Geoff was incredulous. “You can’t mean it, sir. I am by far too young.”
“I have seen how you kept a large garden in order by the sweat of your own brow. Do you not think yourself capable of learning to run an estate? It will be several years yet before Denton retires, but he needs an assistant immediately. I know no one I had rather employ.”
“I can do it. I’ll do it! I’ll make you glad you chose me, sir, wait and see!”
“I’m sure you will. In the meantime, you will post down to Hampshire today to look around, and you will not return until your face is fit to be viewed by a gentle female. I shall tell Hester you are gone to discover whether Alton Court is worthy of your attentions before you commit yourself. I engage myself to convince her and James of the wisdom of your decision. Now ring the bell, if you please. No, do not thank me. I am merely taking advantage of your need to remove yourself from town!”
* * * *
Any lingering misgivings Hester and Jamie may have felt were dismissed when Geoffrey returned to Paddington a week later, bubbling with enthusiasm. Alton Court was the finest house in the world, the land the richest possible, well-wooded and well-watered, the cornfields beginning to green in the April sun. He might lodge with Mr. and Mrs. Denton, and Hester need not fear that he would starve, for Mrs. Denton was a famous cook.
“Not as good as you, of course,” he said judiciously. “Just in the simple style, you know. And you should see the horses! I may ride whenever I have time.”
Three days later, he had packed his bags and left.
* * * *
The house would have seemed very empty after he left if it had not been for Cousin Florabel. Every time Hester approached the subject of her departure, she collapsed in floods of tears and vowed she would die in debtors’ prison. Hester was not proof against such tactics, though she berated herself for a hen-hearted craven.
Lord Alton would have been more than happy to eject the self-declared widow, but Hester’s pride forbade her requesting his aid, and he did not feel it was his place to intervene unasked. So Florabel stayed, and his lordship exerted himself to remove his beloved from the house during those hours when the unwanted guest was about.
To this end, he decided it was time to tackle his sister. In the hope of killing two birds with one stone, he approached her in a roundabout fashion.
“I’ve been speaking to young Terence,” he opened without preliminaries. “The boy is worried that his studies are not advancing. I wish to hire a secretary, and I have an excellent young man in view.”
“I fail to see the connexion,” pronounced Lady Ariadne severely.
“I do not at present require his services full-time. If he were to teach my nephew a couple of hours a day, I should feel justified in engaging him now against future need. I should of course pay his entire salary.”
Lady Ariadne was persuaded to assent, though she was uncertain whether her brother was doing her a favour or vice versa. She dismissed such idle speculation from her mind.
“It is most gratifying that you are at last taking your family responsibilities seriously,” she informed him. “George tells me you invited him to make one of a party to Vauxhall Gardens last night. It was no more than due to him as your heir, of course. He mentioned a Miss Godric:
Miss Alice Godric’s half sister, I believe. It is curious that I have not heard Lady Bardry speak of her.”
Little did she realise how she was delivering herself into his hands. Hearing her maliciously triumphant tone, he knew that she had somehow ferreted out Hester’s background. It seemed possible that her desire to annoy her intimate friend might be stronger than her exaggerated ideas of what was due to her own consequence. Throwing caution and his careful but complicated plans to the winds, he decided to concentrate on that aspect.
“Miss Godric’s grandfather was in trade, as were the progenitors of so many members of present-day society, and Lady Bardry is ashamed of the connexion. She does not wish it known. I daresay she would be thrown into high fidgets if she supposed Miss Godric might enter the Fashionable World. She is a well-bred young woman, and I am heartily sorry for her. Miss Alice does not like to see her so isolated.”
Lady Ariadne had her own opinion of her brother’s predilection for the company of Miss Alice. To be sure, the girl was very different from his usual flirts, but her only attraction was her beauty, and her ladyship had little fear that he would be brought to the church door by such a bird-witted widgeon as she had discovered Alice to be. He would soon tire of her, but in the meantime might she not seize the opportunity to put Lady Bardry to the blush?
“Good breeding, you say,” she murmured thoughtfully. “I shall invite her to my musicale on Friday week.”
