Finessing Clarissa (8 page)

‘Sir Jason Pym. He was at Oxford with me, and a very shy, quiet young fellow he was, too. Now he is very
mondaine
and appears wealthy, whereas he was miserably poor at Oxford.’

‘How came he by his knighthood?’

‘Quite shockingly. Our Prince Regent has always had a penchant for older women and . . . or so the gossip goes . . . became enamoured of a respectable widow in Brighton some time ago. The widow would not take her quittance when the prince tired of her and threatened all sorts of scandals. She said she was expecting his child. She threatened to broadcast her plight in the newspapers. The prince was at his wit’s end. She refused to accept money. She said he had deliberately seduced her and must recognize the baby when it was born as his own. Every pressure, was brought to bear on her, including threats, but she was immovable. Onto the scene came Jason. He got the prince’s ear and said he could settle the matter. Grateful prince fell on his neck and promised him the earth if only this troublesome woman could be silenced.

‘Lo and behold! Jason was successful. To everyone’s surprise, the lady caved in and even accepted quite a modest sum for her silence. Jason was dubbed Sir Jason and found princely favour.’

‘And what became of the widow?’

‘Alas, her body was found on Brighton beach. It was assumed she had committed suicide.’

‘Assumed?’

The earl sighed. ‘Of course when anyone gets close to the prince, there is always venomous gossip flying around, but a quite respectable source seemed to feel obliged to warn me this very afternoon that it had been whispered that before the prince even became involved with this widow that the widow had been seen in Jason’s company, don’t you see.’

‘I don’t quite . . .’

‘Some nasty people began to hint that Jason had plotted with the woman to ensnare the prince and Jason had orchestrated her subsequent threats to expose the affair. It was even hinted he himself had promised to marry the widow if she did what he told her. Worst of all, it was rumoured that after receiving his knighthood, he killed the widow.’

‘You must not let such a creature near your half-sister!’

‘I have not seen Bella since I heard this worst piece of gossip, but I had already explained to her I did not approve of him. We have only just arrived in London, but he was our first caller. He paid me a visit in the country and I have a feeling he and Bella have been exchanging letters ever since.’

‘Perhaps you should not have told her you did not approve of him,’ said Clarissa thoughtfully. ‘Did you tell her about the widow? I mean, not about him being suspected of murder, for you have only just learned that, but about his intimacy with her?’

‘No, I simply said that Jason was a dangerous rake and to be avoided.’

‘And so made him seem attractive,’ said Clarissa.

‘You have the right of it. I had better tell her about the widow.’

‘She will probably not believe you now, you know. She will think you are making it up. You really must encourage Bella to see as much of him as possible. If she is as fickle as you say, then she will soon tire of him. Forbidden fruit is always attractive.’

‘How wise, Miss Vevian. Do you find forbidden fruit attractive?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Clarissa candidly. ‘No one has ever offered me any.’

‘I hope they never do. All the same, I do not think I can allow Bella to spend any time at all in the company of a man who
may very
well be a murderer. Perhaps I should see Jason in private and tell him I forbid him to call. Now what have you been doing in London?’

‘Schooling,’ said Clarissa dismally. ‘Nothing but schooling.’

‘I thought you were past that age.’

‘I am to be polished, like silver, in time for the Season. I am rubbed this way by the Italian tutor and that way by the dancing master and then buffed by various other gentlemen, but they can’t seem to get a shine on me.’

‘Perhaps because they do not recognize solid gold when they see it.’

‘What a pretty thing to say! But then, I am sure you have had lots of practice.’

‘Not I, I swear. The Pomfreys hold a ball next week. Do you attend?’

‘I fear not. We do not go out in the evenings.’

‘This is very naughty of the Tribbles. They are being paid to bring you out, not keep you in.’

‘Perhaps they do not consider me ready yet.’

‘Then I must persuade them. If the weather holds good, will you allow me to drive you tomorrow?’

‘Yes,’ said Clarissa, suddenly shy.

‘I shall call for you at five.’

