Rake's Progress (9 page)

‘No, Mr Rainbird.'

Rainbird smiled with pleasure at the flattering use of that little word ‘Mr' in front of his name. The small courtesy meant more to him than any lavish tip.

‘And,' he pursued, ‘are you in comfortable circumstances?'

‘Very. I regret to confess to one sin. I gamble on 'Change. It is said in the City that my wealth rivals that of Rothschild.'

‘May I say, then, Miss Jones, you will have no trouble at all in attracting the attention of the
ton
when such facts are made known.'

‘Are they
all
so mercenary?'

‘In the main, yes. Of course, my master has a mind above such worldly things,' said Rainbird, tilting his head on one side and looking at her searchingly.

But Esther did not rise to the bait. ‘And how do you go about broadcasting such tempting facts? You can hardly take an advertisement in the
Morning Post
.'

‘Servants' gossip is very useful if cleverly used,' said Rainbird. ‘Tonight I will go out drinking and gossiping. By tomorrow, the whole of Berkeley Square will know of the existence of Miss Jones.'

‘And then I shall send out my invitations to a children's party,' cried Esther, her eyes shining. ‘It is a wonderful idea!'

‘What a deuced stupid idea,' said Lord Guy crossly after Rainbird had reported back to him. ‘A children's party! Of what use is that to me?'

‘Have you ever attended a
ton
children's party, my lord?' asked Rainbird.

‘No. Have you?'

‘Yes, my lord. Before I went into service, I worked as an acrobat on the fairgrounds, also as a magician and juggler. I came to London and hired myself out as an entertainer for children's parties. It nigh broke my spirit.'

A wicked gleam entered Lord Guy's eye. ‘And does the fair Miss Jones know what she is in for?'

‘No, my lord. She has only seen the children of Mayfair accompanied by strict nannies and governesses. She has never seen what the little darlings are like when they are with their fond mamas.'

‘And where do I come in?'

‘I think, my lord, you come in just about half an hour after the party has begun. I shall be looking for you as you fortuitously happen to be strolling past.'

‘And I leap to the rescue?'

‘Yes, my lord. You step in with a firm hand and a stern moralizing tone.'

‘Have
you
been invited?' asked Lord Guy. This butler was an attractive fellow with his trim figure and humourous face. Could Miss Jones . . . ? Lord
Guy almost swore. He was becoming jealous of a servant.

‘Yes, my lord,' said Rainbird. ‘I am the entertainer. Angus MacGregor, your lordship's chef, has been engaged for the day. He is wonderful at making elaborate confectionery.'

‘Has Miss Jones not managed to train her servants properly that she needs must borrow mine?'

‘It takes a certain type of servant,' said Rainbird. ‘We are not all alike, my lord.'

‘No, I can see that. It was uncharitable of me.'

‘Joseph is to serve the ices and jellies to the children.' Rainbird studied the ceiling. ‘Joseph is a sensitive creature and brings out the worst in women and children.'

The street door knocker began to sound.

‘Let Manuel answer that,' said Lord Guy.

‘Your servant went out, my lord, just after you arrived home.'

‘Then send whoever it is away. I am in no mood for callers.'

Rainbird came back a few minutes later with a silver card on a tray, which he presented to Lord Guy.

‘It is a Lady Debenham,' he said, ‘with her children's governess. She insists on seeing your lordship. She claims her governess was grossly insulted by Joseph.'

‘That is Joseph of the sensitive nature?'

‘Yes, my lord.'

‘Must I see her?'

‘That is for you to say, my lord,' said Rainbird. ‘Lady Debenham lives at Number Fifty-two.'

‘Very well. Bring her in. And Joseph.'

Lord Guy rose to his feet as Lady Debenham entered the room.

She looked remarkably like her governess, being harsh of feature and haughty of manner. She sat down primly, and Miss Hunt stood to attention behind her chair.

‘I would not have come here had I not felt strongly over the insult to my poor Miss Hunt,' began Lady Debenham.

Joseph sidled in and stood looking wretched.

‘Pray tell me what happened, Lady Debenham,' said Lord Guy.

