Deborah Goes to Dover (4 page)

‘How,’ said Deborah, pushing the wolfhound off the sofa and sitting down, ‘can any civilized man watch a prize-fight?’

‘When Benjamin won, you were cheering and shouting fit to beat the band,’ pointed out William.

‘I was cheering and shouting with relief. I thought the man would have been killed by Randall. But what an unusual cove of a footman you do have, Miss Pym.’

Hannah reflected that it was a pity the beautiful Lady Deborah chose to speak in the words and accent
of one of her grooms, before replying, ‘Yes, he is very unusual. I do hope he has not decided to take up fighting as a career. Lord William, surely it was wrong of you to allow your sister to attend such an affair and expose her to ridicule.’

‘They would have taken me for a man,’ said Deborah hotly, ‘had not Ashton put those about him wise.’ Hannah’s eyes fell on the roundness of
Deborah’s
excellent bosom. ‘I take leave to differ, my lady,’ she said. ‘You are very much a woman in appearance.’

William grinned. ‘There you are, sis. Hear the lady speak. May as well resign yourself to a Season.’

‘Never!’ said Deborah passionately.

Thoroughly curious now, Hannah said, ‘But may I point out, Lady Deborah, that at your age and with your beauty, I would expect you to be dreaming of beaux and balls.’

‘I never wanted to be a woman,’ said Deborah restlessly. ‘They don’t have no fun, nohow. All primping and simpering and laced into tight corsets and all so that they may catch the eye of some future husband. Pah! Husband? Slave-master, most like. Condemned to a life of breeding brats like a demned rabbit.’

Hannah chewed a caraway cake and eyed Deborah speculatively. Then she said, ‘As plain talking seems to be the order of the day, may I point out that your future seems to me singularly lonely and unpleasant.’

‘How so?’ Deborah, forgetting she was wearing skirts, swung one leg over the end of the sofa.

‘When Lord William marries, his lady may not share your views on her sex; in fact, she might be very shocked. And if Lord William sets up his own establishment, who will you enjoy your freedom with? Surely the men of the county will not wish to hunt and fish and run wild with you? You will be damned as an Original, despised by both sexes.’

‘William will never marry,’ laughed Deborah. ‘Can you see William in the toils of some pretty miss?’

‘Oh, yes,’ said Hannah quietly. ‘Very easily.’

Deborah shifted restlessly. ‘Here we are indoors on a fine day. Let’s do something. What say, William? How can we amuse ourselves and Miss Pym until it is time to return her to Rochester?’

‘Croquet,’ exclaimed William. ‘Just the thing for Miss Pym. Do you play, Miss Pym?’

‘Yes, I do,’ said Hannah. Mrs Clarence, wife of her late employer, had taught the servants to play one sunny day. Hannah could see her now, pretty little Mrs Clarence, her auburn hair glinting in the sunlight and her white muslin gown trailing across the green grass of the croquet lawn at Thornton Hall. And where was Mrs Clarence now; Mrs Clarence who had run off with that footman and left her dour and depressed husband to end the rest of his days in morose solitude?

She wrenched her thoughts back to the present and soon she was out on the lawn at the front of the abbey with the twins. They played several light-hearted games, until the sun began to slant through the tall cypress trees at the edge of the grass.

They were just returning indoors when a carriage came rolling up the drive. The twins exchanged looks of dismay. ‘Ashton!’ they said in unison.

‘Shall we tell Silvers not to admit him?’ suggested William.

Deborah shrugged. ‘Better not. He’ll complain to Papa, and Papa was most odd when he was last home, worrying and fretting about us.’

‘Shall I leave?’ asked Hannah.

‘No, do stay,’ said Deborah. ‘He can’t bluster and rant with you present.’

They returned to the drawing-room, and shortly after they had settled themselves, the Earl of Ashton was announced.

Hannah studied him curiously. At first glance, she would have taken him for a dangerous rake, with his glittering green eyes and midnight-black hair and those odd slanting eyebrows, but responsibilities, not dissipation, she decided, had stamped those lines on either side of his mouth.

