The House in Grosvenor Square (36 page)

The
Morning Chronicle
wasn't nearly as considerate as Mrs. Bentley's butler, who had kept the rumour out of sight on her desk. The newspaper, in contrast, printed the elopement on the front page. The small print acknowledged the news as yet an unsubstantiated “fact,” a typical oxymoronic statement by the paper. There were, it said, “the most excellent” sources for the veracity of the statement. It was printed again in the “Announcements” column, directly above the “Auctions” listings.

Mr. Pellham never missed his paper, and with a heavy sigh, he took it in hand when he set out that morning to call at Hanover Square. Mrs. Bentley, he thought, was going to be in rare form.

L
avinia Herley finally prevailed upon her parents to allow her to call upon Miss Forsythe. Her services as a proper companion might be needed for one thing. And she did not want to miss the opportunity of staying at Mr. Mornay's beautiful house and being with her dear friend for the last four days before she was wed. It would be exceedingly diverting.

Her father had to let fall a heavy blow, however. He held up his copy of the
Chronicle
and let his daughter read the headline for herself. “The Birds Have Flown!” Beneath it was a caricature of Mornay and his pretty wife, both styled as costumed birds. The male bird was replete with top hat and coattails, and the female with a bonnet and gown. The two were flying off with an arrow pointing ahead to a banner reading “Scotland.” The bird representing Mr. Mornay was saying, “I'll keep you safe, my love!” While the she-bird responded, “Heaven help us! This is shocking!”

Lavinia was speechless. Having herself suffered an abduction, she could understand what had driven the couple to such an extreme measure, but she was unaccountably disappointed at it. She was quick to note the line, “unsubstantiated fact,” but in her heart, she felt it must surely be true. Mr. Mornay would not suffer his love to fall into the paths of evil again. She was sure of it. And she was glad that her friend was safely married to the man she loved! Pity it had to happen in such a way, but Ariana was finally Mrs. Mornay now. She thought of herself and Lord Antoine. If only they could find a way to persuade her parents to allow the match. She would settle for an elopement in a second if it made her Lady Antoine!

While she was thinking thus, Mr. Chesley called, wearing a look of great unrest.

“Miss Herley,” he said, while they were still in the front hall. “Antoine is in Newgate!”

“What! On what account?”

“They've pinned your abduction on him!”

“But that's ridiculous!”

“I know it and you know it, but devilish little good that will do him. They took him at Mrs. Bentley's house.”

“Oh, no! I sent him there to tell her I was safe!”

“Well, he's under the hatches now. They'll send 'im across the herring pond if we don't do something—if they spare him the gibbet, of course!”

“Transport—or the gibbet? Oh, my soul!” Miss Herley covered her mouth with one hand. “And Ariana and Mr. Mornay gone! What am I to do? If I tell my parents, they'll only believe him more guilty and deserving of what he gets!” She turned her earnest eyes to her friend. “We
must
help him!”

Mrs. Bentley had finally achieved a good night's sleep, but she awoke knowing she was not at her best. She had endured having her niece abducted from the best neighborhood that existed in London. She had endured the further horrifying experience of having Miss Herley abducted from her own carriage. She had swooned—for the first time in her life—and little liked the experience. She had been through the ups and downs of the romance between her niece and the Paragon! And now she was tired. She was tired of planning, scheming, hoping, wanting, and striving. In fact she was just plain tired.

But today she had one last important task to accomplish, and she wanted it done speedily. She was going to correct the insanity of the situation with her niece. It was absurd, utterly, that it had been allowed to go on as long as it had. She would put her foot down with Mr. Mornay and insist upon Ariana joining her at Hanover Square, or—or she'd get the magistrate! The law would certainly be on her side. It wasn't proper or right that he should be given leave to keep a lady of quality in his house unchaperoned!

Now that one ruffian was in custody, she was certain that brother of his, Wingate, would keep a low profile. Which meant it was no doubt safe for her niece to return to the house. There were a mere four days until the wedding. Her brother and his family would be arriving at any time. They would expect to find their child with Mrs. Bentley, and rightly so.

Imagine if they were to find that she was residing in her future home prior to the ceremony! There would never be another niece for her to sponsor—not that Mrs. Bentley was sure she would ever wish to sponsor another niece after this higgledy-piggledy season with Ariana! How scatter-brained she had been to allow Mornay to take her relation from the house. Then she thought of her recent stop at Mornay's house when the couple was out. Well, they would be home this morning.

