Lord Portman's Troublesome Wife (12 page)

‘So, you can spare a few guineas, can’t you?’ Jonathan said.

‘To be sure I can, but they will want to know how a man in my desperate condition came to have them, so I have said I will hold up a coach.’

‘Hold up a coach!’ James exclaimed. ‘I will not sanction that, no matter how worthy the cause.’

Harry grinned at him. ‘Not even if it is my own coach?’

‘Explain.’

‘They do not know my true identity, so I want one of you, preferably you, Ash, since you are about the same size and shape as me, to dress in my rough clothes and hold up my coach and relieve me of a purse full of guineas.’

‘Can’t you tell them you held up a coach without actually staging it?’ Ash asked.

‘I could, but I need newspaper reports and gossip about it to convince the gang it really happened. And I cannot ask anyone to hold up a real coach, so it has to be mine. Afterwards we will meet for you to change into your own clothes and give me my clothes and purse back.’

‘I’ll do it,’ Ash said enthusiastically. ‘When and where?’

‘On my way home to Bishop’s Court tomorrow. I will take the road across the Heath. If you can spare the time to come to Portman House with me now, I will give you my clothes.’ He chuckled suddenly. ‘You are not going to like them, Ash. They stink. But I can promise you a bath and a good meal at Bishop’s Court afterwards.’

‘And shall I renew my acquaintance with Lady Portman?’

‘Naturally she will be there.’

The rest of the Society business was dealt with. Harry and Ash walked to Berkeley Square together. ‘How is married life?’ Ash asked him.

‘If you are asking what I think you are asking,’ Harry said morosely, ‘it isn’t. I could not do it.’

Ash stopped in mid-stride and turned to his friend in astonishment. ‘Why not?’

‘I don’t know. I wish I could dislike her. I wish she were not so attractive. And so innocent. I am sure she has no idea…’

‘Good God, man! Surely that is not holding you back?’ Ash resumed walking. ‘Take her, she will soon find out.’

‘It would seem like rape.’

‘A man cannot rape his own wife, Harry.’

‘She doesn’t feel like my wife. She is a stranger.’

‘But I thought that was the whole idea, to impregnate a stranger.’

‘It isn’t going to work, Ash. I wish I had never listened to you and that muckworm of a brother of hers.’

‘I’m sorry. I thought only to help you out of your dilemma. And to be truthful, it began as a jest and I did not expect you to do it. You must have seen some merit in the idea.’

‘There is a huge chasm between an idea and the execution of it,’ Harry said. ‘I do not know what came over me in Ranelagh Gardens. I must have run mad.’

‘The balmy night, the music, the fireworks, all very romantic,’ Ash murmured.

‘She knew what her brother was about and I felt sorry for her. And once the offer was made…’ He shrugged. ‘In the cold light of day I could not retract, could I?’

‘So what are you going to do?’

‘I do not know. I can have the marriage annulled, I suppose.’

‘To do that you will either have to blame her for refusing to consummate it, which will be a blow to your pride, or make yourself look a fool for not being able to.’

‘I know. I cannot do either.’

‘Then you must make the best of the situation. Make her your wife.’

‘I keep asking myself if I want to. She is outspoken to a degree that is bound to make the sparks fly. I am not used to being questioned about what I do.’

‘Not about the Piccadilly Gentlemen?’

‘No, she knows nothing of my involvement with the Society, but before I left she was asking me when I last saw my daughter.’

‘And when was that?’

‘The day she was born.’

‘Did you tell her that, Harry?’

‘No.’

‘Did you tell her anything about your first wife?’

‘Only that I was widowed six years ago. And before you say anything, I have no intention of telling her what really happened.’

They had arrived in Berkeley Square and he hurried up the steps and into the house with Ash behind him and the subject of Rosamund and his marriage was dropped. ‘Will you dine with me?’ he asked as they sat in the drawing room enjoying a glass of cognac. ‘We can talk over our plans for the robbery while we eat.’

The meal was a simple one of only five courses, and though it was superbly prepared, neither man noticed much of what he was eating, so absorbed were they in their plans.

‘For God’s sake do not mistake anyone else’s coach for mine,’ Harry said. ‘And it would be best if there were no other vehicles nearby at the time. I do not want some gallant with more stomach than brains to try to come to my rescue. Someone might be hurt.’

‘It is a busy road, the timing might not be easy.’

‘As long as no one is near enough to intervene, that ought to suffice. A distant witness would be a help, though. It should only take a minute to stop me, take my purse and gallop away.’