“An excellent notion,” agreed Lord Alton coolly. He felt as if he had landed a salmon while fishing for trout.
Hester was astonished to receive an engraved card of invitation from Lord and Lady Charworthy to hear Miss Corn and Mr. Welsh perform operatic duets accompanied upon the pianoforte by Mr. C. Potter. Not unnaturally, she immediately jumped to the conclusion that this was Lord Alton’s doing.
“Not a bit of it,” he denied when she taxed him with it. “Entirely my sister’s idea, though she did mention it to me.”
“I cannot possibly go. I expect Lady Bardry will be there, and besides, I have nothing to wear.”
Wisely, his lordship concentrated on the second problem, which was much easier to overcome.
“I took the liberty of consulting Alice on the subject,” he told her smugly. “She has already begun to alter a suitable gown, and she assures me there is no difficulty, because you are much slighter than she. She will bring it for final adjustments on Sunday.”
“Alice needs all her dresses!”
“You cannot expect her to continue to wear the same ones forever. It would present a very odd appearance, I assure you. On a different person, it will seem like a different gown. There, surely I have demolished your objections.”
“But I do not even
like
opera!”
“Nor do three-quarters of the people who will attend. I daresay it will be a very dull evening, though Ariadne always provides an excellent supper, I’ll give her that.”
“I should not go. Only how can I offend your sister by declining? It is excessively kind in her to invite me. Shall . . . shall you be there?”
“I? Why, I had hoped to escort you. I’d not leave you to face the dragon alone. Unless you have another cavalier waiting hidden in the wings?”
“You know I do not, but surely there are other ladies who have more claim upon you than I.”
“Nary a one!” he assured her cheerfully. “Now, write a note of acceptance, and I will deliver it to Charles Street myself.”
He was on the point of departing when Robbie came in. “Good morning, sir,” he greeted his lordship.
“Good morning, Rob. Have you been seeing much of Frederick lately?”
“Oh yes, sir, nearly every day.”
“And his manners are no end improved,” put in Hester.
“Mr. Wallace makes me mind. I shan’t see them today, though. Jamie promised to take me to the docks. I asked if Freddy could come, but he said one thatchgallows brat at a time was more than enough, and he did not like to ask Mr. Wallace to come too.”
“If you and James are ready, I am going to White’s and will set you on your way.”
“In your curricle?
Thank
you, sir!”
* * * *
Lord Alton dropped the boys at the end of St. James’ Street, informed his groom that he would walk home, and headed for his club. He had spent very little time at White’s recently, having better things to do than to exchange scandalous gossip and lay wagers on his own and others’ skill at riding, driving, shooting, or boxing. His purpose today was to consult a fellow member about the young man he intended to employ as his secretary. But after his business was successfully concluded, he found himself drawn into conversation with a number of friends and acquaintances. None of them found it necessary to inform him that his own name at present figured prominently in the Betting Book. His changed habits had convinced the most cautious gamblers that he was in the market for a wife; the only questions were when and to whom he would get riveted. This last had everyone in a puzzle, for Alice Godric was hardly eligible, yet he seemed to favour no one else.
While his lordship was fending off the good-natured inquisitiveness of his erstwhile companions, James and Robbie had reached the East End and the dockyards. They lunched on a couple of meat pies purchased from a street vendor, and then wandered along the river looking at the shipping, Robbie in ecstasies, Jamie with increasing boredom.
By the time they reached the East India Docks, half the afternoon had passed. Rob’s enthusiasm was no whit diminished, while James was wishing he had allowed his brother to pester Lord Alton into taking him.
“You go ahead and look,” he proposed. “I’m going to sit on this bollard for a while.” Mindful of his promise to Hester, he watched Robbie’s every move, but gradually his thoughts wandered to a difficult bit of translation he and Terence had both had trouble with. He pulled a battered copy of Plato’s
Republic
from his pocket and was soon immersed in the intricacies of Greek grammar.
His attention did not return to nineteenth-century England until he was addressed by a grinning workman.
“'At yer bruvver?” asked the brawny fellow, waving a tattooed arm at an East India clipper that was pulling slowly out of the dock under half-sail. “Got a yen fer furrin parts, ‘as ‘e?”