He declined any refreshment, shook hands with Hannah, and then sat down after tipping the contents of a chair onto the floor. ‘Now,’ he said, regarding the twins, ‘I received a letter from your father asking me to look in on you and see you were not
misbehaving
yourselves.’ He was, Hannah thought, very much the older man wearily preparing himself to lecture a couple of wayward schoolchildren. ‘As you both will be able to understand, I was appalled to see Lady Deborah at a prize-fight and unsuitably dressed.’

‘You are not our father, nor yet our guardian,’ snapped Lady Deborah. ‘What is it to you?’

‘I am a friend of your father, as you both well know. Were it not for that, I would gladly leave you, Lady Deborah, to become the joke of the county.’ Deborah flushed angrily. ‘I shall keep a constant check on your behaviour, and if there is any repeat of anything like today’s affair, I shall contact your father through our embassy in Constantinople and tell him to return.’

‘You would not do that!’ cried William.

‘Oh, yes, I would. Now, I do not want to sit here lecturing both of you further. I have said what I came to say.’ He turned to Hannah and said with a surprisingly charming smile, ‘You made a gallant attempt to rescue your footman.’

‘Benjamin is a silly boy,’ said Hannah. ‘I only pray he will not be marked for life.’

‘I am curious,’ said the earl. ‘Where did you find such a servant?’

Hannah sat back and told him how she had found Benjamin and of all his adventures. The sun sank lower and the twins forgot their own troubles and listened with all the rapt fascinated interest of children hearing a bedtime story.

‘You are lucky,’ sighed Deborah when she had finished. ‘Nothing exciting like that ever happens to us, does it, William?’

Before her brother could reply, Hannah said, ‘Many would think being an object of ridicule was adventure enough, Lady Deborah.’

Deborah flushed and bit her lip. ‘In fact,’ pursued
Hannah, ‘you look so very charming in women’s clothes, I am amazed you should ever choose to wear anything else.’ She turned to the earl and said severely, ‘As well as condemning Lady Deborah for attending such a spectacle, I find it strange that any civilized gentleman should choose to visit such an affair.’

‘You have the right of it,’ said the earl mildly. ‘It had been years since I went to one, and believe me, it will be a long time before I will ever think of attending another. My tastes are dull and quiet, Miss Pym, and do not run to seeing two men beat each other to death.’

‘I think you are interested in nothing else but moralizing,’ said Lady Deborah. ‘You always were a dull stick, Ashton.’

Hannah stared at Deborah and raised her
eyebrows
. Deborah found herself blushing and added hotly, ‘Why should I not do as I please? I ride and hunt and shoot better than any man I know.’

‘Then you have only met milksops,’ commented the earl acidly.

‘My mare, Harriet, could outrun anything in your stables,’ said Deborah.

He looked at her for a long moment and then said, ‘I think you need to be taught a lesson, Lady Deborah. I shall race you, on the morrow.’

Deborah clapped her hands with glee. ‘Where?’

‘The drive of this abbey, from the lodge to the house. Two miles, is it not?’

‘And what is the wager?’ demanded Deborah.

He eyed her thoughtfully. ‘If you win, I will leave you alone and interfere no more in your lives. Agreed?’

‘Splendid,’ said Deborah. ‘And if I lose … although that will not happen.’

There was a long silence and then his voice fell on their ears, light and amused, ‘If you lose, Lady Deborah, then you will give me a kiss.’

‘Here, I say,’ protested William, ‘what kind of wager is that?’

The earl looked at Deborah, his eyes alight with mockery. ‘Frightened?’ he asked softly.

Deborah tossed her head. ‘Not I.’ She held out a small hand. The earl took it and shook it solemnly. ‘Shall we say eleven o’clock tomorrow morning? And who is to be judge?’

William crowed with laughter. ‘Why, the excellent Miss Pym, o’ course. Those sharp eyes of hers will act as judge and jury. Hey, what say you, Miss Pym?’

‘I should be delighted,’ said Hannah, her eyes gleaming almost as green as the earl’s as they looked from Lady Deborah’s flushed face to the earl’s mocking one.