‘Your footman, accompanied by another footman, approached Miss Hunt. Your footman had the impertinence to present her with a silk rose, which she, of course, refused. One of them shouted something frightful at her. Miss Hunt has great sensibility. She had a Spasm as soon as she was safely inside the house.

‘It offends my sensibilities to have to set foot inside
this
house, my lord. I take leave to tell you, you have brought shame on Mayfair with your antics. I take further leave to tell you—'

Lord Guy raised a hand.

‘Enough!' he said. ‘Joseph, come here! What exactly was said by you or this other footman?'

‘It wasn't me, honest, my lord. It was Luke,' said Joseph, shuffling forward and standing with his head bowed.

‘Raise your head, man, when you address me!'

Joseph raised his head. There was the glint of tears in his eyes and his lip was trembling.

‘I ask you again, what did this fellow, Luke, say?'

‘I give . . . gave a silk rose to Miss Hunt, as a present, like,' said Joseph miserably. ‘She said nothink, just raised her eyebrows and turned her back. Luke, he . . . he . . .'

‘Come on. Come on. Out with it!'

‘He said, “I bets you w-wears d-dirty d-drawers,”' said Joseph, beginning to sob.

Lord Guy took out his quizzing glass, polished it, raised it to one eye and thoughtfully studied the iron-faced Miss Hunt.

‘And do you?' he asked mildly.

‘My lord?' said Miss Hunt.

‘Do you wear dirty drawers?'

Rainbird turned quickly away to hide a smile. Joseph's mouth dropped open.

Lady Debenham began to make strange puffing noises, like one of the new steam engines. Then, out of all the chugging and puffing, her voice suddenly screamed, ‘How
dare
you?'

‘If you walk into my house and insult me,' said Lord Guy indifferently, ‘then you must expect to be insulted in return.'

‘You, my lord, are as bad as your servants.'

‘And you, my lady, are a sour-faced, ungracious, Friday-faced frump, just like
your
servant.'

‘Come, Miss Hunt,' cried Lady Debenham.

‘I feel a Spasm coming on,' faltered Miss Hunt.

‘Pull yourself together,' snapped Lady Debenham. ‘It is I who is entitled to have a Spasm, not you.'

She swept out, nearly colliding with Rainbird as he leapt to hold the door open for her.

Rainbird saw them out and returned to the front parlour.
I must not laugh
, he thought, but laughter was bubbling up inside him.

‘Now, Joseph,' said Lord Guy, ‘it seems you were wrong in your choice of friend and in your choice of inamorata. What on earth made you want to give an expensive present to a nasty woman like that?'

Joseph hung his head. ‘It wasn't really for her, my lord. It was for Lizzie.'

Lizzie?
thought Lord Guy. Then his face cleared. Lizzie was the scullery maid who had so impressed Miss Jones.

‘Ah,' he said, ‘our Lizzie is by way of being something of a catalyst.'

‘No, my lord,' said Joseph. ‘Lizzie's a Roman Catholic.'

‘Well, if you bought the rose for Lizzie, why give it to Miss Hunt?'

‘I lied to Luke, my lord. Luke is Lord Charteris', next doors', first footman. I couldn't tell him it was for Lizzie, me being a footman, my lord.'

‘Why not?'

Joseph blushed and remained silent. Rainbird stepped into the breach. ‘What Joseph is trying to say, my lord, is that a scullery maid in the hierarchy of the servants' hall is far beneath a footman. It
would be rather like your lordship buying a genteel present for a tavern wench.'

Lord Guy blinked. He had often found himself becoming impatient with the snobberies of the
ton
. He had never guessed that such rigid divisions of caste existed belowstairs.

‘I cannot chastise Luke,' said Lord Guy. ‘That is a job for Lord Charteris. You are infuriating, you know. I don't know what came over me. I have never been so rude to a lady in the whole of my life. Get out of here and consider yourself lucky that I don't complain to the Duke of Pelham's agent about you.'

‘Thank you, my lord,' said Joseph, scuttling off.

Lord Guy turned to the butler. ‘Now, Rainbird,' he began. He broke off. Rainbird's face was twitching, and his eyes glistened with tears.

‘Oh, laugh, if you want to,' sighed Lord Guy.

Rainbird began to laugh. It started off as a restrained titter and ended up as a guffaw. He laughed helplessly, holding his sides, the tears streaming down his cheeks.

