The Man in the Green Coat (6 page)

“It’s a Mr and Miss Darcy, my lady. Just come from France, it seems, and Miss Darcy don’t look too well, if you arst me.”

“Madame did not ask you,” said Marie sourly.

Lady Harrison squealed in delight. “Gerard and Gabrielle! At last!
Mais c’est formidable!
The papa, he is not with them?”

“No, my lady. Just the two young ‘uns, like I said.”

“Marie, my wrap! I go to them immediately. Prepare two chambers, Marie. And Roger, have Mrs ‘Odge provide refreshments in the drawing room, and cancel the carriage for I shall not go out tonight after all. And . . .”

“Which two chambers did madame have in mind?” queried the maid, draping a shawl of Norwich silk about her ladyship’s dimpled shoulders. “I remind madame that all are occupied at present.”

“Oh dear, you are right! Well, Gabrielle must sleep in here for tonight. Make up a bed on the couch. And Gerard will have to share with Alain. I am sure they are much of an age. I very much fear that Monsieur Lecarreau will have to leave tomorrow, so that Gabrielle can have his chamber.”

“And a very good thing too! It is four months since madame first asked Monsieur Lecarreau to depart. Madame is not of sufficient firmness!”

“I know, Marie, for you tell me so often enough. He is a very disagreeable old man, and I am certain he has enough to live on, but it is not easy to turn anyone out, I assure you.”

As she bustled out, Lady Harrison thought she heard a mutter from her maid to the effect that, if it caused the departure of
le vieux crapaud
, the arrival of the Darcys might be considered a blessing in disguise. She hoped that meant her maid would treat the newcomers with complaisance, sparing them the acid tongue she usually used on those she described as leeches who were sucking her mistress dry.

Gabrielle and Gerard, waiting wearily on hard chairs in the marbled entrance hall, were startled to see a large, half-dressed lady bearing down upon them, beaming. As they rose, she enveloped them both in a warm, scented embrace, pressed kisses upon their cheeks, then stepped back to look at them, retaining a hand of each.

“Mes chéris!” she cried. “You are quite grown up, I do declare.
Que je suis heureuse
to see you again! But where is le bon papa?”

“We don’t know,” said Gerard, pink-faced, extricating  his hand with difficulty and making his bow.

Gabrielle curtsied, swaying a little. “It is good to be here, Madame Aurore. Papa told us to come to you.”

“And have I not invited you many and many a time? I am Lady ‘Arrison now, not Madame Aurore, but we will talk of that later. For now that I look at you, Gabrielle, I see that Roger was quite right and you do not look at all well. Come into the drawing room, my dears, and sit down while Marie prepares a bed for you.”

Gabrielle leaning on her brother’s arm, they followed her into a room strikingly decorated in pale blue and gold and white. The furniture was simple and elegant, but somewhat worn.

A young man was standing by the window, gazing out into the darkness of Russell Square. He turned as they entered, displaying dark, wavy hair, blue eyes and classical features, adding up to a face whose undoubted handsomeness was marred only by his moody expression.

“Alain!” exclaimed Lady Harrison. “Let me present you to Mr and Miss Darcy. No, wait a bit. Gabrielle, sit down, chérie, here on this sofa and put your feet up. You are very pale, mon enfant.”

“I am a little tired from the journey, my lady.”

“That sounds so strange! Perhaps you had better call me Madame Aurore after all, as you used to. Have you dined? Then no wonder you are pale. I ordered refreshments. Alain, mon ami, pray go ask Roger what is become of them. No, wait, let me introduce you first. Here are Gabrielle and Gerard Darcy, but now arrived in England. My dears, this is Alain de Vignard. I know you will all be friends, for Alain and Gerard must share a chamber, at least for the present."

The young man was dressed as elegantly as the room was furnished, and with the same hint of shabbiness. Looking at them with eager curiosity, he bowed politely and expressed his willingness to share his accommodation.

“Though indeed I can do no other!” he admitted, with a charming smile that robbed the words of any offence. “If milady had not taken pity on me, I should be living in a garret. If you will excuse me, milady, Miss Darcy, I shall go and clear out my things to leave space for Mr Darcy.”

“No hurry,” said Gerard. “My possessions are all on my back.”

“Then I shall make sure that the admirable Mrs Hodge is indeed preparing refreshments for the travellers.” With a slight bow he left.