‘Then I shall take my leave.’ The earl swept them a low bow and left the room.

‘I hope you know what you’re about, Deb,’ said William. ‘He seems pretty confident.’

‘Pooh!’ said Deborah. ‘I shall win, never fear. Now let us get Miss Pym back to that inn of hers.’

By the time they arrived at the Crown, Hannah had decided that Deborah and William were a very good-hearted couple. It was a pity they had been
allowed to run wild. They treated her with a casual friendliness, as if they had known her a very long time. She invited them to supper and they cheerfully agreed. They all sat down round the long inn table. Captain Beltravers was there and Mrs Conningham and her daughter and the three had heard all about the prize-fight but wanted Hannah’s description of it. As Hannah talked, she watched Miss Abigail
Conningham’s
expressive face. The girl did not look quite so plain now. Her eyes, although still rather small, were not puffy anymore and her mousy brown hair had been dressed in quite a pretty style. While she talked, Hannah wondered what it was about going to stay with Uncle in Dover that was so upsetting Miss Conningham. When she had finished, Captain
Beltravers
said, ‘I heard your footman has been carried off in triumph to London.’

Hannah’s heart sank. She would miss Benjamin. She thought sadly that he might have waited just to say goodbye. He was not much use at household chores, but as a bodyguard he was excellent. She would miss his outrageous remarks and clever face.

‘From what you have already told us,’ she realized Lady Deborah was saying, ‘you appear to enjoy journeying on the stage. Why is that, Miss Pym?’

Hannah told them of her legacy, but not that she had been a servant, for Lady Deborah might shrink from her, and Hannah was anxious to see the outcome of the race in the morning. ‘I had led a very quiet life,’ said Hannah, thinking briefly of the dark, dreary days when Mr Clarence had shut up half of
Thornton Hall where she had been housekeeper and when the parties and dinners and entertainments had ceased. ‘I used to watch the Flying Machines going along the Kensington road,’ said Hannah. ‘All that colour and movement flashing by. And I have had such adventures since I began my travels this year.’

‘I wish I could have adventures,’ sighed Deborah.

The captain smiled at her and said gently, ‘Some would say attending a prize-fight dressed in masculine attire was an adventure, Lady Deborah.’

‘I made a mistake,’ said Deborah repressively. ‘I am sorry you heard of it. My escapade is obviously the talk of Rochester.’

‘Do you wear men’s clothes because you wish you were a man?’ asked Abigail and then coloured at her own temerity.

‘Not quite,’ said Deborah. ‘But I envy men their freedom.’

‘Men sometimes envy women,’ said the captain. ‘They do not have to fight wars, they do not have to worry about providing for a family, they are never subjected to danger.’

‘But men can choose whom they marry,’ said Abigail. ‘They are not constrained to marry someone they don’t know, and what is more, don’t want to!’ And with that, she burst into tears and ran from the table, with her scandalized mother hurrying after her.

There was a startled silence after she had left, and then Hannah said slowly, ‘Ah, I think that explains the mystery of Miss Conningham’s distress. At Dover, there is some suitor that has been picked out for her.’

The door of the dining-room opened and Benjamin walked in. He went straight up to Hannah and stood behind her chair.

Hannah’s eyes filled with tears of sheer gladness. ‘I think we would like another bottle of claret,
Benjamin.’

‘Very good, modom,’ said Benjamin and went to fetch the waiter.

Hannah very much wanted the return of Benjamin to pass over quietly, but Deborah and her brother were wildly excited and plied Benjamin with
questions
when he returned with the wine. Had he feared for his life? Was he badly hurt? Benjamin was wearing blanc to cover his bruises, and his hair had been freshly powdered. He replied quietly to all their questions until Hannah, shooting an anxious look up at him, realized he was exhausted and ordered him to bed.