‘I must have permission.’

‘The Tribbles will be delighted to allow you to go. I am a great catch.’

Clarissa looked thoughtfully at the fire. One little strand of pink silk hung over the charred remains of her work-basket. As she watched, it shrivelled up into black ash. ‘That does sound a trifle vain, my lord.’

‘Not in the slightest. I only speak the truth. It is nothing to do with my looks or talent, Miss Vevian, but everything to do with my title and fortune.’

‘I do not have a title,’ said Clarissa in a small voice, ‘but I am an honourable and I do have a large fortune. I am not, however, beset with suitors.’

‘What? Are all the Bath beaux so blind?’

‘How flattering you are! Not blind. Merely anxious to stay alive a little bit longer. You see, it appears I am not only clumsy but dangerously so.’

‘You are very young,’ he said in a gentle voice. ‘I used to be very nervous in society when I was your age. I shall never forget going to court for the first time. I fell over my sword.’

‘Yes, but you did not stab anyone to death with it.’

‘Come, Miss Vevian, I am sure you have not killed anyone.’

‘Not yet,’ said Clarissa gloomily.

‘I must take my leave,’ he said, getting to his feet. He bowed to the company, obtained permission from the delighted Tribbles to take Clarissa driving, and bowed his way out.

‘Well,’ began Effy and then squawked as Amy gave her a surreptitious kick. ‘Don’t refine too much on it,’ muttered Amy, ‘or you’ll get her in a flutter and she might break something.’

Clarissa made her excuses and went up to her room. Her heart was beating hard. A handsome man was to take her out, not just any ordinary handsome man at that, but the Catch of the Season. Hubbard undressed her for bed, running around her, pulling tapes free, looking like a bad-tempered villager who did not want to dance round the maypole.

‘I can do the rest, Hubbard,’ said Clarissa, coming out of a dream. ‘I wonder if Miss Yvette will have any of my clothes ready.’

‘A disgrace, that’s what it is,’ grumbled Hubbard. ‘A woman in her condition ought to have been turned out in the streets where she belongs. But that’s the French for you.’

‘And that’s a lack of Christian compassion for you,’ snapped Clarissa, who had grown quite fond of the French dressmaker. ‘Be off with you, Hubbard, and say your prayers.’

Clarissa was so excited, she thought she would not be able to sleep, but she soon plunged down into the depths of a pleasant dream where she was dancing at Almack’s and everyone was exclaiming at the intricacy and style of her steps.

In her dream, the quadrille finished and she saw the Earl of Greystone approaching her. He had a smile in his eyes. He held out his hand. She went to take it, but a little fluffy miss with bobbing curls and big blue eyes moved in front of her. The earl’s arm encircled the fluffy miss’s waist and they moved off together.

Somewhere in the depths of her dream, Clarissa told herself it was only a dream and that she ought to wake up. She opened her eyes and looked bleakly up at the ceiling. She remembered that fluffy creature. Her name had been Chloris Deveney. Clarissa had been sent to a seminary in Bath for a year but had only lasted a few months. She had insisted on having a bath and had gone to sleep in it. She had had a nightmare and had rolled out of the tin bath, upsetting the contents onto the floor, and water had seeped down and ruined the ceiling of the assembly room underneath. Chloris had been at the seminary at the same time. She was everything Clarissa was not, small and dainty and deft.

Clarissa was brought abruptly back to the present by the feeling that there was someone in her room. At first she only sensed a presence. Then she wrinkled her nose. There was a faint smell of patchouli. Then she heard the creak of a floorboard and quick shallow breathing.

‘Who’s there?’ she cried, starting up.

There was a little gasp and then the soft opening and closing of the door.

‘Help!’ shouted Clarissa at the top of her voice. She climbed from the bed and lit a branch of candles with a spill which she thrust between the bars of the still-glowing fire.

She looked wildly about. Everything was in its place. Nothing had been disturbed.

The door opened and Amy erupted into the room, clad in a voluminous nightgown. Effy appeared behind her, her head covered in curl-papers.

