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Authors: Patricia Wynn

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BOOK: The Spider's Touch
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That seemed to put him in mind of the fright he had taken earlier in the week. His parting orders for his wife were to be careful who she was seen with. The Committee had not yet delivered its report, but would after the King’s return.

He was no sooner gone than Isabella announced her intention of going out in the evening, and of taking Hester with her. It was the privilege of a married lady to go wherever she liked, unescorted by either mother or husband, but that night would be the first that Isabella exercised her new rights.

A pair of footmen were all the protection they needed as, later, they wandered from one friend’s tea table to another’s drawing-room. But, finding nothing to hold her interest at the first house, where the company discussed the latest play, or at the second, where Mr. Pope was roundly criticized for taking on the translation of Homer, Isabella said that they would drop by Lady Oglethorpe’s.

In vain, Hester reminded her that Harrowby wanted her to exercise exceptional prudence in her choice of companions. Lady Oglethorpe’s invitation had promised the sort of entertainment that Isabella particularly liked. And she shrugged off her husband’s concern with the argument that several of their most intimate friends knew and visited Lady Oglethorpe. Hester suspected that she was thinking of Lord Lovett in particular, for they had not seen him at all that week. And her uneasiness encompassed the worry that Harrowby’s absense would give Isabella a chance to advance her flirtation with that gentleman, whose handsome ways many ladies would find hard to resist.

But to try to dissuade Isabella from indulging her desires was fruitless, and Hester soon found herself being handed down from the Hawkhurst carriage in the Palace Yard.

Their hostess greeted them with delight. In her withdrawing room, they found some of the friends Isabella had alluded to, Sir Humphrey and Colonel Potter among them. Lord Lovett, however, was not there. Sir Humphrey whispered that their friend had been called away to Kensington to conduct some business for a relative, but that he had promised to see them at Isabella’s card party that week. Isabella would have pouted and left, if Lady Oglethorpe had not presented another gentleman, a man dressed in exceptional finery with a very fine periwig.

Despite a rather unprepossessing name, Blackwell, he had the decided manner of a courtier. A quantity of lace at his throat, a coat and vest embroidered with flowers and birds in the palest of shades, and a slightly foreign air suggested that he had just arrived from the Continent. His luxurious blond peruke had to have come from France. He had large, rather flattened features, and hazel eyes that held no warmth. His interest in Isabella increased the moment that Lady Oglethorpe told him her title.

“And Lord Hawkhurst?” he inquired, as he bent to kiss her hand. “He is with you this evening, I hope?”

“No, my husband has gone to Guilford with the King. To see the horse matches.”

“And left his pretty, young lady all alone? One hopes that he will not learn to regret such a serious neglect.” The compliment was delivered with the appropriate smile. Nevertheless, Hester got the feeling that the gentleman’s keenness had waned as soon as he had learned Harrowby’s whereabouts. She doubted she would have to worry that this gentleman would try to lead Isabella astray, but she wondered what his interest in Harrowby was. Most likely he was searching for a patron like everyone else.

Colonel Potter, who was still waiting to hear whether Harrowby would engage him as his secretary, came over to join them. Since asking for the position, he had not missed a single one of Harrowby’s levées.

“I trust his lordship will not deprive us of his company for long?”

Before Isabella could answer, Sir Humphrey piped up, “I hope not, too. Lovett and I have taken a box for the opera on Saturday, and we are counting on all of you to come. We’ve taken a box on the stage—though I’ve read that none of the audience will be permitted to set foot upon it, what with all the moving scenery and machines. It sounds quite the spectacle. You must join us, Potter. Lady Oglethorpe has had to refuse me, but you would be very welcome in her place, Blackwell.”

Sir Humphrey issued this last invitation with the geniality that was so much a part of his nature.

Both gentlemen accepted; however, Hester noticed a moment’s hesitation on Mr. Blackwell’s part. A pointed look from Lady Oglethorpe appeared to decide him. Her commanding gaze moved from Isabella’s face back to his, before he said, with scarcely concealed annoyance, “I should not waste so imminent a chance of meeting my Lord Hawkhurst, I suppose.” He flashed Lady Oglethorpe a venomous smile. “If he is
not
to be met with here, where one might have hoped to have seen him, then a greater effort will obviously be called for.”