Lord Guy began to laugh as well. He was laughing because Rainbird's laughter was infectious, and the world was suddenly a glittering and wonderful place because of the very existence of one stern goddess of Berkeley Square.

The servants had a brief account of what had happened from Joseph – although Joseph did not say the present had really been for Lizzie. The presence of Manuel, who slid round the door and
joined them, put a damper on the conversation. They were wondering how to get rid of him when Rainbird joined them and said to Manuel, ‘Have you been mucking about with the newspaper?'

‘Please. I do not understand,' said Manuel.

‘It's like this. The
Morning Post
and the
News
are delivered daily. When his lordship has finished with them, he gives them to me to take down to the servants. Angus said that an article had been cut out of one of the papers with scissors.'

Manuel shrugged. ‘His lordship, he want it for something.'

‘It was not his lordship. I asked him. It wasn't one of us, so that leaves you.'

‘I go,' said Manuel, and vanished out the door.

‘Odd,' said Rainbird. ‘But that's got rid of him. Wait till you hear this!'

The servants roared with laughter over the insult to Lady Debenham and her governess – with the exception of Lizzie, who was still hurt. Rainbird thought Joseph should tell Lizzie himself that he had really bought the rose for her and so left out that part of it.

Then he told them about his interview with Miss Jones.

They laughed and gossiped and plotted. Joseph got out his mandolin and began to strum a lively song.

Lord Guy and Mr Roger, stepping out, paused to listen to the sounds of merriment drifting up from the basement.

‘I tell you, Tommy,' said Lord Guy, ‘there's a whole other life goes on down there.'

Esther had told her business managers, the gentlemen who ‘fronted' for her in the buying and selling of stocks and shares, that she would do no further work until the Season was over.

Up until recently, money had been security. The very sight of her father throwing it away on frivolous trifles had eaten into her soul. But now, for Peter's and Amy's sake, she reminded herself sternly, it was time to loosen the purse strings.

For the first time in her life, she felt the need of a female companion badly. Her father's scandalous mode of living had set her apart from the young ladies of the neighbourhood when she was growing up. Now she wished she had someone to help her choose clothes.

But she gritted her teeth and summoned London's leading dressmaker to Berkeley Square and ordered a new wardrobe. She applied for, and got, a box at the opera, not knowing that, had it not been for Rainbird's timely gossip, she would have been turned down by the stern committee who kept the Italian Opera as exclusive as Almack's Assembly Rooms.

Although she had reached the great age of twenty-six, put on caps, and resigned herself to a life as a spinster, Esther knew that she would be damned as eccentric if she made her appearance at the opera unescorted. In despair, she sent for
Rainbird, the only person she knew who might be able to solve her problem.

As far as the children's party was concerned, at least, all seemed set for success. The invitations had gone out, and had all been accepted.

While Esther worried about making her social début, Lord Guy had received a sharp setback to his own plans.

A middle-aged cousin he only vaguely remembered arrived on his doorstep, complete with luggage, carrying a letter from his father, the Earl of Cramworth. Her name was Miss Ruth Fipps. She was fat, pleasant and faded, and sure of her welcome.

‘Your father will explain everything,' she said. ‘That nice housekeeper, Mrs Middleton, suggests I should take the large bedroom next to the dining room while you and Mr Roger share the bedrooms on the next floor.'

‘She did, did she?' said Lord Guy pleasantly, although he was wishing Miss Fipps would disappear. He waited until Alice had served his cousin with tea and left the room, and then he opened the letter from his father.

The earl wrote that he had received Guy's letter from Portugal giving his proposed address in London. He went on to give a great deal of rambling gossip about the estate, and ended, ‘I am sending you Miss Fipps, your cousin, and one of our poor relations. I have had her with me this age, and feel it is time you shared some of the
responsibility of looking after the family incumbents. If you are still suffering from the effects of the fever, she can help to nurse you. I may also be sending you your Great Aunt Josephine. If, however, you have decided to please me by taking a wife – and I do not mean someone else's wife – I shall send for Miss Fipps and spare you Great Aunt Josephine's presence.'

Lord Guy put down the letter and smiled bleakly at Miss Fipps, who nodded vaguely and smiled back.