A London Season (27 page)

Her anger was increasing as she thought of what, it now seemed plain to her,
Mr.
Royden had planned for Persephone. It would explain, only too well, the advantage he had seen for himself
in
playing Cupid
, as he had called it. Well, she, Elinor Radley, was going to have the last word! How very surprised he would be to see her coming towards his post-chaise instead of Persephone
—
indeed, she rather thought she would
not
let him see who it was until the last moment, lest he perceive the failure of his plan and drive off before she had a chance to say that highly satisfying last word! Snatching up the light pelisse which had covered her gown during the drive home from Richmond, she put it on, and pulled the hood up over her head.
“Wait here, Charlotte, and try not to fret!” she said kindly. “I am only going to be a minute! If
—
if Persephone should come in while I am out, though, you had better not let her come out into the street, where I am going to speak to your brother. Just give her both those letters! And if she seems displeased with what I have done, tell her that
—
that the person whom I told her I had known in Essex was
Mr.
Royden.
That
will make her stop and think
—
and then she will not believe his lying letter, either. I am sorry to ask you to do this, Charlotte. I suppose you have left word with Mary, or with
Mr.
Stead, where you are gone? In any event, I shall be back soon!”

17

B
ut she was not back soon. Poor Charlotte, sitting in the Yellow Parlour and expecting her return at any moment, became increasingly distressed as she puzzled over the significance of those two letters. Though never especially close to her brother, she found it shocking to believe him capable of the subterfuge Elinor read into his own note. And yet Elinor had sounded so certain, and as if she knew far more than she would say! What did that last remark of hers mean, about knowing Grenville in Essex? Of course she had known him in Essex! Charlotte could not understand; it was all a puzzle, and a wretched one at that. She only wished Conington might come and comfort her.

Her wish was to be granted. When half an hour had passed, and Elinor was not yet back, the house, which had stood empty all day but for the servants and the indisposed Miss Merriwether, rapidly began to fill with people. The party from Richmond came home, the little boys all happily tired from exercise in the fresh air. Isabella went to the nursery, and after ascertaining that little Maria was perfectly stout again, though rather sleepy, said that she was tired too, and would rest on her bed until it was time to dress for dinner.

The last member of the party, Persephone, was about to go up to the Yellow Parlour to find Elinor when she met Lord Conington, whom Beale had that moment shown in. Conington, going to call on his betrothed, had learnt from her sister Mary that she was visiting Persephone at Yoxford House, and had decided to follow her there and take her to drive in the Park before escorting her home. He and Persephone agreed that Charlotte and Miss Radley were
likely to be found together, and they therefore both went on to the Yellow Parlour.

Here, however; they found only the woebegone Charlotte, who rose with a gasp of relief at the sight of Conington and cast herself thankfully into his arms, before remembering the message she had undertaken to deliver to Persephone. She did her best to carry out her instructions, but was not very coherent about it, so that all Persephone could at first gather was that Elinor had gone to meet
Mr.
Royden in her stead. This intelligence caused her to stand perfectly still, her lovely brow rapidly becoming perfectly thunderous in appearance, while she uttered, “Oh, how
could
she? I suppose she meant well, but
why
must I be out today, of all days? How unlucky! When your brother said he could arrange everything, I did not think it would be so soon! But where is he now
—
where is the carriage? I must go!” And suddenly galvanized into motion, she made for the door again.

“No, no, Persephone, you don
’
t understand!” cried Charlotte, tearing herself from Conington
’
s arms and snatching up the two letters from the table “That is,
I
don
’
t perfectly understand either, but it is to do with Grenville
’
s behaving ill in some way
—I
thought, oh, I
feared
so when I read
this,
which I found in his pocket
—
but here, you must read it! You had better read them both!”

It was Conington who took the two sheets of paper from her, spread them out on top of the pianoforte, and then, with one agitated damsel on either side of him, studied them earnestly. Persephone, naturally enough, first turned her attention to her own much-delayed letter from
Mr.
Walter, and read it with dawning comprehension and delight. Her mind, both quicker than Charlotte
’
s and less understandably reluctant to attribute duplicity to
Mr.
Royden, leaped, almost as soon as Elinor
’
s, half-way to Elinor
’
s own conclusion.