‘There was someone in my room,’ said Clarissa.

‘You must have been dreaming,’ said Amy crossly. ‘Who would want to come into your room?’

‘I don’t know. But there was definitely someone here,’ said Clarissa stubbornly.

‘Is anything the matter?’ came Harris the butler’s voice from the passage outside.

Amy turned round. ‘Miss Vevian claims there was someone in her room.’

‘No one could have got into the house,’ said Harris. ‘With so many burglaries, I go round each night before retiring and check that everything is locked and bolted.’

‘Then it must have been one of the servants,’ exclaimed Clarissa.

‘I cannot believe that,’ said Harris firmly. ‘We have a new housekeeper, Mrs Loomis, who came with excellent references. Apart from that, there are no new servants, and each one is highly respectable. After that business with Frank, I made it my job to check out all references personally.’

Frank, an over-ambitious footman, had left them after trying to stir up rebellion in the servants’ hall.

‘You are tired, Miss Vevian,’ said Amy firmly. ‘Go back to sleep. I shall go round with Harris and make sure that everything is secure.’

Left on her own again, Clarissa paced up and down. Then she went and locked her door before climbing into bed. It had not been a dream, of that she was sure.

But when she awoke next morning to see the sun streaming in the window, the events of the night before seemed unreal. The day was fine and a handsome man was to take her driving. She hoped Yvette had at least one gown ready!

The sky is glowing in one ruddy sheet;
A cry of fire! resounds from door to door;
And westward still the thronging people pour;
The turncock hastens to F. P. six feet,
And quick unlocks the fountains of the street;
With rumbling engines, with increasing roar,
Thunder along to luckless Number Four.

Thomas Hood

Bella and her mother were companionably drinking tea and eating toast. Angela often boasted they were more like sisters than mother and daughter. ‘And have you heard from Sir Jason?’ asked Angela.

‘He is to call today,’ Bella pouted. ‘He sent such delicious letters that my poor heart was quite aflutter, but I confess when I actually clapped eyes on him again, he seemed a sorry creature. What do we do this evening?’

‘Nothing,’ said Angela with a shrug. ‘We have many invitations for the next few weeks but nothing for the immediate present. Where is Crispin?’

‘He’s gone out, or so the servants tell me.’ The butler entered and handed Bella a letter. ‘This came by hand, my lady,’ he said.

‘Bound to be something boring,’ said Bella, crackling open the seal. ‘Dear me, it is from Sir Jason. What does he say?’ Her eyes rapidly scanned the page and then she threw the letter down. ‘Well, Mama, if this isn’t the outside of enough!’

‘What is wrong?’

‘My half-brother, Crispin, has taken it on himself to call on poor Sir Jason this morning and to tell him to stay away from me in future! How dare he! You must speak to him, Mama.’

‘Well, to be sure, it is all very
dégoûtant, ma chérie.
But you was just saying as how you were tired of the creature.’

‘I shall make up my own mind as to whom I shall see or not see.’

Angela sighed. ‘It’s of no use arguing with Crispin.’

‘No,’ said Bella slowly. ‘But I shall do as I please.’

‘Oh, do not do anything to antagonize Crispin. He does hold the purse-strings, you know.’

‘Pooh! His disapproval has quite reanimated my affections towards Sir Jason.’

‘I hear that Vevian creature is in town. She is one of the Tribbles’ bad ladies.’

‘Who are the Tribbles and what have they to do with bad ladies?’

‘They advertise in a most vulgar way. They sponsor young females of good
ton
at the Season, femaleswho have hitherto proved difficult to puff off.’

‘And what is Miss Vevian’s deep dark secret?’

‘I had it from that Mrs Deveney we met in Portugal Street yesterday evening when we went out to take the air. Was you not attending?’

‘No, she seemed a tiresome gossip.’

‘Well, her daughter, Chloris, attended a seminary in Bath and this Clarissa Vevian was there at the same time. Mrs Deveney says she is so clumsy, she is a walking threat to any who come nigh.’