‘You do not want me to injure you, I hope?’

‘No need.’ Harry laughed. ‘Lord Portman is known for his lavish dress and foppish ways, not his bravery. I will be terrified and put up no resistance. Afterwards I will make a great song and dance about losing my money.’

‘What if your coachman decides to act the hero…?’

‘He won’t. He has instructions that if we are ever held up, he is to remain passive and not risk his life for a few guineas, which is all I usually carry. When the deed is done, make your way to Bishop’s Court. You cannot come up to the house in disguise, so go to the boat house down by the lake. You can wash the makeup off in the water and change there. If you give me a suit of your clothes in a bag, I will have it on the seat of the coach and you can take that along with my purse. Bundle up the purse and the disguise and bring them up to the house in the bag. Go back to the lane and ride up openly as if you are paying a call.’

‘I understand. Tell me about your other self, the man I am supposed to be impersonating.’

‘Gus Housman is a most disreputable character, up
to every sort of rig short of murder, filthy, uncombed and unshaven, not the sort to have guineas honestly come by. After we have eaten I will give you his clothes and show you how to make up your face and hands. You can bring me your clothes before I set out in the morning.’

‘No wonder they say you had a promising career as an actor in your green days if you can convince the criminal fraternity you are one of them. Shall you put out a warrant for my arrest?’

‘I shall have to, shan’t I? It will look smoky an’ I do not, but as the blackguard who did the deed does not exist, he will never be apprehended, will he?’

‘I have just thought of something,’ Ash said, taking a mouthful of wine. ‘Won’t the Piccadilly Gentlemen be expected to investigate the crime, especially as it is one of their number who has suffered?’

‘So? They can give the task to you. ‘Tis a pity you will have to fail, but you cannot succeed every time.’

And they both laughed and opened another bottle of wine.

Travers had assigned a spotty youth called Ben to drive Rosamund. She was glad the head groom had gone with his master because he might well question why she wanted the gig to visit Feltham Farm. If he did not ask her directly, he would certainly speak of it to Harry. And she would rather tell her husband herself.

It had not been necessary for Janet to question the staff about Annabelle’s whereabouts after all. Mrs Rivers told her what she wanted to know without being asked. ‘I shall not be available to go over the linen with
you this afternoon, my lady,’ she had said. ‘I visit his lordship’s daughter’s foster parents on the first day of every other month to take money and little gifts for the child. And today is the first of July.’

‘She is not far away, then?’

‘No, at Feltham Farm. It’s on the other side of the Heath, nearer Hounslow than here. I usually get one of the grooms to drive me over in the gig.’

‘I could go for you, Mrs Rivers. I have nothing to do this afternoon and you must be busy.’

‘I don’t know,’ the woman said doubtfully. ‘It has always been my task.’

‘But that was when there was no mistress at Bishop’s Court. I am here now and I should like to meet the little girl. I am her stepmother, after all.’

‘What do you think his lordship will say?’ The housekeeper was still doubtful.

‘Leave his lordship to me. I think some things need to change, don’t you?’

Mrs Rivers’s brow cleared and she smiled. ‘Yes, my lady, I do.’

So here she was, bowling over the Heath towards Feltham Farm with no clear idea what she would do and say when she arrived. Not wishing to overawe the child she had dressed in a simple gingham gown, open from the waist to reveal a plain padded petticoat. She wore a large hat with a feather over her own curls which shaded her face from the sun, for it was a warm day. In her reticule was a purse containing five guineas and beside her on the seat was a little toy monkey on a stick, which could be made to dance by pulling a cord up and down. The foster parents were a Mr and Mrs
Chappell who ran the farm with Mr Chappell’s brother, so Mrs Rivers had informed her.

They had almost reached the other side of the Heath where the character of the landscape changed. Here was farmland, with hedges and trees and cultivated fields where the wheat was tall and almost ripe. After a little while Ben turned the gig down a rutted farm track. It was a mile or two before she saw any buildings because they were shielded by woodland, but after they had left the trees, they saw the farm ahead of them, nestling in a hollow. It was so well hidden that unless you knew of it, you would never guess it was there. Ben drove into the yard and drew to a halt. A huge dog barked ferociously, straining on the chain that held it. Rosamund was disinclined to leave the gig for fear it might free itself and attack her.

