The Belle Dames Club (9 page)

Polite applause followed and Lady Sarah cried, ‘Well done, Mr Henderson, you bring the poet’s work to life for us.’

The actor bowed and sat down.

Clarissa leaned closer to Lady Wyckenham, sitting beside her.

‘Mr Cowper’s words may have been written for someone returning from Ramsgate, but they could as easily apply to
others.’ She raised her eyes to the gentleman standing behind their sofa. ‘Do you not agree, Sir Robert, that those words could have been written for you?’

He grinned.

‘I am very conscious of the fact that in all my wandering I have not yet been shipwrecked: pity, when I have taken the trouble to learn to swim.’

Lady Wyckenham shuddered.

‘I pray you will not talk of it, even in jest, sir.’

‘If it relieves your mind, Helen, I think this expedition will be my last. I am growing too old for such excitement and will let the younger men take over.’

Lady Wyckenham smiled up at him.

‘Well that is good news, but what will you do? I do not see you as a man of leisure, Robert.’

‘I have my gardens at Newfield Hall to tend, and my work with plants. I plan to catalogue all my discoveries, with pictures of each new plant – perhaps you would like to work with me, as my resident artist?’

‘What a capital idea,’ cried Clarissa. ‘You draw like an angel, Mama-Nell.’

My lady plied her fan to cool her burning cheeks.

‘Nonsense, I am not nearly good enough.’

‘You know you are as good as any artist I have ever taken on a voyage,’ returned Sir Robert. ‘I know I would enjoy having you working with me on this project.’

Clarissa looked at her stepmother, but under her enquiring gaze Lady Wyckenham looked away.

‘Perhaps, Sir Robert, you should discuss this again with my stepmama at some later date, when she has had time to consider it properly,’ suggested Clarissa, earning for herself a grateful look from the gentleman.

‘Nonsense, he is merely funning,’ said Lady Wyckenham. ‘Now who, I wonder, is to speak next – Sir Robert, you have prepared something?’

‘Why yes, I have prepared a few lines by my good friend Gilbert White about the calm days of winter.’

‘Oh, the weather.’

‘It is a fascinating subject, Helen. At Newfield I have a small sun-house built in the grounds and when I am there I record each day’s weather.’ He leaned towards her. ‘When you visit me I will show you. It is quite secluded.’

Clarissa hid her smile as she heard these words and noted the tell-tale flush mounting to her stepmother’s cheek.

‘Hush now,’ she murmured, ‘I think we have another reader. Goodness, I think our host is going to read to us.’

Sir Toby Matlock stepped up, resplendent in a powdered
bag-wig
and a gold and green frock-coat.

‘Oh good,’ said Lady Wyckenham. ‘He usually provides
something
very entertaining.’

A hush descended over the room and Sir Toby took a deep breath and began to sing in a rich baritone.

‘
Here’s to a maiden of bashful fifteen, Here’s to the widow of fifty
….’

Lady Wyckenham nodded.

‘Sheridan,’ she whispered to Clarissa. ‘He can always be relied upon to make us laugh.’

A movement by the door caught Clarissa’s attention and she looked up to see Lady Gaunt entering, Mrs Sowerby and Mrs Flooke, the dashing sisters, at her side and her little black page holding up the train of her gown. They remained by the door until Sir Toby had finished, then made their way towards Lady Wyckenham. Lady Sarah came over to them, saying with mock severity, ‘You are very late, Dorothea.’

Lady Gaunt raised one languid hand.

‘Sally, my abject apologies. Emily and Georgiana were dining with me and dear Gaunt decided to join us.’

Lady Wyckenham looked up.

‘I did not know your husband was in town, Dorothea.’

‘
En passant
, my dear. He is on his way to Tonbridge, but
plans to join me here next week. Then he is off to Derbyshire for the summer.’

‘And will you go with him?’ asked Clarissa.

‘My dear of course she will go!’ cried Georgiana, dropping on to a nearby chair. ‘Under her languid exterior Dorothea is passionately fond of her husband.’

Lady Gaunt looked pained.

‘Georgy, you make me sound like a provincial,’ she complained, gently descending on to the settee beside Clarissa.

‘But you are fond of him?’

‘Oh lord, yes, Clarissa. He lets me have my own way and live in town for a few months each year, but when I am bored, I run back to my darling Gaunt. Now who is to read next?’

Miss Wyckenham looked about her expectantly. Her eyes widened when a slim figure in grey satin made her way to the centre of the room.

‘Miss Medway!’ she exclaimed.

Lady Gaunt looked up and murmured, ‘Then we are unlikely to hear comic verse.’

Looking through the crowd Clarissa saw Lady Medway seated in a far alcove, Lord Alresford at her side.

‘I had not seen their party,’ she confessed. ‘I did not think Sarah was acquainted with them.’