He made no efforts to charm Isabella, other than an attempt to conceal his immense boredom. This failed, however, where both Isabella and her cousin were concerned. Isabella required more flirting in her entertainment, and Hester could only ponder the motive of a gentleman who expressed a wish to know another, when that wish was obviously not his. She was certain that Lady Oglethorpe had forced Mr. Blackwell’s hand or else he would not have accepted Sir Humphrey’s invitation.

Colonel Potter took advantage of Isabella’s presence to press his suit. He told her of the services he had performed for his superior officers in the Foot-Guards.

Hester said, “I read that the King is to review your regiment next week in Hyde Park. You must be very busy with the preparations.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, she sensed that she had said something wrong. Colonel Potter appeared discomfited. He recoiled, like a horse resisting the halter.

“He’s not that busy now,” Sir Humphrey said in the uneasy silence. “Poor Potter’s been dismissed. He was replaced along with a number of our friends. Just got his letter this week.”

Colonel Potter could not hide his annoyance. He nearly rounded on Sir Humphrey, before Isabella exclaimed, “Poor man! Well, you must come to work for my husband, then. A handsome gentleman will always be welcome at Hawkhurst House.”

Colonel Potter had to restrain his temper to bow in her direction. “My lady is generous, but I hope that Lord Hawkhurst can be brought to make a decision in my favour soon. I am not a man to be idle. I must have employment.”

Isabella assured him of Harrowby’s complete willingness to accede to her wishes, making it clear what those would be. Hester used the moment to ask Sir Humphrey if he knew the reason the Colonel had lost his commission. James Henry would want to know if Harrowby was about to engage a man under disgrace.

It was easy to turn Sir Humphrey aside for a private word. He was a gentleman easily led, and he seldom, if ever, appeared to have a fixed object in mind. His temper was congenial to a fault, for he seemed completely unaware that his friend’s confidence had been breached.

“Why were Colonel Potter and the other officers you spoke of dismissed?”

The baronet assumed a knowing expression. “They are
Tories
, don’t ye know. The King has seen what is coming. He thinks if he makes all his officers Whigs, then he won’t have anything to worry about. But he’s wrong, of course.” This last, and most treasonous of statements, was said in an offhand tone.

Amazed that Sir Humphrey could speak so casually of rebellion, Hester threw a nervous look over her shoulder and found that not only was Colonel Potter frowning at them, but that Mr. Blackwell, too, had tilted an ear in their direction. His expression was more difficult to read than the Colonel’s, but it gave Hester a sudden chill.

Lady Oglethorpe glided over to take Sir Humphrey by the arm. “My dear, you must tell me what you know about this opera of Mr. Handel’s. The news-sheets say that Nicolino will play Amadis, but who will sing Oriana’s part if Mrs. Robinson is ill?”

She had deftly turned the conversation into a safer channel. Hester allowed her to draw Sir Humphrey away, and soon most of the guests had seated themselves for cards. With no money to wager, Hester did not play, so she could do nothing but watch Isabella lose more of St. Mars’s fortune, saying a prayer on every turn of the cards.

 

Chapter Seven

 

Bring then these blessings to a strict account;

Make fair deductions; see to what they mount:

How much of other each is sure to cost;

How each for other oft is wholly lost;

How inconsistent greater goods with these;

How sometimes life is risked, and always ease:

Think, and if still the things thy envy call,

Say, wouldst thou be the Man to whom they fall?

IV. vi.

 

Outside, Gideon was still reeling from the shock of seeing Mrs.
Kean and Isabella enter the home of a notorious Jacobite. He had arrived in the Palace Yard in time to see the Hawkhurst carriage, with his coachman on the box and his footmen hanging on the back, pull up in front of Lady Oglethorpe’s house. He had halted in his tracks and watched while first Isabella and then Mrs. Kean were handed out, then had turned to hide his face until they disappeared inside.

Even disguised, he could not be certain that his own servants would not know him, so he turned back out of the Palace Yard and headed north.

