave her daughter a look that indicated just how put out she was by her unforeseen arrival at Churchill.

Frederica caught the look. Her nerves had been strung tight for so long: she had tried hard to control herself both with Madam Dacre and then with Mr Vernon. Now it was all too much: the strange house, her mother's hostile glance. She burst into convulsive tears.

Lady Susan got up swiftly and, taking her daughter by the arm, shepherded her out of the room and upstairs towards her own dressing room.

Mrs Vernon heard the footsteps retreating. She was sure Frederica was miserable –but exactly why she didn't know. Her prejudices against the girl began to fall away. What might she do? Would Frederica benefit from the tonic pills that had helped her through moments of languor after the children's births? They had a tincture of Peruvian bark in them and that always did one good. She would seek an opportunity to suggest the remedy. Just then she looked up and caught Reginald staring at the door through which Lady Susan had left. His face expressed such rapt admiration that she grew impatient again. Could her brother be such a simpleton?

Catherine Vernon felt like quitting the room herself, but she stayed on in case her husband had more to convey. She feared he'd not taken advantage of his time alone with the girl. Had she been with Frederica in a carriage for several hours she would certainly have ended by knowing what all this was about and what exactly Frederica had done and why. She would also have ferreted out of her how she felt about her resplendent mother. But Charles was unusually taciturn on the subject. He was fluent about Madam Dacre and her determination not to take back girls who were intent on ruining their reputations, but he had nothing to say of events before this meeting.