Authors: Jane Aiken Hodge
âYou are quite a stranger,' said Miss Letitia.
âPositively a hermit,' added Miss Patricia.
âYou find our amusements trivial, I collect,' said Miss Giddy. âBut I see dear Lady Marchmont. Come, Letitia, come, Patricia, we must pay our respects to our friend.' And with a whisper of muslins they rose and left her.
Digesting this slight, Henrietta looked up with a wry smile and caught the eye of a young man who was gazing at her steadily from the other side of the room. For a moment, her heart stood still. That head held high, those piercing blue eyes â it was Rivers. But, no, she looked again. Of course it was not. This man, who was now making his way towards her through the crowd, was slighter, younger, darker than Rivers, his carriage less assured, but his eyes as formidable.
âMiss Marchmont?' He had reached her side. âI am taking a great liberty in making myself known to you like this. Will you forgive me?'
âOf course.' She held out her hand to him warmly. âAnd there is no need for you to introduce yourself. I knew you the minute I saw you. You must be Mr. Rivers' brother, Simon. He never told me you and he were so alike.'
Simon Rivers laughed. âIt flatters me to have you say so, Miss Marchmont, for you must know that I have always been the runt of our family. To have Charles to live up to is quite a task for a younger brother.' It was lightly spoken, yet she was aware of feeling behind it as he changed the subject. âI have been lamentably remiss in paying you my respects upon the happy occasion of your engagement, but, as perhaps you will have heard, I have been a prisoner of the universities.'
âYes, you have been at St. Andrews, have you not, and are now at Oxford?'
âExactly. Charles is to be a general and I am to be a bishop. My grandfather has it all planned.' No mistaking the bitterness in his voice now. âBut, Miss Marchmont' â again he changed the subject, colouring as he went on â âI am to speak to you, if you will permit it, like a brother, and claim a brother's privilege to defend you from the slanders I have been hearing. Since Charles is away, you must allow me the right.'
âOh dear.' Henrietta sighed. âSo you have heard them too? Was that why you were looking so monstrous angry when you first approached me?'
âIt was indeed. And now, with your good leave, I will return to Mr. Peveril and Mr. Stanmore and make them eat their words.'
âMr. Peveril and Mr. Stanmore, was it?' They were two of her stepmother's most devoted slaves. âWhat were they saying, pray? Do not try to spare my feelings; I am beyond that.'
âHad you thought them your friends? No, I will not tell you what they were saying; it is not of the slightest importance. But I promise you I will make them sorry that they spoke.'
âMr. Rivers â Simon â I beg you will do no such thing. You have spoken to me, and I thank you for it, like a brother; let me answer you as frankly. Your championship warms my heart, but do you not see that to have you fighting on my behalf would only make the talk about me ten thousand times worse? And, besides, what about your chances of a mitre?'
He laughed. âYou could not think of an argument, Miss Marchmont, that would more encourage me to fight. And as for the rumours, they are intolerably bad enough already. I'll not allow it: my brother's future wife to be called a traitor and I to stand by and do nothing. No, I am your very humble servant, ma'am, and will do myself the honour of calling on you tomorrow with their apologies.'
âMr. Rivers, I beg of you â¦' As she put her restraining hand on his arm she noticed a neat figure approaching them. âMr. Brummel.' She greeted him with a sigh of relief. âThe very person. I beg you will persuade Mr. Rivers he can do me no good by fighting on my behalf.'
Mr. Brummel paused and bowed. âMy dear Miss Marchmont, and, I collect, Mr. Rivers? You are presenting a very
dramatic scene for the world's delectation. Surely, Mr. Rivers, you were not thinking of offering a challenge
here
?'
Henrietta dropped her hand from Simon Rivers' arm, while he coloured, his impetus lost. âI ⦠I had quite forgot.'
âThen you had best recollect yourself,' said Mr. Brummel. âNothing could do you â or for that matter Miss Marchmont â more harm than a challenge on her behalf issued in these rooms. And if you are thinking of seeking out your adversary elsewhere, I beg you will think again. Miss Marchmont is in the right of it. This is a matter for more delicate weapons than swords or pistols. Presently, you may dance with her, which, I collect, will be very much more to the question than all your untidy early-morning heroics. But first, pray cool your valour with a turn about the room, while I give Miss Marchmont a scold.'
