The Imaginary Gentleman (25 page)

T
HOUGH SHE WOKE EARLY TO
the bustling sounds of an inn, Laura waited until she was sure that the others would be assembled for breakfast before entering the dining parlour. She took her place and accepted a serving of toast before darting a look at Sir Richard in order to read his expression. With crumpled forehead, he shook his head. Laura raised her eyebrows slightly, to indicate that he must be more discreet.

No doubt he felt he was being very subtle, but not subtle enough for Elspeth, whose eyes narrowed. She darted a suspicious look at Mrs. Bell. The wretched woman was blushing!

When they prepared to enter the carriages, Mrs. Bell was handed into the countess's barouche. “I have missed you terribly, my Ding Dong Bell,” said Lady Clarydon.

Laura felt a sense of relief that the tension of yesterday might not be repeated, with Mrs. Bell in another vehicle.

“I will travel with you, if I may, dear Richard,” said Elspeth.

Just as Sir Richard handed Elspeth into the carriage, Laura heard a voice behind her whisper “Miss … Miss …”

Laura turned and recognised the maid who had attended their party at table the night before.

“Oh, it is you,” she said. “Is your hand a little better? It was very painful, I am sure.”

“Thank'ee, miss. You was kind to me—you asked mistress not to work me too hard today.”

“I am very happy if she has heeded my request.”

The girl quickly looked over her shoulder before whispering, “I knows about the letter!”

Laura looked at her in astonishment. “What letter? I'm afraid I do not understand you.” Could the girl have seen her pass the letter to Richard? she wondered.

The girl's eyes narrowed. “You do know! I want to tell you that I'll never tell, not never.”

“You have confused me with some other lady,” said Laura.

“It were you as writ a letter to the gen'leman a few weeks past!”

So she does not refer to last night, thought Laura.

Elspeth lowered the carriage window. “Let us be off, Laura.”

“Wait, Elspeth. I wish to understand what this girl is saying.” Laura walked a few paces away and the servant girl followed her.

“You say I sent a letter to … a gentleman?”

“Yes, but don' be afeard. I'll tell Jem … my sweetheart, not to say nothing to no one.”

“I wrote no such letter.”

The girl bristled. “I were trying to help. He were told not to tell no one or he'll lose his place.”

“What?”

“He were give the letter to carry.”

Elspeth called loudly and Sir Richard came to escort Laura to the carriage.

“I am sure you mean well,” said Laura.

She took Sir Richard's hand and he assisted her into the carriage. He followed her and took his place.

Elspeth gave the servant girl a withering look before she pulled the blind up. “Let us go at once, Richard,” she said.

He rapped his stick on the roof of the carriage and they started off down the road.

“What has that wretched girl been saying?” Elspeth asked.

Laura merely looked perplexed.

“Well, Laura? Answer me, pray.”

Laura took a deep breath and said, as calmly as she could, “She claims I sent a letter to … a gentleman.”

“Oh, Laura, how could you?”

“You asked me what the girl said and I'm telling you. Of course I did not write such a letter—as if I would!”

Elspeth looked at her doubtfully. “I do hope …”

“Elspeth, I know, with absolute certainty, that I would never have conducted a clandestine correspondence with any gentleman who
was neither related nor engaged to me. It would go completely against my nature to do something so improper.”

“That is true, I believe,” conceded Elspeth.

“Thank you.”

“The horrid girl probably made the story up overnight, thinking you'd pay for her silence.”

“That will be it,” said Sir Richard.

“She did not ask me for money.”

“That does not mean she did not hope for it,” said Elspeth.

They rode along in silence for a time. Laura thought over the brief incident the evening before.

“At dinner, the girl seemed surprised at hearing my name.”

“Why would that be?” said Elspeth.

“She has a sweetheart in service somewhere hereabouts—Jem is his name. If he is in Lyme, he may have heard something of me,” said Laura.

“Perhaps he is employed at the inn, if he was asked to carry a letter …” said Sir Richard.

“There was no letter, Cousin,” said Elspeth.

“Oh yes, I was trying to be of assistance.”

“Of course you were.” Elspeth smiled condescendingly. The chill in her tone reminded him of the low value she was accustomed to place on his assistance.

Laura was watching Elspeth carefully. The memory arose before her of young Mr. Woodruff furtively handing her sister a note as she got into the carriage that day. She recalled the way Elspeth covered it with her shawl before slipping into her reticule. At the time, Laura thought it a love letter and had felt sorry for him in advance of the reply. Now she wondered.

“Why are you looking at me in that way, Laura?” said Elspeth.

“I think of letters—of who might write them and why.”

“You have been imposed upon, Laura.”

“People do sometimes write secret letters.”

Elspeth laughed, yet Laura felt unconvinced.

“There was truth in her looks,” said Laura.

“My dear, it is her cunning. These people have no scruples when it comes to parting the gullible from their money.”

“Or perhaps the letter is an embellishment of the story by her admirer,” said Sir Richard.

“Well thought!” said Elspeth, giving Laura a triumphant look.

She glided on to another subject with a laughing reference to future letters that might pass between people close to her. This hint about the coming wedding produced so dismal a response that Elspeth began to be more than a little frightened about the match. She wondered at the wisdom of their party going to Clarydon Castle, or Lyme, or indeed anywhere at all, in the company of Mrs. Bell.

 

Laura felt a surge of anxiety, and pressed her hand to her stomach as the carriage turned into the road that descended to Lyme. There was a lurch of the carriage when the coachman applied the brake and she braced herself against the cushions.

“Are you well, Laura?” asked Sir Richard.

“Yes, perfectly,” she said.