‘Most likely it is Sir Toby’s doing,’ said Emily, sitting close by. ‘These little soirées are much more in his line and Sarah consults him on those to invite. I see Alresford is still dancing attendance. They say it is a match between him and little Florence Medway.’

Clarissa could not resist.

‘He was engaged to her cousin, I think?’

‘Yes: his poor bride died only days before the wedding.’

‘Did you know her?’

‘Elizabeth Medway? No.’ She giggled. ‘We were never introduced: she was far too virtuous for our company.’

Lady Gaunt raised her hand to indicate that the reading was
about to start. Miss Medway opened a large, leather-bound volume.

‘I shall read to you from Mr Thomas Day’s poem,
The Dying Negro
,’ she began in a soft, well-modulated voice. ‘As some of you will know, the poem was conceived some years ago, when Mr Day learned of a slave who killed himself rather than be sent back to the plantation.’

‘Definitely
not
comic verse.’ muttered Lady Gaunt, settling back in her seat.

Miss Medway read well and Clarissa listened, enthralled by the unravelling story of the Negro’s abduction from Africa, the horrors of the plantation and his tranquil life in England, which was shattered when he was taken by slavers again. It was only when the reading came to an end that she realized the whole room had lapsed into a silence that continued for some moments after Miss Medway had closed her book. Then there was a burst of applause.

‘Oh that was so affecting,’ declared Lady Sarah, who had been standing close by during the recital. ‘One wishes there was something to be done.’

‘Give up sugar, to begin with,’ said Sir Robert. ‘If a protest interferes with trade, the government will take notice.’

Lady Sarah looked aghast, but her duties as hostess claimed her attention and she went off to encourage the next reader to take to the floor. He was a thin young man who shifted
uncomfortably
from one foot to the other while he ran a finger around his snowy neck-cloth.

‘It is strange that Miss Medway should read that work because I, too, have chosen the same subject. If I may read to you a few lines from Mr James Grainger.’

‘Even older than the previous poem,’ murmured Lady Wyckenham.

The young man began his reading hesitantly but Miss Medway’s impassioned rendition had prepared the way and his audience gave him their full attention, rewarding his efforts
with enthusiastic applause. Clarissa glanced at Lady Gaunt, sitting upright beside her. She was staring into space, one hand on the shoulder of her little page, who was kneeling at her feet. As one in a trance she repeated the lines from the poem, ‘… knock off the chains of heart-debasing slavery.’ Her eyes dropped to the page’s black curly hair. ‘Yes, knock off the chains.’

Clarissa was about to ask her what she meant when Lady Wyckenham claimed her attention.

‘My love, Sir Robert is escorting me into the supper-room, do you wish to come with us?’

‘Thank you, Mama-Nell, I will sit here, if you do not object?’

As Lady Wyckenham went off on Sir Robert’s arm, Emily Sowerby unfurled her fan.

‘I do not see Sir Howard here this evening. How I wish we could have been with you at Norwell House, Clarissa, when you tricked him so finely. Dorothea told us all about it. Do you think he has left town, ma’am?’

She had to repeat the question before she gained Lady Gaunt’s attention and even then that lady could only shrug.

‘I have not seen him. Sally told me Sir Toby had invited him tonight.’

‘Well, I do hope he is gone,’ said Clarissa. ‘So much more comfortable for Julia if he has retired to the country.’

Georgiana shuddered. ‘Such an odious little man, and the Norwells have been transformed since your little trick, Dorothea. I saw Julia and her husband in Bond Street today. Barnabus was being most attentive.’

‘Yes,’ nodded Emily, ‘And Julia was looking radiant. She
positively
dotes
on Barnabus.’

‘So it would seem we have done some good,’ remarked Clarissa, relieved. ‘I am so glad they are happy. Let us hope it deters Sir Howard from playing his little tricks on other poor women.’

‘It may, for a while,’ replied Lady Gaunt, ‘but I doubt it will
be a permanent change.’ She rose. ‘Excuse me, I see Lady Martingale beckoning….’

Emily and Georgiana moved away soon after and Clarissa was left alone. The crowd was thinning as the guests made their way to the supper-room and Clarissa decided she would go in search of Lady Wyckenham. She realized her fan had slipped from her lap and she was obliged to reach down to recover it from the floor. Her fingers had just clasped the fan when she became aware that a gentleman was standing in front of her. She noted the white silk stockings and buckled shoes and, as she straightened in her seat, her eyes travelled up over the biscuit-coloured knee-breeches to the
midnight-blue
coat, embroidered waistcoat and blindingly white
neck-cloth
. She continued to raise her eyes until she was looking at Lord Alresford’s impassive countenance.

With the earl towering over her, memories of their last stormy meeting flooded through Clarissa, heating her cheeks.