Simon Rivers coloured more deeply than ever, bowed to Henrietta, and left them as Mr. Brummel took her arm and continued: âI am but this morning returned to town and what do I find is the latest
on dit
' Why, that my protégée, Miss Marchmont, is a rebel, a traitor, and I do not know what else besides. I do not like it, Miss Marchmont. It is an affront to me â to Brummel.'
She laughed. âI do not like it either, Mr. Brummel, but what am I to do about it? I have been foolish, I admit, and, I suppose, I have enemies. I am lucky to have so good a friend.' And then, as he bowed his thanks for the compliment: âBut come, advise me, I beg. What must I do to make my peace with society?'
He smiled. âYou might begin by taking another turn about the room with me. I can see the Miss Giddys changing their minds already. And then, perhaps, some amiable eccentricity? A pet monkey perhaps? A tame bird? Carried everywhere on the wrist?'
She made a face. âDear Mr. Brummel, must I?'
âNot if it appals you so. But, stay â I have a better idea. What would you say to a new friend?'
âI should like one of all things.'
âGood. I will make you known to her straightaway. For I believe that you have not met Miss Jenkinson?'
âMiss Jenkinson? I do not recall her. Is she, perhaps, some connection of Lord Liverpool's?'
âHe calls her cousin. She is rich, Miss Marchmont, much,
much richer than you are like to be. She is but recently come to town, on the providential death, I collect, of her manufacturing parents in â I cannot recall and it does not signify, some metropolis of the north: Birmingham, Manchester â it makes no difference. She stays with her newfound cousin, Lady Liverpool, and the world is at her golden feet. Had you not noticed that you had lost all your lovers?'
âI have missed them very pleasantly.' But for the first time it occurred to her that not even Cedric had asked her hand for the dance tonight. She saw him now, at the far side of the room, bending solicitously over a short, buxom girl with a weather-beaten face and a dusting of freckles down her nose.
Mr. Brummel had seen them too. âLord Beaufrage has been paying her his court these three weeks past. They are betting heavily on his chances at White's.'
âAnd she is to be my friend?'
âIf you will be ruled by me. I have no doubt that she eats cabbage and talks about taking tea, but she is all the rage, and if you will not have a monkey, then it must be Miss Jenkinson.' And so saying, he led her across the room to where Cedric was apparently trying to persuade the new heiress to dance with him. She laughed a great good-natured laugh as they approached, and rapped him over the knuckles with her fan.
âYou think because I talk somewhat broad,' she said, âthat my wits are all abroad too.' There was indeed more than a hint of the Midlands in her voice. âBut flatter away, Lord Beaufrage,' she continued, âyou do it purely and I adore it.'
âAh, Miss Jenkinson,' said Cedric, who had his back to Brummel and Henrietta, âif you could but see my heart.'
âOn the contrary,' she said, âI rather think I see your stepsister. Mr. Brummel, you are my true friend, you are going to make me known to Miss Marchmont at last. Miss Marchmont, you are to forgive me for stealing something of your thunder. You can see that I am plain and freckled, your rival only in fortune. If you will but forgive me for that, I promise in my turn to forgive you your beauty, which is very much more handsome of me, I can tell you, and we shall be friends and laugh at Lord Beaufrage together.'
Henrietta could not help a smile at this odd speech. âWith all my heart,' she said.
âGood,' Miss Jenkinson said approvingly. âAnd we will begin by sending Lord Beaufrage away. Mr. Brummel, I see, has had
the sense to go without being bidden, but you, my lord, will be so good as to fetch us some lemonade. I am as dry as the Sahara and almost as hot. And,' she added to Henrietta as Cedric bowed and left them, âif my mama could but have seen me ordering a lord about like that she would have fainted with shock â as indeed she did often enough at me and my papa both, for what with my ideas and his language, she had but a sad life of it, poor thing.'
âYour ideas?' said Henrietta, amused despite herself. âAnd what were they, if I may ask?'
