The Love Child (38 page)

“It is something that will never be forgotten.”

“My dear Priscilla, you are behind the times. Men fight duels one day and forget it in a week or so. It was a bit of high spirits on his part.”

“He almost succeeded in taking me away. If he had…”

“But Leigh was there. That was so romantic. Leigh saved you and then went round and there was trouble. Yes, I do remember it well. All Venice was talking about it.”

“I don’t want to know him.”

“So that’s why you were so cold … and really quite discourteous, I thought. After all, he was offering to help.”

“Harriet, I don’t like the man. I don’t want him in this house.”

“We had to ask him in after what he did.”

“Well, let’s hope that this is the end of it and we don’t have to see him again.”

“He seemed so eager to please, and you must admit he did help with the apothecary.”

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“We could have managed without him.”

“Oh, Priscilla, you really are holding this prank against him, are you not?”

I wanted to shout at her: If you knew everything you would understand.

I almost told her, yet I could not bring myself to speak of it. If she knew she would readily understand why I never wanted to see him again.

Carlotta burst in on us. She was carrying the fan she had seen on the Exchange stall and waving it before our eyes.

“You have been out to get it,” I cried. “Oh, Carlotta, you must not go out alone.”

She shook her head. “Three guesses. Now how did I come by this beautiful fan?”

“Gregory went out and bought it for you,” said Harriet. “That man spoils you.”

“Wrong,” she retorted. “Try again. Not Gregory but…”

She was flourishing a note in her hand. Harriet snatched it from her.

She read:

I did not like to think of your losing the fan, so I crept back and bought it. Do please accept it. E.G.

I wanted to shout at them both. I wanted to say: It must be sent back. We want nothing from this man, not even a trifle such as this.

“A charming gesture,” said Harriet.

“It was so thoughtful of him,” added Carlotta.

“I think he is a very charming man,” added Harriet, almost defiantly.

I was filled with foreboding.

242The Elopement

For the next few days I could not go out. On the morning following our visit to the Exchange my ankle was very swollen and Gregory said I should see a doctor. He called one in and the verdict was the same as that of the apothecary. I must rest it and in a few days I should be able to walk on it.

I felt frustrated. Fervently I wished that we had not come to London. Gregory and Harriet took Carlotta to Mulberry Gardens one afternoon so that she should not be disappointed. They took her to Spring Gardens one evening where they supped. Carlotta came in to tell me all about it, her eyes sparkling with the wonder of it all. They had walked through the gardens where they had eaten a collation of fish and venison pie followed by tarts and syllabub; and with it they had drunk a fine muscatel wine.

They had watched the masked ladies parading through the paths and the gallants who had pursued them. Harriet had declared that it was nothing compared with what it had been hi the days of Charles when people knew better how to enjoy life. But they had seen some of the players from the theatre walking there, and Carlotta had enjoyed it greatly.

I would wait breathlessly for some mention of Beaumont Granville, for I had a notion that he would not allow the acquaintance to

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peter out. I was sure that he was bent on some mischief, and those days when I lay on my bed resting my foot, or sat at the window watching people pass by, were for me filled with frustration and fear.

As the days went on I began to think that I had perhaps attached too much importance to the matter. After all, what had happened was no credit to him. Perhaps he wanted to forget it too.

Yet he had looked at me with that sly mockery which had set the fear rising in my heart. I must hope that he had forgotten, and I would suggest that we return to Eversleigh sooner than we had planned.

At length I was able to hobble about, but I still had to take care, and Harriet suggested that a visit to the theatre would not be too taxing and this was arranged.

“After all,” she said, “you only have to walk to the carriage and then from it into the theatre.”

It seemed a good idea and I was glad to be able to get about. I had said nothing more about Beaumont Granville and I presumed the incident had been forgotten.

It was always exciting to be in a theatre-particularly with Harriet, who knew so much about it, having, of course, once been a player herself. The play was William Wycherley’s The Country Wife, which even Harriet had never seen, and I felt my spirits rising.

