The Circle of Sappho (17 page)

Read The Circle of Sappho Online

Authors: David Lassman

‘It is said Sappho preferred her own sex's company to that of men. She ran a school on the island of Lesbos, in Greece, where she taught the daughters of rich families, but it is said that she also engaged in certain extra-curricular activities with many of them, if you understand my meaning.'

‘I see,' said Swann.

‘She is known as the tenth muse,' added Bunn, ‘and one can understand why if you read her poetry. As for Miss Leigh, it is thought she became what is known as a female-husband. This was before she secured employment with the family Mrs Leach mentioned. I understand it was Switzerland where they stayed last summer. They wished to employ a tutor and governess for their four daughters.'

‘So how did Miss Leigh become educated?'

‘Self-taught, I believe. She became friends with several influential women in the town and it was through them she had access to books and teaching materials. I helped her in regard to a legal matter once, although I cannot remember the exact details.'

‘And after her job as governess, she returned to Frome?'

‘Only briefly; the story I heard is that she had lost her position after becoming too involved with one of the young girls under her charge. She then set herself up as a private tutor.'

‘Was this in Frome?'

‘No. By then she had moved to Bath and it was around that time she came to the notice of Lady Harriet. It was Her Ladyship who arranged her employment with the school. I am sure you know that though.'

‘Yes,' Swann lied.

The two men had now reached Behind Town and stood near Rook Lane House.

‘Ah, if I am not mistaken I believe that is your aunt's carriage ahead of us.'

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

‘I understand from Lady Harriet that you have this very day paid homage at the former home of the illustrious Mrs Rowe, Miss Gardiner?'

‘You are right, Mr Huntley,' replied Mary, ‘and I also visited the chapel where she worshipped and beneath which she is buried. Do you know her work well?'

‘If I am honest, I do not have much time for her, although I reserve admiration for her later work, especially her more pious and reverential writings. I believe they represent her true nature.'

Mary was slightly bemused by these remarks.

‘Forgive me Mr Huntley, but my brother has spoken of your keen literary acumen and perception. I do think though, in light of your evaluation of Mrs Rowe, he may have been mistaken.'

‘Touché, Miss Gardiner, and please forgive me, my dear, as I could not help indulge in a little amusement at your expense. I chanced upon your biographical sketch of Mrs Rowe on Lady Harriet's table this afternoon, after my arrival, and I would not remain in business as a literary agent for long if I did not peruse, however fleetingly, any unpublished manuscript that happens to cross my path.'

The other guests around Lady Harriet's dinner table, except Swann, laughed nervously; many relieved the verbal sparring between Huntley and Mary had been based on nothing more than a fabrication, at least on Huntley's part.

‘In fact, Miss Gardiner,' continued Huntley, ‘I consider Mrs Rowe to be one of our most esteemed authoresses and poets, as well as a well-rounded woman, in terms of her attributes, which your essay has fully appreciated. You have a style about your prose which is, in turn, praiseworthy and enviable. Possibly a little verbose and didactic in places, if I may venture such an opinion, but overall I feel you have captured her essence and brought the subject to life in a manner which the great artists achieve on canvas. But then, of course, having seen your work, I know you are an accomplished portrait artist, as well.'

‘I believe your statement regarding having seen my niece's work to be erroneous, Mr Huntley,' said Lady Harriet, in a measured but light-hearted manner, ‘given the fact you have not previously met my niece, at least not to my knowledge, and therefore have had no opportunity to view her artistic endeavours.'

Swann instinctively knew he had to assist his good friend in extricating himself from a potentially troublesome situation.

‘On the contrary, Lady Harriet,' he interjected. ‘Huntley met Mary in Bath last autumn, at the Luchini exhibition. As Mr Luchini was Mary's art teacher at the time, I am naturally inclined to suppose I mentioned to him, in passing, my sister's accomplishments in portraiture, but can only assume my descriptions were so vivid, Huntley here believes he has actually viewed several of them!'

‘Yes, that sounds like me,' said Huntley laughing, although visibly relieved at Swann's intervention. ‘I do remember the exhibition well, but obviously had forgotten our conversation, Swann. By the way, how is your piece on Bath Abbey coming along?'