âYou may ask me anything, dear Miss Marchmont. I have been longing this age to meet you, and I mean it when I say I intend we shall be friends. I can see you have heard nothing about me â and why should you have? But I know great plenty about you, and all I have heard I have liked. You are weary of society, are you not, and want to live in the country and run a school? Well, I have lived in the country,
and
run a school, and a very good one too, and very happy I was until dear Papa made so shocking much money out of this war and I had to turn young lady to please him. And now he has died and left me to my prunes and prisms, and if you will but try to teach me how to behave like a young lady, I will tell you a thing or two about schools. But here comes Lord Beaufrage. Will you dance with him, or shall I?'
Henrietta laughed. âI think you had best.'
âVery well. And here is that delightful young Mr. Rivers making sheep's eyes at you, so let us go down the dance together. For I tell you' â she took Henrietta's hand and drew her out to the centre of the room where the set was forming â âI am to be your champion now, and we'll have no more gossip.' And then, as Henrietta coloured angrily âNow, pray, do not fly out at me. We are to be friends, remember, and you must just get used to my free tongue and how it runs away with me. Come, love, kiss and make up, if only to make the old tabbies stare.'
And indeed as she laughed and complied, Henrietta was aware of the Miss Giddys goggling at them with all their eyes. After that, what had begun so gloomily proved a happy evening indeed. Though not such a polished man of the world as his elder brother, Simon Rivers surprised Henrietta by proving a better dancer and an admirably considerate companion. Miss Jenkinson used her privilege as the toast of the day to keep the
four of them together for much of the evening and they dined, danced and supped together. When at last Simon Rivers handed her into the carriage in the cool first light of morning, Henrietta told herself she had forgotten what it was like to be so simply happy.
Waking late next day, she was instantly aware of a new brightness about life. It was a heartwarming thing to have made two such friends as Miss Jenkinson and Charles's brother in one evening. Rising at once, she dressed with unusual care and found various reasons for staying at home as long as possible. Surely Simon Rivers would call upon her this morning, though not, of course, with news of a duel. But she might have spared herself the trouble. He never came. No doubt, she told herself wryly, he had had quite enough of her last night. Now that he was honourably excused from flying to her defence, he had gone back to Oxford and forgotten all about her.
She did, however, receive a call from Sally Jenkinson, who came, as she cheerfully announced, to cement their friendship and to engage Henrietta, her stepmother and Cedric to remain at Coombe House for the week-end after Lady Liverpool's party. All three accepted readily; Henrietta with honest pleasure, for she found herself increasingly drawn to forthright Sally; Lady Marchmont and her son with one of their quick, silently exchanged glances.
The dinner itself was like all the dinners Henrietta had sat through: formal, dull and incredibly long, but she derived considerable amusement, later, when the gentlemen had rejoined the ladies, from watching the skill with which Cedric shared his attentions between Miss Jenkinson and herself. The heiress was in tearing spirits. This was, she confided to Henrietta, the first big dinner Lady Liverpool had given since she had come to live with them.
âIt is vastly tedious, is it not? I had rather hear a parcel of brummagem businessmen talking cotton than all this gossip about the princess and her lovers. And, talking of lovers, what do you think of mine? Shall I have Lord Beaufrage â and you for a sister? It is a mighty inducement, I can tell you. But, come, advise me, I beg, for by all the signs he will make me an offer before the week-end is over.'
Henrietta laughed and did her best to evade the issue, but Miss Jenkinson was bent on having an answer. âNo, no, you
shall not dodge me so. I know he is your brother, but he has not been so for long. And besides, if you cannot speak up for him, who will? To deal plainly with you, what I most want is to know the extent of his debts. Are they as bottomless as I have heard said? Lord knows I am resigned to having to pay something for a title, for who would marry me but for my money and who would want it if he were not in Queer Street? I do not mind debts so much: It is the habit of debt that I fear. Do you think your brother has it?'
To Henrietta's relief, they were interrupted by Cedric himself before she had time to try for an answer. He stayed with them until candles were brought, turning the pages of her music for Henrietta when she played, and admiring Miss Jenkinson when she sang. There was no more private talk that night.
The younger members of the party rode out into Richmond Park next morning and Henrietta was surprised to find herself once more the main object of Cedric's attention, but somewhat less than flattered when he lost no time in leading the conversation first to the subject of his financial embroilment, and then, by an all too logical connection, to Sally Jenkinson.