She rang for Harrietta. “Quickly, Harrietta! I cannot rest a moment longer until I see my niece!”

Mr. Pellham was just turning the corner onto Hanover Square when he saw a carriage that looked much like Mrs. Bentley's leaving it. He had his cane and his newspaper, and he stopped in consternation. If Mrs. Bentley was going out, his mission was in vain.

Yet he was not certain it had been her carriage—they all looked fright-fully alike—and he could always wait at her house for her to return. He continued walking.

Miss Herley was taking a drive with Mr. Chesley. This is what she told her parents. She did not mention that the light curricle was borrowed—without permission—or that their destination was Mrs. Bentley's house on Hanover Square. Drastic times demanded drastic measures, she told herself. When Antoine was safe, she would tell her parents everything.

As soon as they pulled to the curb at Ariana's aunt's house, Lavinia could not contain her impatience. “I'll go ahead, sir. Come inside when the groom appears.” She scrambled down, in a rather unladylike manner, eager to enlist the aid of Mrs. Bentley. Once that lady understood that her Antoine had not been involved in her abduction—not in the least—she was certain Mrs. Bentley had the wherewithal to obtain his release.

Haines recognized the young lady, or he would never have parted with the information that his mistress had just left for Grosvenor Square.

“Grosvenor Square! Whatever for?”

He believed she was going there to see Miss Forsythe.

But hadn't she eloped with Mr. Mornay?

Eloped? Haines looked utterly shocked. Lavinia turned on her heel and hurried back to the carriage.

There was a great hub of people and carriages around Mr. Mornay's house when Mrs. Bentley's coach tried to approach it. In the end she had to leave her equipage and walk from the corner of Upper Brook Street to house number 25. It was only natural she should inquire what all the fuss was about.

“Mornay and Miss Forsythe have eloped, ma'am! Have you not seen the paper?” The young man offering this information immediately produced the
Chronicle
from beneath one arm and unfolded it as best he could, in front of Mrs. Bentley's face. She saw the headline, “The Birds have Flown!” and quickly scanned the caricature. Her mouth dropped in astonishment, and her eyes opened wide with horror. She was mightily thankful for her bonnet at that moment, as her reaction was therefore largely hidden from the bystanders, of whom there were many.

“If this is true,” she said, trying to speak in a normal tone, though her heart was beating painfully in her chest and her legs had gone all weak, “what is the purpose of this crowd? If the couple has eloped, there is naught here of interest!”

The young man smiled. “There are more bets on this at White's and Boodle's than any man of my acquaintance can recall seeing on an issue before. I am here to protect my wager, ma'am. I will know the truth, you see, if I must remain here all day and the next! I've a thousand pounds on it!”

“Upon which side is your money, sir?” Her face had taken on a look of wary disdain. The young man did not notice that the hands gripping the newspaper had tightened ominously.

He smiled, as if speaking to a child. “Surely you do not doubt the
Chronicle
? If they have slandered Mornay, there'll be no end of it! No, I am convinced the report must be true.” Mrs. Bentley quickly folded the paper again and moved as though she would thrust it sharply back into the hand of its owner. Instead, giving in to a sudden strong righteous indignation, as though this young man was to blame for all, she stared into his uncomprehending eyes for one moment. Then she lashed that paper down upon his head, his hat, and his shoulders, at which he began backing away. Looking at her as though she were the devil incarnate, he turned and took off as fast
as the crowd would allow. Mrs. Bentley watched him go and stood there catching her breath a moment.

She realized that people were staring at her. Her action had caused the crowd to grow oddly silent about her, and now all the faces were looking curiously at her.

“Spurious lies!” she pronounced to the whole crowd. She threw the paper to the ground and continued on. Her legs were feeling weaker yet. Was she in danger of another faint? What on earth was happening to her robust constitution? She walked on, blindly moving among the milling crowd, making her way woodenly toward the house. Had she really thought that an elopement might solve something? Faced with the possibility, it no longer held the least appearance of rational judgment! Was she going mad? She was no longer certain whether to condemn the action or to give it her approbation! What was the world coming to, when a body could not tell whether something was good or bad? Was this not
precisely
what she feared, what she
knew
must happen?