‘It is as good as completed,' replied Swann, ‘and will be with you by Sunday.'

‘Good. I would not want
you
dying on me as well, before it was finished. Although, obviously I would not wish you dead after its completion, either!' Richard Huntley was the kind of person who would throw in a remark and then retire quietly to observe the verbal melee that ensued. On this occasion, however, he had been brought to account by Lady Harriet, herself known for her well-aimed comments. He had taken an instant dislike to her from their first meeting, but as they both worked for the same section within the Aliens Office, he knew he had to tread cautiously. As for Swann, Huntley was grateful for his intervention. It had been chance that brought them together in a London bookshop a few years previously, when a passing remark by Swann to the bookseller about an author Huntley represented had opened a literary conversation that had since led to friendship. When he later learnt that Swann was related to Lady Harriet, it seemed like provenance that the encounter had occurred.

It had been an eventful week for Lady Harriet. The murder of a diplomat's daughter and an employee of a close friend had been a bad way to start the week. This had been followed by the unwillingness of one of her agents to carry on the work he had been spared the gallows in order to undertake; a struggle to distract her nephew from the pursuit of a man he sought over his father's murder; and what had amounted to a dressing down from a man who, if not her direct boss, could easily cause a lot of trouble for her. And now there was this; a potential breech of security caused by Huntley's carelessness that could bring all of her carefully orchestrated plans crashing down, through the mere utterance of one untimely remark. She had thought at the time, when the Scarred Man portrait was being duplicated from Mary's original rendering, for agents in the field, that Huntley did not have a high enough level of clearance to warrant receiving a copy – but she had been overruled. Her instinct had been vindicated. The transgression was diffused now though, through the intervention of Swann and the fortuitous meeting at that exhibition the previous autumn. Now to return to the business in hand; this evening's gathering.

Alongside Lady Harriet were eight guests seated around the dinner table and each one had been invited by Lady Harriet for a different, specific reason known to her alone. Along with Swann, Mary and Huntley, was Lockhart, Catherine Jennings, Mrs Forsyth, a near-neighbour of Harriet's, and Colonel Braithwaite and his ‘daughter' (a successful subterfuge carried out in regard to everyone else seated around the table, except for Harriet, who knew the truth about their relationship, and Swann, who had concluded it through his observations of them throughout the evening).

A ninth guest, John Bolton, the deceased girl's chaperone, had been invited but had not yet arrived. Whether he would now appear was open to conjecture, especially as the second course was about to be brought in.

As one group of servants cleared away the remains of the first course from the table, so another group began to bring in the dishes of the next; placing them on the table in accordance with prearranged instructions. Where there had been dishes of petit patties, Soup de Santé, haricos of mutton, chicken, turkey, tongue, sheep's rump and sweetbreads-à-la-daub, there were now scalloped oysters, apple puffs, prawns, Fowl à la Braise, rib of lamb, broccoli and Pompadore cream.

Not long after this course had been served, and with everyone replete with their fill of food and feeling the effects of the alcohol, a half-full wine glass was tapped several times. The various conversations taking place ended and all eyes focussed on the instigator of the sound.

‘Thank you for your attention, ladies and gentlemen,' said Lockhart, standing up. ‘I have an announcement to make. As many of you may know, Miss Gardiner and I are engaged to be married.' Lockhart glanced down at Mary, seated next to him, and she smiled. ‘Until this evening, however, we had not yet finalised a date. Having had a most agreeable conversation with Lady Harriet, the aunt of my betrothed, I am pleased to announce that the wedding is to take place at the end of October.'

Mrs Forsyth and Catherine Jennings, along with Colonel Braithwaite and his ‘daughter', immediately offered their congratulations to the happy couple, while Swann, Lady Harriet and Huntley used the distraction to gather their thoughts regarding the announcement.

‘Lady Harriet has also kindly agreed to host the service and celebrations here in the grounds of her house, as well as providing accommodation for those guests travelling a great distance,' continued Lockhart. ‘This obviously all depends on whether Lady Harriet's builders have finished their work, of course.' This last sentence was delivered sardonically.

The congratulating guests all laughed. Mrs Forsyth turned to Lady Harriet.