The party broke up, Deborah and William
cheerfully
asking Captain Beltravers to come and see the race. ‘And bring poor little Miss Conningham with you,’ called Deborah over her shoulder as she reached the inn door. The captain flushed slightly and said he would certainly see if she wanted to go. Hannah Pym noticed that tell-tale flush and her mind worked busily. Here was a fine upstanding captain and a young girl who obviously did not want to marry her family’s, or perhaps her uncle’s choice. She did not for a moment consider the possibility of a romance between the Earl of Ashton and Lady Deborah Western.

They were poles apart!

3

Miss Abigail Conningham seemed to have put her troubles aside for the day, as a party consisting of herself, her mother, the captain, Hannah and
Benjamin
set out from the inn on the following morning to travel to Downs Abbey.

The hedges were starred with bird cherry and a pale sun glittered on the incredible green of the new leaves. Benjamin had hired a cabriolet with two sturdy horses and was obviously enjoying acting the part of coachman as they bowled along the leafy lanes where blackbirds and thrushes sang from the high hedges on either side.

Miss Conningham, Hannah noticed, had
embellished
the shoulders of her plain brown gown with knots of tartan ribbon. Hannah, seated next to Mrs Conningham, decided to enliven the short journey by finding out exactly why the lady and her daughter were travelling to Dover. To her first question, Mrs Conningham replied briefly that they were to visit Abigail’s Uncle Henry, her own brother-in-law, a wealthy merchant.

‘Your daughter does not appear to be looking forward to the visit,’ said Hannah.

‘She will come about when she gets there,’ said Mrs Conningham. ‘Young girls have their heads stuffed full of romantic notions. She must do as she is bid.’

‘That being?’ asked Hannah, whose curiosity was mounting by leaps and bounds.

Mrs Conningham looked at her a trifle impatiently and then said reluctantly in a low voice, ‘Uncle Henry, Mr Bentley, that is, has come most timely to my aid. My husband died two years since and we are in straitened circumstances. He wrote to say he had found a husband for Abigail and sent his miniature. A most worthy man by the name of Josiah Clegg, a widower, a trifle old, in his forties, but just the sort of steady influence a girl like Abigail needs.’

‘Rich?’

‘Very.’

‘Ah.’ Hannah sat back and folded her hands on the silver top of her umbrella. Mystery solved. She glanced at the captain, who was pointing out a ruined tower to Abigail. The normally harsh lines of his face
were softer that morning. Definitely early thirties, Hannah decided. Old enough, but not so old as this Mr Clegg.

She returned to the topic. ‘And why does Miss Conningham not favour this Mr Clegg? Does she consider him too old? Or did she take against his miniature?’

‘Both,’ said Abigail’s mother succinctly. ‘She said he looked like a fox.’

‘And does he?’ pursued Hannah. ‘Look like a fox, I mean?’

‘Miss Pym,’ said Mrs Conningham severely, ‘I do not want to spoil this pleasant outing by pulling caps, but I must take leave to tell you that your questions are beginning to border on the impertinent.’

‘I beg your pardon,’ said Hannah earnestly. ‘Let us talk about something else. I confess I am looking forward to this race.’

Mrs Conningham gave an indulgent laugh. ‘Fancy a beautiful lady such as Lady Deborah challenging a gentleman to a horse-race!’Hannah smiled, but thought privately that Mrs Conningham would not be nearly so tolerant if the race were to be ridden by some tavern wench. Obviously Lady Deborah’s rank forgave a lot.

The party arrived at the abbey and were ushered inside and offered spiced ale, ‘to prime them for the great event’, as Lord William put it. Flags had been put up outside the front door of the abbey to mark the finishing line. Hannah was to stand there and decide the winner. The captain and Lord William were to position themselves at the lodge gates to start the race
off. Lady Deborah was wearing a man’s riding-dress with a colourful belcher handkerchief knotted around her throat and a low-crowned wide-brimmed hat on her head. Hannah privately thought she made a dashing figure but Mrs Conningham was very shocked. She had expected Lady Deborah to ride side-saddle. Everyone knew, after all, that riding astride could ruin a young miss’s virginity.

The inn party had arrived early, and so they had at least half an hour to await the arrival of the earl. Hannah took a seat next to Captain Beltravers.

‘Why are you travelling to Dover?’ she asked.