We had a box near the stage and Carlotta was chattering rapidly, asking questions of Harriet as to who was that and who was this, which delighted Harriet, though she admitted she had been stagnating in the country for far too long.

“We really must come to Town more often, Gregory,” she said.

“Oh, yes, please, we must,” cried Carlotta.

The smell of orange peel was strong in the air; it mingled with the apothecaries’

scents and the less pleasing odours of humanity. It was all part of this somewhat unreal but intriguing world of the theatre. The orange girls proffered their fruit to the young men in the pit who were clearly, and not very successfully, aping the nobility and doubtless making assignations. There was a great deal of giggling and general noise until some elegant lady, masked and accompanied by an exquisite dandy, entered one of the boxes. Then there would be a brief silence while the company studied her in awed curiosity.

The play began. It was quite amusing and I felt better than I had since I had seen Beaumont Granville. Perhaps I had exaggerated, I told myself. It was just a passing encounter. What could he want with me now? I was no longer the young girl I had been when he had cast his lecherous eyes on me. Moreover, he had not made any effort to renew the acquaintance. It was just that initial shock which had un-244

nerved me and that, having led to this silly accident, had made me feel that trouble was looming.

Then suddenly I noticed that Carlotta’s attention was not on the stage. She was gazing at the box opposite, which a short while before had been empty.

It had an occupant now. At first I thought I was imagining this. He had been so much in my thoughts. But there was no doubt. Of course it was Beaumont Granville. He had come late to the play and there he was smiling at Carlotta. My fears were intensified.

He looked strikingly handsome. He certainly lived up to his name. He was dressed in the latest fashion. His square-cut coat of thick silk material was braided across the front in many rows and the buttons were rubies. He wore one of the very fashionable wigs which I had noticed since coming to London. They were profusely curled and heavily scented. The curls fell about his shoulders, almost obscuring the most elegant of white silk cravats. The air of worldliness, cornbined with that Grecian perfection of feature, showed the world that he was a man who would have few rivals for good looks.

I would have preferred to see the ugliest man possible sitting in that box instead of that exquisite dandy.

I glanced at Harriet. She had seen him, too. I was aware of the smile at the corner of her lips.

Suddenly I knew. They had told him we were coming to the theatre and he was there to see us, to torment me as he was well aware he did, to amuse himself with what to him would seem a piquant situation.

I had ceased to concentrate on the play. I was only aware of the secret looks which crossed between my party and him.

I gave no sign-at least I hoped I did not-that I had seen him. I tried to keep my eyes on the stage and pretend to be absorbed by the action; but I could not have told anyone, had they asked me, what the play was about.

After the first act he came to our box.

“What a delightful surprise!” He was bowing over our hands, his manners matching his appearance.

I realized by the looks exchanged between him and Carlotta that it was no surprise; it was an arrangement between them.

Oh, my God, I thought, what does this mean?

“I am hoping,” he was saying, “that you are going to sup with me after the play.”

“What a lovely idea!” cried Carlotta.

“That would be delightful,” said Harriet. “How kind of you! One 245

should always sup in good company after the play. One of the delights of playgoing is to pick the piece apart afterwards. Don’t you agree?”

“I do with all my heart,” said Beaumont Granville. “Would you care to sup at my place or go somewhere else?”

“I really think we should decline this kind invitation,” I said.

They were all looking at me. He was forcing an expression of concern onto his face, although trying not to show that he was suppressing amusement.

“It is my first outing,” I stammered. “I really feel…”

It sounded so hideously selfish. Because I wanted to go home I was stopping their pleasure.

Gregory, always kind, said: “I’ll take you back if you like, Priscilla.”

They were all looking at me and I thought: No, if they are going to be with him, I must be there to see what happens. I could sense the situation becoming more and more dangerous.