“Poor Alain!” said Lady Harrison. “His parents died in the Terror and he escaped alone to England when he was scarce sixteen years old. He is some five years older than you, Gabrielle. He had a very difficult time before he came to us. but he has been living here for several years now. Dear Sir Cosmo was so generous in allowing me to help my countrymen! Alain is employed now as a secretary to le général Pichegru. But enough of that. Tell me, my dears, are you come direct from Switzerland?”

By the time they had given her a brief explanation of their arrival, Roger had carried in a tray with a silver teapot and a plate of plain biscuits.

“Oh dear, that will never do!” Lady Harrison said in dismay. “Roger, pray go back to Mrs ‘Odge and tell her to make some sandwiches, and some of the asparagus soup we had at dinner. It is all Marie’s fault,” she explained. “She has persuaded the good Mrs ‘Odge that I am not to eat between meals. You do not know Marie, of course. She was maid to la Vicomtesse de Brabant and was turned out when Madame la Vicomtesse arrived penniless in England. She is a treasure, but very strict!’ Her ladyship looked round guiltily and took a biscuit.

Following her example, Gerard soon cleaned the plate, while a cup of tea revived Gabrielle. Neither was surprised when Lady Harrison helped them demolish the pile of sandwiches that soon appeared. As there were only two bowls provided, she left the soup for them.

By the time they finished eating, Gabrielle was half asleep and even Gerard owned he was ready to retire.

“In that case,” said their hostess buoyantly, “I believe I shall go to Lady Boniface’s after all, for I am sure the supper will not tempt me now. I shall see you tomorrow, my dears!”

* * * *

Gabrielle slept till nearly ten o’clock the next morning and woke feeling very much refreshed. Her side still ached a little when she moved, but she was ready to abandon Dr Hargreaves’s voluminous bandage in favour of a small court-plaster over the scar of her wound.

She pushed back the bed covers and, going to the window, drew the curtains. Russell Square was rain-slicked and deserted, the trees in the central garden collecting grey moisture from the sky and dispensing it in larger drops upon the brilliantly green grass below.

Hearing no movement in the house, she went to the door that had been pointed out to her as that of Lady Harrison’s bedchamber, and listened. Silence. She opened it a few inches and peeked in.

The widow of the late Sir Cosmo Harrison, and of his predecessor, Monsieur le Comte de Lavardac et Casteljaloux, lay fast asleep in her fourposter hung with pink silk. On her head, a nightcap of Valenciennes lace was tied with a matching pink ribbon. She looked like an overgrown cherub.

Gabrielle looked again at the clock on the mantel. Ten o’clock it was, and the church bells were beginning to ring out their urgent summons all over the city. Lady Harrison slept on.

A pier-glass caught Gabrielle’s attention, and she examined her reflection. Her brother was right, the Parisian nightgown was anything but decent! She blushed to think of the long conversation she had had with Mr Everett while wearing nothing more. Except, of course, for a sheet and a couple of blankets, she reassured herself. And she did look quite pretty in it.

A forget-me-not painted ewer on the marble washstand held a little cold water, so she washed in the matching bowl and put on her only clothes. The maid at the King’s Head had bought her a cambric round-gown in a disagreeable shade of yellow, a green spencer which went with it abominably, and a poke bonnet at least a size too large. Perhaps it was just as well she had woken too late for morning church, as she would not dare show herself in fashionable London dressed thus. Nor were her garments in the best of condition after two days on the stage from Dover.

Looking in the mirror again, she decided she looked bilious. Tomorrow Gerard must present their draft at Hoare’s Bank, and then she must persuade Madame Aurore to take her shopping.

* * * *

Madame Aurore needed no persuasion. When Gerard returned from the bank with a pocket full of what he referred to as ‘flimsies,’ she sent for her carriage and the two ladies set out for Bruton Street. Madame knew all the best modistes, and had for some years been unable to indulge to the full her penchant for the latest fashions. She was delighted to help, and had not lost the elegant taste of the true Parisienne.

Gabrielle, however, had been parted in early youth from the extravagant frivolity of Paris and brought up in the thrifty atmosphere of Switzerland. She was shocked by the prices, and no amount of urging from her ladyship would persuade her to buy on tick.

“But your papa will certainly pay!” exclaimed Lady Harrison.