“Then it was all a hoax!” she exclaimed. “Oh no! Do you know, Charlotte, your brother told me, and he said it was in
the
strictest
confidence, that he
—
Robert, that is
—
had been obliged to flee London in the greatest haste for pressing financial reasons, so that it was not safe for him to communicate with me directly, but knowing him to be a friend to us, he said Robert had turned to him for help. And he had this letter in his possession all the time! Oh, how could I be so taken in?”

Poor Charlotte, ready to sink, was comforted only by the reassuring pressure of Conington
’
s hand on her shoulder. “I didn
’
t know!” she said faintly. “Oh, Persephone, I am so sorry, but how could I believe it at first, even when I found the letter? Though I could tell there was something wrong, and so I brought it straight here, indeed I did!”

“My dearest, don
’
t distress yourself!” Conington told her. “You did very right.” Since he was in possession of fewer of the facts of the case than the two girls, he was still frowning over the letters. “Sit down, my love, and let Persephone tell us just what passed between your brother and herself.”

Charlotte readily obeyed, and Persephone was composing her thoughts to try to answer Conington
’
s question as best she might, when another person walked into the room, unannounced and quite unexpected. Pausing in the doorway, Sir Edmund said affably, “Good afternoon, Miss Royden, Persephone
—
how d
’
you do, Conington? I
’
m just back in town, and Beale told me most of the family now at home might be found upstairs. Where is Elinor, Persephone? Good God,” he said, surprised, as he took in the nature of the expressions on the startled faces turned towards him, “is something the matter? What has happened?”

At this three mouths opened to pour forth a torrent of disjointed information, but it was Persephone
’
s voice that eventually rose above the rest as she recollected the message from Elinor which Charlotte had delivered, and which it now seemed to her a matter of considerable urgency to impart to her guardian.

“And so you see, ” she finished, “it was
Mr.
Royden
, of all people, who behaved so shabbily to Elinor eight years ago
—
that
must be what she meant, Cousin Edmund, and of course if only I had known, I would never have believed a word he said about anything! But she had not mentioned his name, which I suppose was to spare you, Charlotte, for though I
’
m sorry to speak ill of your brother, and
you
could not help it, all the same
—
”

“Just a moment,” interrupted Sir Edmund grimly. Persephone
’
s revelation made him feel as blazingly angry as Miss Radley herself had been, not so lon
g
before, but the fact showed only in a certain tautness about his mouth. “Let us try to get this st
r
aight, shall we?”

And by dint of some patient questioning, he and Conington eventually more or less achieved this end. “So,” Sir Edmund summed up, “as far as one can tell,
Mr.
Walter went to Germany on perfectly respectable business connected with his career, first writing you a note, Persephone, in which
—
but we won
’
t stop to d
i
scuss its contents now.”

“I should think not, indeed!” said Persephone, with spirit. “It i
s private!”
She had taken belated possession of the document in question, and was regarding it fondly.

“Yes, well: this note, however, never reached you till now, but was intercepted by Royden. Or so we assume from the circumstances in which Charlotte discovered it. I wonder, though, why he kept it so long before approaching you with his kind offers of help, Persephone?”

“I have been wondering the same thing myself,” Conington put in, “and I believe I have the answer. I fancy that this note having fallen into his hands, he may merely have toyed for a while with the thought of what he might do with it
—
after all, he is not entirely a villain,” he remarked to Charlotte, evidently meaning to comfort her. “But the fact is, he suffered some
—
er
—
severe losses at the gaming tables a few nights ago. No, my love, he did not tell you
—
” this to Charlotte
’
s gasp of surprise”
—
but he told
me
, for he applied to me for money. Which, Sir Edmund, having had a word with my future brother-in-law Stead about Royden
’
s proclivities, I declined to lend him, thinking it best to begin as I meant to go on.”

“Wise of you,” agreed Sir Edmund. “But yes, I see your point: it was
his
pressing financial difficulties
—
not
Robert Walter
’
s, Persephone
—
which may well have precipitated his decision to try making reality of something that had, perhaps, been only a fancy before: getting himself a rich wife by hook or by crook! A charming fellow, I must say!”

“If only I had known sooner!” sobbed Charlotte, in her lover
’
s arms.

“Try not to distress her,” Conington begged.