‘Is there any news when your builders may actually conclude?' she enquired.

‘They have assured me they will be finished by the end of the summer,' replied Harriet.

‘Yes, but have they told you which year?' quipped the colonel, rather red-faced from his over-indulgence of alcohol that evening. Miss Jennings and Mrs Forsyth, along with Mary and Lockhart, all laughed at the colonel's witticism, and even Huntley managed the briefest of smiles. When the colonel proposed a toast to the couple, they all lifted their glasses in unison and wished Mary and Lockhart the very best for the future.

As far as Harriet was concerned, the evening had gone from bad to worse. For the second time tonight one of her guests, with whom she had close working ties, had spoken out of turn. The agreement to an October wedding was only provisional, she had told Lockhart when they had met before dinner, and would depend on what happened in the intervening months. To announce it ‘officially' in front of witnesses was beyond disobedience. If she wanted the Office's secret operation to be successful, however, she would just have to stand back and do nothing for the time being. She needed Lockhart as much as he needed her and he knew it!

Swann was inwardly furious he had not been consulted about the wedding date and would confront Lady Harriet at the earliest opportunity over it. As for Huntley, the announcement meant that his earlier faux pas regarding Mary's portrait had now been well and truly annulled. If his had been no more than a skirmish, then Harriet's agreement to a wedding date was tantamount to a declaration of war. He still could not believe, given what he knew of her relationship with Lockhart and the man's notorious past, that she could not only arrange a date for him to be married but the bride was to be her own flesh and blood!

Catherine Jennings, although outwardly congratulatory, pondered the sense of a woman wanting to subjugate herself to a man. Had she not said as much last year, during a talk in this very building? She wholeheartedly believed the responsibility of a woman remaining true to herself within marriage lay solely with the woman, she had told the packed room. She should therefore ensure that the man she is going to marry will not stand in her way of continuing personal development. Miss Jennings had recognised Mary from that talk, and now wondered how much of her speech had been retained.

Mrs Forsyth, on the other hand, could not imagine a woman not being married to a man. She had enjoyed nearly forty years of married bliss and the secret, if anyone ever ventured to ask her, was that they were spent with several different husbands. It seemed no sooner had the passion begin to wane from one of her marriages, the husband would ‘fortuitously' pass away and she would find another, sooner rather than later, to take his place and so rekindle the fervour.

Lockhart's announcement reminded Colonel Braithwaite of his own marriage and how much he regretted undertaking it. This thought, however, was tempered by the fact his wife was many miles away, holidaying with friends in Brighton, and he was able to spend the night in the company of his ‘daughter' and enjoy Harriet's hospitality of the guest room. As for this ‘daughter', she wanted only to be married to the wealthy and elderly colonel, yet at this present moment she also wished herself in the opposite seat to where she was now, in that of the bride-to-be, having taken a fancy to the man who had made the announcement.

As for Lockhart himself, he was overjoyed that he had found the courage to announce it tonight, as it meant Lady Harriet could not indulge in any delaying tactics given as it was now in the public domain. He knew it was a gamble to have done so, as there were certain risks involved, but then had he not always been so lucky. The fact he had met someone of Mary's calibre, after everything he had gone through, surely meant something. And long may it carry on, he thought to himself. He would just have to figure out a way to keep all the plates spinning until October. He could do it. He would just have to convince Kirby to let him continue working for the organisation but not to escort the women. If Swann found out about it, he would surely tell his sister and there was every good chance that she would believe him and bring an end to their engagement. It was now almost seven months since he had met Mary and he still felt the same way about her. No, if anything, his feelings were even stronger.

The meal ended not long after the toast had been made and as much as Harriet would have liked to have said goodnight to the guests there and then, she offered her assembled visitors the opportunity to play cards; hazard being the game of choice.

Other books

Raincheck by Madison, Sarah
Solemn by Kalisha Buckhanon
Mistress of the Storm by Terri Brisbin
Casi un objeto by José Saramago
Among the Dead by Michael Tolkin
Ferryman by Claire McFall
Unknown by Unknown
The King's Hand by Anna Thayer
Magician by Timothy C. Phillips