Sir Richard gave her one of his puppy looks and she knew he understood her.

“I will take you down to the Cobb when we arrive,” he said. “You will feel better then.”

“I shall enjoy that.”

Elspeth was all coyness. “I am not well enough to accompany you, Cousin,” she said.

As they came down the steep little street, Laura was all but overwhelmed by thoughts of … no, no, she told herself. I will not think of him.

Their carriage pulled up behind the countess's, near the bottom of the street.

“The Three Cups! You have your wish, Elspeth,” said Laura.

“Her ladyship cannot be expected to stay at the Lion,” her sister replied.

The baronet jumped down and turned to hand the ladies out. As
Laura stepped down into Lyme again, her anxiety was swept away by a sense of excitement. The salty wind blowing up from the sea lifted her spirits at once. A young idler gawked at her—mouth round with surprise, but he dropped his gaze at once when she caught his look.

Lady Clarydon was entering the inn and a voice could be heard calling, “Quick now, George—'tis the Countess of Clarydon!” The landlord hurried up from the cellar to join his wife in bowing the party in. They were ushered up to the largest set of rooms in the place. After refreshing themselves, they reassembled in the wide, low sitting room and the countess ordered their dinner.

“Miss Morrison and I will take a turn out to the Cobb,” said Sir Richard. “Who will join us?”

“I am by no means up to such an adventure,” said the countess.

“Nor I,” said Elspeth.

Mrs. Bell began to rise.

“
You
wish to walk out, Mrs. Bell!” said Elspeth, seemingly astonished.

“How can you be so cruel as to desert me, my own?” said the countess. She turned to the baronet. “I must deprive you of my dear Mrs. Bell, Sir Richard. I find I cannot do without her.”

Mrs. Bell blushed and sank down into her seat.

Elspeth came over to Laura and adjusted her yellow scarf.

“Really, Elspeth, I am not five years old!” said Laura.

“I delight in seeing you at your best, my darling. I hope you will not walk out on the Cobb, Dear Heart. It may be damp, even though the day is fine.”

Laura rolled her eyes. “Yes, Mama,” she said.

“You cannot make me angry, my love.” Then, as though she were planting a kiss on her sister's cheek, she leant up and whispered, “Pray, do not be so odd and cold to my cousin. I beg you to set a date for your marriage this afternoon.”

Laura extricated herself. Elspeth took both her sister's hands and surveyed her appearance. “How very well you look in this coat, my darling.” With narrowed eyes, she silently mouthed the words, “Do it!”

With trepidation still, Laura stood at the top of the stairs. The town was the scene of her final humiliation two months before. Sir Richard patted her hand, where it rested on his arm and she managed a strained smile.

“They bundled me down the stairs at the Lion, like a criminal, Richard,” she said quietly.

“Things will be different, now. You saw how the countess was received here.”

“I am safe in the inn, yes.”

“Put them in their place with one of your famous set downs.”

She laughed. “Am I really so fierce as that?”

“You are dreadful.”

“Excellent.”

They descended the stairs to the street, where Laura felt glad of her warm coat, for the wind was cold. Sir Richard's coachman hovered near the door.

“What ho, Jenkins!” cried the baronet. “How is old Betsy? Did you take a look at her leg?”

“Aye, Sir Richard, and I don't much like the look of it.”

“Well, ask the fellow at the stables for his opinion. Two heads are better than one.”

They walked back into the street and Laura sensed a difference since her departure from the place—a few people stared then turned their heads away, that was all.

“This is not so bad,” said Sir Richard.

They began to follow the path around to the Cobb. The sea was a splendid greenish-blue, with white caps racing along in the bay beyond the breakwater. The stiff breeze caused Sir Richard to clamp his hat down firmly on his head, while Laura tied her scarf over her bonnet.

Sir Richard smiled. “I do like that yellow scarf, Laura. How well you look in the wind. Your eyes are taking on a splendid lustre.”

“No doubt my nose will follow their example before long!”

Laura looked out along the deserted breakwater.

“Shall we dare Elspeth's anger and walk along it?” asked Laura.

“Let us take the lower walkway,” he said.

At the point furthest from the shore, no one was about; and they stopped near a spot where a coil of thick rope lay. Looking into the bay, Sir Richard signalled the beginning of a speech by humming and hawing.

At last he began. “I have read your letter, Laura, and find I cannot give way to you.” He cleared his throat and looked down at the water, continuing, in a low rumble, to deliver what seemed a practised speech. “All in the neighbourhood around Oakmont expect that our marriage will take place. We will be exposed to gossip if the match is broken off; I will be censured, and you, especially, may feel some damage to your prospects.”

“What prospects are those, Richard?” she said. “Let us face the truth, and that is that you have been my … only worthwhile suitor all these years. I shall recover.”

“Nay, Laura, dear, I cannot let you take this step.” His glance slid away across the waves. They stood side by side, Sir Richard looking far away onto the watery vista. He frowned and his jaw tightened. “I am determined to be your husband and to make you happy.”

Laura felt her heart sink at the thought of starting their life together with this dogged determination.

“How shall I make you happy, Richard? I feel the deepest disquiet when I think of our future together. Treasured friend though you are, you will regret it, I feel.”

“What should I regret—after wanting this union for so long?”

“Oh, Richard!” The distance still held her gaze. “You have said that it is time to abandon dreams.”

“Can we not trot along together in harness and be happier than when we pulled our carts alone?”

An image of the two of them trotting along and pulling a cart behind them made Laura smile, in spite of the awkwardness of their situation.

Sir Richard took her hand. “Name the day, my dear, and all your troubles will be done with.” He took a step to one side, stumbling slightly on the ropes.