“I
am
trying not to distress her, but by God, I should dearly like to distress her brother!” said Sir Edmund. “Well
meanwhile Miss Radley, better acquainted than any of us with
Mr.
Royden
’
s true character and quite rightly distrusting him, was unaware that he had approached
you
, was she not, Persephone?”

“You see, he told me not to mention it to anyone
—
and I
knew
Elinor did not like him,” Persephone said in a small voice.

“So he managed to hoodwink you into believing that
Mr.
Walter had been obliged to flee his creditors
—
not, you know, something I would have thought a likely circumstance in connection with that young man,” said Sir Edmund thoughtfully, fixing Persephone with his very blue gaze.

She hung her head. “I don
’
t know what Robert will say to me!” she murmured.

“Well,
I
have a very good notion,” said her guardian, “but that
’
s hardly to the purpose now. This communication
—
” he indicated
Mr.
Royden
’
s letter with fastidious distaste, “arose from a previous conversation with you?”

“Yes,” she agreed. “He-he said he had only to make the final arrangements, and then he would transport me to Dover.”

“Which Elinor, with her superior knowledge of him, took to mean
—
or so Charlotte says
—
that he had the intention of abducting you and thus obliging you to marry him, with your family
’
s approbation! Good God, Persephone, you do seem to be adept at creating an aura of melodrama about yourself!”

“It
’
s not
my
fault,” she protested.

“No: you merely infect others with your own liking for such heroics,” said Sir Edmund, more cuttingly than he had meant, for he could see she was upset, and had not intended to let his inclination to blame her distract him from the point at which he was driving. “Very well: so Elinor went out in your place to meet
Mr.
Royden, and tell him his amiable plan was frustrated. No doubt she had some very well chosen words to say to him! We learn from
this
—
” he again indicated the letter
—
“that there was to have been a post-chaise waiting on the corner of Upper Brook Street and Park Lane at five, which is when you, Charlotte, say she went out.
I
saw no such equipage when I came that way twenty minutes ago. It is now nearer six than five o
’
clock.
Where,
then, is Elinor?”

There was a moment
’
s stricken silence as the implications of what he had said sank in, and Sir Edmund looked grimly from one to another of his companions.

“Good God!” said Conington, at last. “Why did we not think of that before? You don
’
t mean, sir
—
can you think it possible that Royden has
—
well, carried off Miss Radley instead of Persephone?”

“Oh
n
o!” moaned poor Charlotte.

“It does look rather like it, doesn
’
t it?” said Sir Edmund. He was making for the doorway as he spoke, but there he was brought up short by an excited threesome chattering to one another in German: Franz, Josef and Johann, all remarkably cheerful, and followed by a rather flustered Beale, who exclaimed, catching sight of Sir Edmund, “Oh, sir, these foreign gentlemen
—
they
would
come up to see Miss Grafton, sir, and really, there was no stopping them!” It was plain that the three young musicians were delighted to see Sir Edmund, that fluent speaker of German; they shook him heartily by the hand, and embarked upon much excited verbiage in their own tongue. Equally plain, to the others present, was the fact that Sir Edmund was barely able to force himself to stay and listen to them for civility
’
s sake. Or perhaps it was also for Persephone
’
s sake, since after a while he cut them short, to communicate to her the drift of what they had been saying

“Well, you may put all Royden
’
s fustian about creditors, and so forth, out of your head,” he told her. “It seems that your friends here have just met with some fellow from the Continent
—
a Flemish flautist, I understand?” A vigorous nod from Franz confirmed this. “Yes, well: a Flemish flautist who is himself acquainted with
Mr.
Walter, and indeed met and conversed with him on his way to Germany last week. He was then bound for the state of Heldenburg, just as he says in his note, where he intended to transact his business with all possible speed
—
again, just as he says there. By your friends
’
reckoning, and given a good passage, he should be back in London at any time now. That is, if he hasn
’
t changed his mind about you, Persephone
—
damned if
I
wouldn
’
t change my mind over a girl as ready as you to believe such stuff,” he added, unchivalrously.

Persephone took surprisingly little offence at this.
“Yes, I
should
have known it was all a hoax,” she agreed. “And I am sure Elinor will say so too. But, Cousin Edmund, where are you going?”