A woman came out of the house, wiping her hands on a grubby apron. She was followed by a gaggle of children, boys and girls. Rosamund counted six of them. She wondered how many were the woman’s own or if they were all fostered. She looked from one to the other, wondering which was Annabelle. Some were too old, others too young. There was one that might have been six years old, but she could not see a likeness to Harry. They all seemed well fed, though dirty and ill clothed.

The woman evidently recognised the gig. ‘Where’s Mrs Rivers?’ she demanded, coming up to where Rosamund sat. ‘She ain’t left, hev she?’

‘Mrs Rivers is still housekeeper at Bishop’s Court,’ Rosamund told her. ‘I come in her place. I am Lady Portman.’

‘Lady Portman!’ the woman exclaimed in astonishment. ‘You don’ say his lordship hev wed ag’in?’

‘Yes.’

‘I can’t believe it…’

‘Oh, you may believe it.’ She turned to the young groom who had driven her. ‘Ben, tell Mrs Chappell who I am.’And to the woman, ‘I assume you are Mrs Chappell.’

‘Course I am.’

‘She’s her ladyship, all right,’ Ben told her. ‘Lord Portman’s new wife. And you’d best do as she says.’

The woman shrugged. ‘So be it. You’ll be wanting to come in.’ She stepped aside so that Rosamund could get down. The dog continued to bark. ‘Shut up!’ She rounded on it and gave it a vicious kick which sent it yelping and sprawling in the dust. Then she led the way into the house. Rosamund followed her, with the children, some silent, some chattering excitedly, close behind.

‘Sit you down. I’ll make some tea.’

Rosamund stood and looked about her. She was in a large kitchen with a stone-flagged floor that was so grimy it could not have seen a mop in years. The table was strewn with the remains of a meal, which a black cat was enjoying. Mrs Chappell knocked it off. It squealed and fled.

‘No tea, thank you, Mrs Chappell,’ Rosamund said, sitting gingerly on the edge of a chair. ‘Which of the children is Annabelle?’

‘Oh, she ain’t one o’ these. These are all my own.’

‘Where is she then? I would like to see her.’ Already she was determined to take the child away from this filthy place.

‘In her bed. She ain’t bin too well.’

‘What is wrong with her?’

‘Belly ache. She ate some sour crab apples off a tree down the lane. I ha’ told her not to often enough. I give ‘er some physic. She’ll soon pick up.’

‘Have you informed Lord Portman?’

‘No, ‘e don’t want to know. He’ve never bin to see ‘er, not once, in all her life. I was expectin’ Mrs Rivers to come with her keep money, then I can buy her some more physic. The bottle I had is done.’

‘Take me to her.’

‘Oh, you don’ want to be goin’ up there, m’lady. What with her heavin’ her guts up and havin’ the flux an’ all…’ She did not elaborate, leaving the state of the child to Rosamund’s imagination.

‘Nevertheless I wish to see her.’

One of the older boys began to giggle, but stopped when his mother lifted a hand to him. ‘Very well, m’lady. But don’ say I didn’ warn you.’

Rosamund followed her up a flight of narrow stairs, which led on to a landing. There were four rooms on that floor. Mrs Chappell opened the door of one and Rosamund almost recoiled at the stench. There were three beds in the room, a big four-poster, another a little smaller and a tiny truckle bed and it was on this the child was lying, covered by a stinking rag of a blanket.

‘Annie, you got a visitor,’ Mrs Chappell announced.

The child hardly stirred. Her face was white as paper and her hair was plastered to her scalp. She was wearing what looked like an old shirt of one of the boys. ‘Oh, you poor, poor dear,’ Rosamund said, dropping to her knees to stroke the hair from her forehead. ‘Mrs
Chappell, she is burning with fever. Have you sent for a doctor?’

‘No. She’ll get over it. She’s already better’n she was. Another good dose of physic and she’ll be right as ninepence.’

‘She needs a doctor. I am going to take her home with me, where she will be looked after.’ She stood up and bent over the bed to gather the child into her arms. She was too weak even to cry.

‘You can’t do that. This is her home…’

‘No longer, Mrs Chappell.’ She carried the child downstairs, followed by Mrs Chappell protesting in the strongest terms that she was taking away her livelihood. The rest of the children were still in the kitchen, their mouths open in curiosity. Rosamund marched straight past them and out into the yard, where the dog began barking again. She ignored it and climbed back into the gig with the child still in her arms. For a six-year-old she was very light. Ben sniffed. ‘My lady, she stinks like a pigsty.’