“We will cheer you up,” said Beaumont Granville, looking at me pleadingly. “I have a very fine malmsey wine which I should like you to try. Do come. The company will be incomplete without you.”

“You will certainly not be able to refuse an invitation so graciously given,” said Harriet.

“You must not!” cried Carlotta passionately.

“Ah,” put in Beaumont Granville, “I believe she is wavering.”

“It is good of you all to be so concerned whether I come or not.”

“Then it is decided,” said Beaumont Granville. He sat down and we started to discuss the play. When the interval was over he returned to his box, but I was aware that throughout the play he was watching us.

There was some diabolical scheme working in his mind.

He shepherded us out of the theatre, through the crowds to our coach. He had sent his home and said he would share ours if we would permit it. I noticed how people made way for him; some called a greeting. He was clearly well known and many were hi awe of him. He had an air of importance which I could see had aroused Carlotta’s admiration. In fact I was beginning to realize that Carlotta’s admiration was great and that he very much enjoyed this.

His house was only a short distance from ours.

“See what near neighbours we are!” he said. “A town house is so necessary. I have an estate near Dorchester, but I confess I spend more time in London than in the country.”

“I have never been to Dorchester,” said Carlotta.

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“I hope to change that one day,” he answered.

The house was furnished in a manner to be expected of one with such elegant tastes and he was clearly proud of it.

Supper was ready for us, which showed he had had no doubt of our accepting his invitation.

His servants waited on us silently and efficiently. The malmsey was indeed excellent, and so was the food, and I could see that he enjoyed playing host.

He spoke of the play and the players knowledgeably, and he and Harriet were engaged in spirited conversation.

Carlotta listened, hardly ever taking her eyes from his face. Now and then he would look at her and smile tenderly. I was stricken with horror. This was the ultimate nightmare. I could not believe it. She was giving him that kind of hero worship which young girls sometimes feel for older men.

It could not really be what I feared. He must be over thirty years older than she was. My imagination was in a fever. I was suffering from some form of hallucination.

I said: “You have a very fine establishment here, sir. Is your wife in the country?”

He turned his false smile on me. “I have no wife. No, I have never married. I have been too much of a romantic.”

“Oh, is that so? I should have thought your romantic ideals might have led you to marriage.”

“I suppose I was always looking for the perfect woman. Nothing less would suit me.”

“Then it is not to be wondered at that your search was fruitless,” put in Harriet.

“I am not disturbed that life may have passed me by.” He was looking at Carlotta now. “I think my good angel was preserving me. Do you know, it is a belief of mine that if you want something and are determined to get it, and will not allow yourself to be diverged from the main object, it comes to you in time. I am not old yet. In fact I feel fresher and more vigorous than I did in my extreme youth. No, dear ladies, I do not despair.”

“You have travelled a great deal?” I asked.

“I have seen much of the world. But having seen it I want most of all to settle down here in England … living my life between this city and Dorset. A little of the country is good now and then. It makes you appreciate how much more invigorating is life in the town.”

“Oh, I do agree,” said Carlotta. “I wish we could come to London more often.”

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“Perhaps you will … now that you are becoming a young lady of fashion.”

She laughed. “Oh, do you really think I am that!”

“In the very best sense. I deplore those people who follow a fashion slavishly, particularly if it is ridiculous and does not suit them.” He had turned his admiring gaze on Carlotta.

“You are too young to remember the hideous manner in which women wore their hair in Charles’s time. How they could endure those little rows of curls on the brow I cannot understand. Creve coeurs, they called them. Heartbreakers! At least that’s what I suppose they meant. Surely there was little less designed to keep a man’s heart intact. I like to see ladies follow their own styles, as you all do so admirably, and not become slaves to the mode of the moment.”

“The lady we saw in the Mulberry Gardens … do you remember?” Carlotta was smiling at him. “She really did look ridiculous.”

“She had so many patches that they looked like a heavenly constellation,” he replied.