Jamie shaded his eyes and stared. Sure enough, there at the rail was Rob, jumping up and down and shouting something that was borne away unheard on the breeze.
Leaping to his feet, James ran to the water’s edge. “Stop, stop!” he shouted in horror.
“Can’t ‘ear yer. Gotta catch ‘igh tide anyways. Boun’ fer Calcutta, she be!” The docker laughed so hard he was quite unable to answer any questions. With a sinking heart, Jamie watched the ship reach the middle of the river and carry his brother slowly but inexorably downstream.
Not even Geoff s tavern brawl had been as bad as this. Never, never could he face Hester again.
For a moment he considered stowing away on the next Calcutta-bound vessel and following Rob. Then he squared his thin shoulders and decided that would be thoroughly irresponsible. Not that he could think of any other course of action, until through the blank despair in his mind crept a memory.
“Should you find yourself in difficulties of any kind in London,” Mr. Fairfax had said, “I wish you will bring them to me . . .”
His lordship had surely not envisaged anything like this, but there was nowhere else to turn. Now frantic with haste, James hunted up a shabby hackney and ordered the driver to make all possible speed to St. James’ Street.
All possible speed turned out to be a gentle amble. James noticed that they were proceeding with extreme sloth, but he considered it just another aspect of the nightmare he was living through, that not uncommon sensation that whatever one does, one cannot move at more than a snail’s pace. It did not occur to him that he could have walked faster. He just sat numbly until the creaking vehicle clattered to a halt in front of White’s. Jumping down, he thrust his last half sovereign into the grimy paw of the driver and ran up the steps.
“I must speak to Lord Alton!” he cried to the porter.
That worthy had seen gentlemen carried out in every stage of inebriation. He had even, God save the day, seen Viscount Pillington dashing for shelter with a large rip in the seat of his unmentionables after an altercation with Sir Hugh Lodram’s mastiff. But never before had a stripling arrived in a seedy hackney and tarry breeks and demanded to speak to one of the august members of his club.
“I do not believe his lordship is within,” he said, his voice vibrating with disapproval. “Kindly remove yourself from my steps.”
“It is a matter of life and death!” insisted James frantically.
The porter considered using the toe of his boot to enforce his request, but the young man’s urgency gave him pause. Better safe than sorry. It would be the work of a moment to send a page to his lordship with the name. If the earl denied him, he could still toss the youth out, and with added satisfaction; if not, his lordship was a generous man with a vail for extra service.
To the porter’s considerable surprise, the Earl of Alton was apparently acquainted with Young Tarry Breeks, and was sufficiently desirous of speaking with him to desert his friends, take the lad’s arm, and walk him up the street. Not, fortunately, without first slipping a half crown to the discerning individual who had had the wit to call him in spite of his guest’s disreputable appearance.
“What is it, Jamie?” demanded his lordship in a resigned undertone. The street was full of loungers, and from the bow window of his club three or four dandies languidly inspected the passersby.
“I’ve lost Robbie, sir.” James had difficulty forcing his voice past the lump in his throat. “He went off on a Calcutta clipper when I wasn’t looking. I didn’t know what to do.”
“Calm down and explain yourself, James. You mean he stowed away?”
“I don’t think so. You see . . .”
By the time they reached Hanover Square, Lord Alton was in possession of the entire story.
Twenty minutes later, having sent Jamie to make his apologies and explanations to Hester, he galloped east toward Gravesend. Most ships stopped there to take on water, supplies, and passengers, and no captain wanted an unexpected eight-year-old aboard, particularly one as full of gig as young Master Godric.
He found Robbie in the taproom of the Tilbury Arms. He was absorbed in a fascinating conversation with the barmaid and a retired sailor with a wooden leg, all about the ships that had been wrecked in the Thames estuary during the past four centuries. Though quite pleased to see Lord Alton, he was reluctant to leave his new friends and their wonderful stories.
He was fast asleep by the time they reached Paddington. James rushed out of the house as Jettison’s hooves clattered on the cobbles. Rob did not wake when his lordship passed him down to his brother.