‘To rejoin my regiment, ma’am,’ he said.

‘Have you a wife waiting for you?’

His face darkened. ‘Not any longer. She died.’

‘I am so sorry, so very sorry,’ said Hannah. ‘What happened?’

‘I had a good wife, Mary, and a baby boy,’ he said heavily. ‘Mary was overjoyed to get a “to-go” ticket when I was posted to the Low Countries. I was delighted as well. We would be together. Had I known what it would be like, I would never have let my wife and boy come. Often they had to sleep out in the hard frost with me with only a thin blanket to cover us. Once I found she was missing when we were on the march and went back to look for her. She was sitting exhausted by the roadside with the baby in her arms and all the laundry, still wet from the washing, and the household goods on her back. Not long after that, disaster struck. I had got her a donkey and she and the child were fording a river when the donkey
slipped and threw them both into the icy water. I plunged in and swam downstream after them, but by the time I got them out, both were dead. I went on soldiering. It is all I know. To be frank, ma’am, these long days I do not care much what I do.’

Hannah pressed his hand sympathetically, tears in her eyes. She forgot about trying to make a match between the captain and Abigail. After such a dreadful loss, the captain would probably never entertain any romantic thoughts toward a female again.

She felt very low in spirits and was relieved when the Earl of Ashton was announced. He was accompanied by Mr Peter Carruthers and a young lady who turned out to be Mr Carruthers’s sister, Clarissa. Clarissa was all giggles and bouncing curls and large brown eyes. Deborah flicked her a glance of contempt and then was mortified to see that her brother, William, appeared to be highly entertained by Clarissa.

Deborah’s spirits were further lowered by the slightly amazed looks Clarissa kept throwing in her direction and by the open contempt with which Mr Carruthers viewed her male attire.

‘You can still change your mind,’ mocked the earl.

Deborah flushed angrily. ‘And so may you, sir. I have no fear. I will beat you fair and square.’

‘We will see,’ he said, his green eyes glinting. Clarissa came up to him and handed him a little lace handkerchief. ‘What is this?’ he asked, looking
indulgently
down at her.

‘My favour,’ said Clarissa with a trill of laughter. ‘Like the knights of old. You must put it in your hat.’

‘Gladly,’ he said, taking it from her.

‘Yes, you will need all the help you can get,’ commented Deborah waspishly. Clarissa looked at her in round-eyed fright and edged behind the earl for protection, rather like a child going behind its mother’s skirts.

William joined them and held out his arm to Clarissa. ‘Will you do me the honour of coming with me to start the race?’

Clarissa smiled up at him, eyes dancing, curls bobbing, and gave a little skip. ‘I should like that above all things,’ she said.

The earl regarded the couple thoughtfully as they moved off, talking animatedly. He turned back to Deborah. ‘Most suitable,’ he remarked.

‘What is?’ she demanded angrily, although she knew very well what he meant.

‘Why, Miss Carruthers and Lord William, to be sure. I would say they were eminently suited.’

Deborah was outraged to hear her fears put into words. ‘William and that silly little miss!’ she
sputtered.
‘He prefers the company of his sister above all other females, let me tell you.’

‘He cannot fall in love with his sister,’ said the earl acidly, his eyes raking up and down her riding-dress. ‘Nor will any man fall in love with you, Lady Deborah, if you persist in looking like a boy.’

Deborah went quite white with anger. ‘You are trying to put me in a passion so that I may ride badly and lose the race.’

‘Not I,’ said the earl lazily. ‘As a good friend of your
father, my remarks were prompted by concern for your future, that is all. Are you ready?’

‘I am ready,’ said Deborah in a thin voice.

Outside, he studied her mare, Harriet, with an appraising eye. ‘Fine beast,’ he said.

‘And she goes like the wind,’ crowed Deborah.

Her eyes fell on the earl’s horse, which a groom was just bringing up, and she felt a pang of unease. It was a coal-black stallion, an Arab, with a small proud head.

They both mounted and cantered easily down the long drive to the lodge gates.