‘Miss Wyckenham.’

‘Good evening, my lord.’

‘You are alone, madam. May I escort you to supper?’

‘No – I – that is, thank you, my lord, but I am not hungry.’

‘If I may?’

Taking her silence as acquiescence he sat down beside her on the sofa. Clarissa found herself with nothing to say and after a few moments the earl broke the silence.

‘You are enjoying the readings, Miss Wyckenham?’

‘Yes, my lord. I was much struck by Miss Medway’s recital.’

‘Yes. She reads well, but I believe the subject matter made some of the audience uncomfortable.’

‘As it should,’ she replied. ‘Slavery is surely an abhorrence to any free man or woman.’

‘You think it should be abolished?’

‘I do, yet I am at a loss to know how it is to be achieved: if slavery were to vanish overnight there would be such a void to fill: it is bound up with a great deal of our commerce, I think. There would be great opposition.’

The earl regarded her more closely.

‘You have clearly given the matter some thought, ma’am.’

‘Not as much as it deserves, but—’ she broke off as Lady Medway and her daughter approached, and felt a pang of regret that her tête-à-tête with Lord Alresford had been
interrupted
.

The earl rose as the ladies approached, Lady Medway
fluttering
her fan towards him by way of a greeting.

‘There you are, my lord. Florence was just wondering what had become of you. Miss Wyckenham, good evening to you.’

‘How are you enjoying the evening, Miss Wyckenham?’ asked Miss Medway with a sweet, false smile. ‘No doubt the Sheridan was to your taste?’

Clarissa responded with a wide smile of her own.

‘Of course, I always enjoy his work. May I congratulate you on your own performance, Miss Medway?’

The young lady lowered her eyes and gently smoothed her hands over her gown.

‘Thank you, Miss Wyckenham. Mama was concerned it might be a little too … advanced for this evening: it is well known that Lady Sarah and her friends are more inclined to levity than serious discussion.’

Clarissa continued to smile, but her eyes glittered
dangerously
.

‘Each has its place, Miss Medway. An unvaried diet of serious topics cannot be healthy: so ageing, do you not agree?’

The earl hurried into the breach.

‘I believe Miss Wyckenham shares your sentiments on
slavery
, Miss Medway.’

Florence acknowledged this with no more than a lift of an eyebrow.

‘Oh? Is that the fashionable view now? I had thought it a little too complicated for most ladies to comprehend fully.’

‘Oh, what is complicated?’ asked Lady Wyckenham coming up at that moment.

The earl bowed to her.

‘We were speaking of abolitionism, ma’am.’

My lady nodded sagely.

‘Ah, yes. You are right, then. A very weighty subject.’

‘But not one ladies of any rank should ignore,’ added Miss Medway. ‘Yet I daresay there will be precious few at Mr Sharp’s next meeting.’

‘One has to be advised of an event before one can attend,’ responded Lady Wyckenham, a gentle rebuke in her tone. ‘Where was it announced?’

‘Oh I am sure there was some report of it in the newspapers.’ Lady Medway waved her hand in a vague way.

‘It takes place on the fifteenth, above the Golden Lion in Eagle Street,’ said Miss Medway. ‘Holborn: not a venue to appeal to the fashionable.’ She laid her hand on the earl’s arm. ‘Forgive me, my lord: we came to find you to go down to supper and I have been rattling on, quite forgetting my hunger, or mama’s. Shall we go?’

Lord Alresford inclined his head and with a nod towards Clarissa he led his party away.

‘Well!’ Lady Wyckenham opened her fan with a snap. ‘Such a display of self-righteousness.’

‘Indeed, Mama-Nell, I fear Miss Medway thinks us very
frippery
creatures.’

‘She is mistaken,’ declared my lady. She beckoned to Lady Gaunt who was crossing the room with Emily and Georgiana.
‘My dears, I hope you are free next week, on Thursday evening?’

The ladies looked at one another.

‘There is a masked ball at the Pantheon,’ said Georgiana, ‘but we need not go.’

‘And I had thought I would look in at Lady Somerton’s rout,’ added Lady Gaunt. ‘But if you have something more
interesting
to offer, Helen….’

‘Something of a much more improving nature,’ declared Lady Wyckenham, a martial light in her eye. ‘On Thursday night the ladies of the Belles Dames Club will be attending Mr Sharp’s meeting in Eagle Street.’

‘Grenville Sharp, the reformer?’ asked Emily.

‘The very same,’ affirmed my lady. ‘We will be supporting his call to abolish slavery.’

There was a stunned silence, the ladies looked at each other, then Lady Gaunt laughed.

‘Why not?’ she said. ‘It might be amusing. We must tell Sally.’

‘But what should one wear?’ cried Emily.

Clarissa gave a gurgle of laughter.

‘Something incredibly dull, I think!’