He wondered if either lady understood the risk she incurred by visiting that house. Harrowby had obviously not come with them. It would have surprised Gideon even more to see his cousin visiting a Tory house, especially when the knowledge that his cousin, Gideon’s father, had been an ardent Tory could give the present government reason enough to doubt Harrowby’s loyalty. Harrowby had been very eager to please King George and his Whig ministers, and since his party allegiance had no foundation in principle, he had been happy to change from Tory to Whig as soon as it had seemed expedient to do so.

But it was not his cousin’s politics or behaviour that concerned Gideon, or his countess’s. He was worried about Mrs. Kean. Her intelligence, he knew, was far above the ordinary, but her position as Isabella’s dependent could have dragged her into a piece of foolishness she could do nothing to prevent.

Disturbed, Gideon forgot about the loneliness that had directed his steps to Lady Oglethorpe’s house. As his feet carried him towards Charing Cross, he spared no attention for the people he passed, so lost was he in the world of his thoughts.

He had resolved for Mrs. Kean’s safety never to seek her out unless his name was cleared and his friendship would do her no harm. But his resolve had just been shattered, broken into a thousand tiny pieces by the danger she might be in. He would have to find out the purpose of her visit to Lady Fury’s house. And he would have to keep her from going there again.

Gideon had walked the better part of a mile before he realized that, contrary to common sense or good intentions, he couldn’t help being excited at the prospect of talking to Mrs. Kean again.

* * * *

Late on the following morning, Hester was in her aunt’s bedchamber, taking orders from Mrs. Mayfield, who was sipping chocolate in bed, when she was startled by the entrance of a footman who said that a messenger had asked to see her.

“What messenger?” Mrs. Mayfield demanded to know. “Who would send a message to my niece? You had better admit this person, so I can see him for myself.”

Hester did not know whom the message was from, but a fluttering in her stomach told her that it might be from St. Mars. Then, annoyed by such a foolish thought, she tried to convince herself that St. Mars was still in France. And even if not, he would have no likely reason to see her. She even allowed the footman to leave the room to fetch the boy, but the thought of what might happen if the message
were
from St. Mars and her aunt discovered it brought her quickly to her feet.

“I’ve remembered what this will be about, Aunt Mayfield. There is no reason for you to trouble yourself with it. Isabella asked me to find her a monkey to buy, and I asked a vendor to send me word as soon as he found her one. This is almost certain to be from him.”

As she expected, Mrs. Mayfield uttered a grunt of disgust. “Well, if
that’s
who it is, I have no wish to see him. Not if he’s been anywhere near those filthy creatures! A monkey, indeed! I cannot understand why Isabella would even want to touch one.”

“They
are
very fashionable, Aunt,” Hester couldn’t resist tossing over her shoulder on her way out.

A choking sound behind her told her how very much it troubled Mrs. Mayfield to hold any opinion that was opposed to fashion.

Hurrying in the footman’s wake, Hester was able to stop him and the messenger, too, before they started back up the stairs.

“It is quite all right, Will,” she said to the strapping, young manservant. “My aunt has given me permission to speak to the boy down here. You needn’t show him up.”

“That’s all right, then, ma’am.” Will gave her an impudent wink, as if to say that the old hen should have kept her nose out of her niece’s business from the start.

Not for the first time, Hester was grateful for the difference between the servants Mrs. Mayfield had employed in her former house and those at Hawkhurst House. The Mayfields’ butler, whom Mrs. Mayfield had dismissed on the elevation of her daughter to the rank of countess, would have sneered at the notion that Hester had any right to privacy.

But she did not dare waste time appreciating the contrast now, not when her aunt might chafe at her absense and demand to see the messenger again, so Hester instructed the boy to follow her into an antechamber near the front door where visitors were asked to wait.

On the mornings on which Harrowby held his levees, this space was crowded with gentlemen who wished to pay their respects. With few exceptions, these were men who hoped the new Lord Hawkhurst would be able to help them with a problem they were having with the government, with aspirations to a Court or government post, or with a loan of money. The exceptions, who were invited up before the others, were Harrowby’s friends, who simply enjoyed visiting while the earl dressed. They would compare his lordship’s new garments with their own and offer his valet advice, which undoubtedly drove Philippe to distraction, since he had decided opinions of his own, as well as a great appreciation of his own talent.

BOOK: The Spider's Touch
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