William and Clarissa were already there and so were the captain and Abigail, William having driven them all in an open carriage to the start of the race.

Hannah and Mr Carruthers, surrounded by the abbey servants, took up their position at the finishing line, which was marked by frivolous lilac silk ribbon tied between two flags.

She did so hope Lady Deborah would lose. She was a fine good-hearted girl but needed to be taught a lesson. ‘But why?’ thought Hannah, suddenly and rebelliously. In this age when women were confined by modes and manners as tight as their stays, it was refreshing to meet a young miss who rose free of them all. But that freedom would lead to spinsterhood and a childless existence, and Hannah, who suffered from both these curses, did not want any other female to bear them. In her few darker moments, Hannah often dreamt of the children she would like to have had. She was joined by Mrs Conningham who remarked acridly that she would be glad when this nonsense was
over. ‘Is Miss Conningham your only child?’ asked Hannah.

‘I have eight others,’ said Mrs Conningham
repressively,
‘and so you see, it is important that Abigail marries well.’

How unromantic this business of marriage was, thought Hannah with a sigh.

Down at the end of the drive, the riders were ready. Deborah’s blue eyes were flashing with excitement. She was so sure of winning that she had lost all nervousness. Had she not outridden every man in the county on the hunting field?

William, with Clarissa beside him, held up a large handkerchief. ‘Ready?’ he called, and both riders nodded. He brought the large handkerchief down with a great sweep. Clarissa squealed with excitement and the earl and Deborah set off like the wind. At first they were neck and neck and then, to Deborah’s horror, with almost contemptuous ease, the earl spurred his horse and began to move ahead of her, almost as if he had been previously holding his great horse in check.

His horse surged forward, black muscles rippling along its flanks.

Hannah watched the earl come thundering up. His horse broke through the lightly tied ribbon, swept round in front of the abbey and then he reined it in and came riding slowly back. Deborah, who, seeing that the race was lost, had slowed her mount, was at the finishing line, her face tight and set.

‘A good race, my lord,’ she called. ‘What a magnificent beast.’

He swung himself lightly down from the saddle and walked over to her and put a hand on her stirrup and looked up at her. ‘I claim my bet,’ he said.

‘A bet!’ cried Mr Carruthers. ‘Have you lost much money, Lady Deborah?’

‘Only a kiss,’ said the earl lightly.

William and his party came driving up, William looking sympathetically at his sister’s set face. ‘If you’re going to claim your bet, Ashton,’ called William to the earl, who had walked a few steps away to talk to Mr Carruthers, ‘I suggest you take Deb into the house. Servants watching, don’t you know.’

Deborah dismounted. The earl came back to her and held out his arm. She took it gingerly and he led her toward the house.

‘Hope she throws everything in the room at his head,’ said William.

The earl stood with Deborah in the hall. He put his hands lightly on her shoulders. ‘Afraid?’ he asked softly.

‘Not I,’ said Deborah, throwing back her head. ‘Get on with it.’

He bent his head to place a fleeting kiss on her mouth. But as soon as his lips touched hers, he felt just as if he had received an electric shock from one of Dr Galvani’s machines. He buried his lips deeper in hers and wrapped his arms tightly about her. His long fingers buried themselves in her shining curls. And Deborah stood unresisting in his arms, unable to do anything other than return his kiss.

He finally raised his head and looked down at her. ‘Well,’ he said shakily. ‘Well …’

Deborah backed slowly away from him, one hand to her mouth, her eyes wide and blank. ‘I must change,’ she said huskily and ran from him up the wide staircase, her spurs jingling. He stood in the hall, shaking his head slowly as though to clear it. Then he remembered the others were waiting tactfully outside and went to tell them the wager had been claimed.

William, who would normally have been worried about his sister, was too taken up with the charms of Miss Carruthers and too depressed at her news that she was returning to London in the morning. ‘Where are you staying?’ asked William.

‘With the Chumleys on the other side of Rochester.’

‘And in London?’

‘With my parents in Green Street.’

William took a deep breath. ‘I shall be going to London shortly,’ he said. ‘May I call on you?’