“I expect he would if he were here,” agreed Gabrielle mildly, “but he is not and we have no idea when to expect him. We have limited funds, and Gerard wishes to purchase a commission in the army, which will certainly be expensive, will it not?”

Her ladyship sighed and took her charge to Grafton House.

“Fortunately,” she said, “the season is nearly over. One ball gown, a promenade dress and a simple toilette de soir will do for now.”

“But I have no intention of going to parties!” cried Gabrielle. “I shall just live quietly until Papa comes.”

“Nonsense, chérie. Believe me, Papa would wish it so. And it will be such a pleasure for me to chaperone a pretty girl instead of going about by myself. Sir Cosmo was a pillar of the Foreign Office and he had friends in the very best society. They are kind to his poor widow, so we shall not want for invitations.”

“Tell me about Sir Cosmo, madame.”

With a mixture of complacency and becoming modesty that made Gabrielle want to laugh, Lady Harrison described how she had found herself a second husband within six months of her arrival in London.

“I had rather have wed your Papa,” she admitted with a deep sigh, “but I could not abide Neuchâtel and he refused to come to England, or even to go to Vienna. I was so sorry to leave you two little children, but you had still the admirable Mademoiselle Wilford.”

“Whom I must go and see,” Gabrielle murmured to herself.

“And now,” my lady continued sadly, “your Papa is coming at last, and I have grown so fat since Sir  Cosmo died that he will not like even to look at me!”

Unable to deny that Madame Aurore had lost the sylphlike figure she remembered, Gabrielle asked hurriedly, “I suppose my grandfather is dead, or Papa would not be willing to come here now?”

“La, child, has he not told you?”

“No, he never told us anything. He is the most abominably secretive man you can imagine, and we know nothing about his family. So you can begin at the beginning and tell me everything you know.”

“Oh dear,” said Lady Harrison. “I should like to, of all things. But if Maurice does not wish you to know, I must not. Maurice never does anything without a very good reason. You will have to wait until he arrives.”

No amount of pleading would change her mind, though Gabrielle returned several times to the subject as they pored over silks and satins, laces and ribbons. At last, surrounded by packages neatly tied in brown paper and string, they drove back to Russell Square.

The front door of Lady Harrison’s house stood open. As they alighted from the carriage, they heard loud voices within. Her ladyship laid a trembling hand on Gabrielle’s arm, but trod bravely up the steps.

The footman met them at the door.

“It’s the chandler, my lady,” he whispered. “Says the bill for candles hain’t been paid in six months.”

Peering past him, Gabrielle saw Gerard confronting a burly individual with a very red face and bristling mustache.

“Thank you, Roger,” said Lady Harrison with dignity. “Please fetch our parcels from the carriage. I shall deal with this person.”

“I dunno, my lady. Looks nasty to me. Maybe I better stay.”

“My brother and I will be here,” reassured Gabrielle. “But hurry!”

Her ladyship sailed into the hallway, looking the very picture of outraged virtue.

“
Qu’est-ce que c’est?”
she demanded. “Gerard, what goes on here?”

Gerard and the stout chandler both spoke at once, but the tradesman’s louder voice prevailed.

“It’s me bill, my lady. Hain’t bin paid in ever so long and I’ll thank you to see to it, for I’ve babes to feed same as the next man.”

“It must have been mislaid,” declared Lady Harrison. “It shall be paid promptly at the quarter, I promise you, my good man.”

“Oh no, I hain’t budging till I got the blunt, and that’s the truth, my lady.”

Gerard pulled a much diminished roll of notes from his pocket. "How much?” he asked briefly. He whistled when he heard the figure, and glanced at his hostess. Her plump cheeks trembling, my lady nodded. Gabrielle helped her into the drawing room as Gerard handed over the money.

Lady Harrison sank onto a sofa and burst into tears. “I simply do not know where the money goes!” she moaned. “Sir Cosmo left me an excellent income as well as the use of the town house. But, every quarter, Oswald sends back half the bills unpaid and says I have overspent again. And I will not call him Sir Oswald, for he has always been most disagreeable to me and I am sure he does not deserve to have inherited poor Sir Cosmo’s title!”

“Sir Oswald?” Gerard followed them into the room.

“My stepson. He has a wart on his chin and his eyebrows meet in the middle, and try as I may, I cannot trust a man whose eyebrows meet in the middle.”

“Sir Cosmo left your jointure in his charge?” asked Gabrielle.