Chapter Thirteen

 

 

 

It gave Sophie, huddled apprehensively in her chair, a twinge of unworthy satisfaction to see the cool, well-bred poise shaken for a moment.

‘Grayling, dinner at seven thirty, please. That will be all,’ Lady John said, then, as the door closed, she turned back to Hal and raised one arched brow questioningly.

‘Emma, I know I may trust to your absolute discretion in introducing to you Miss Haydon, who finds herself in difficulties entirely due to her efforts to assist my sister. Sophie, may I introduce my sister-in-law, Lady John, and my brother, the Reverend Lord John Wyatt.’

Sophie got to her feet and held out her grubby hand. ‘I am so sorry to impose on you in this way, Lady John.’

Emma touched Sophie’s fingertips with her own. ‘Miss Haydon.’ It was a question, not a greeting.

Her husband was less reserved. ‘Good evening, Miss Haydon. Has Elizabeth involved you in one of her scrapes? But even if she has, why has Hal dragged you across the countryside in boy’s... er... such attire?’ He broke off as the impropriety of the whole situation sank in.

‘I am sure Miss Haydon would be glad to retire before dinner,’ Lady John remarked. ‘Will you not come with me?’ She ushered Sophie out and upstairs. ‘I believe Grayling has had the Blue Bedchamber made ready.’ On the threshold she broke off. ‘Oh. Your luggage is not here yet.’

‘I have none, ma’am.’ Sophie tried not to sound defensive.

‘But your own clothes? Surely, your gowns...’ Emma gestured her into the room and shut the door behind them. ‘How long have you been dressed as a boy?’

‘Three days.’ Sophie did not know how far to explain: it was for Hal to tell his family what had happened to Elizabeth, and how they came to be in York. ‘We had to make all speed, and there was no time to pack.’

There was a long pause while Lady John absorbed this information. ‘So you have been in my brother-in-law’s company, unchaperoned, for three days?’

‘Er...no, ma’am, it is nearer to a week now, but at first I was dressed in my own clothes, and we had the carriage.’

Lady John closed her eyes momentarily, then with admirable restraint said, ‘If you will step into the dressing room, you will find a bath has been prepared. I will send my maid to you with some clothes. Fortunately my sister, who is much your size, leaves a small wardrobe here on account of her frequent visits.’ She turned at the doorway. ‘Do not hesitate to ask Hetty if there is anything you require. I look forward to seeing you at dinner, Miss Haydon.’

Sophie plumped down on the bed with a huge sigh. Lady John’s cool hospitality was decidedly unnerving. Still, the Reverend Lord John Wyatt seemed enough like Hal for her to feel slightly more comfortable with him.

Soaping her tired legs in the bath, Sophie mused that if her appearance had stirred this well-regulated clerical household, it was as nothing compared to the revelations to come.

Lady John was as good as her word. When Sophie re-entered her chamber a rather pretty dress of jonquil lawn was laid out on the bed, along with petticoats, chemise, stockings and slippers of pale yellow kid. A pleasant-faced maid was setting out hairbrushes and rosewater on the dressing table and bobbed a curtsy as Sophie emerged, draped in a towel.

‘There you are, miss,’ she said, her flat Yorkshire vowels a novelty to Sophie’s ears. ‘I’m Hetty, miss. Shall I help you get dressed? And then we can see to your hair.’ She bustled round, tying laces and tightening bows. ‘There, it might have been made for you. Now, let’s see what we can do with this.’ She ran a brush through Sophie’s rapidly drying hair, clucking her tongue. ‘How did it get like this, miss? Looks like someone’s taken the sheep shears to it.’

‘That’s not far from the truth,’ Sophie confessed, warming to the young woman. ‘I had to disguise myself as a boy, you see.’

‘Never! Well, that’s a new one on me and a lady like you too.’ The maid's eyes were wide with excitement. ‘And you’ve been riding wi’ His Grace, dressed as a lad?’

‘Er, yes.’ She didn’t feel she could add anything else, as she watched the deft fingers tease curls out of the crop and snip the worst of the rough edges off with nail scissors.

‘Oh, thank you, that does look better,’ she said with relief as Hetty threaded a length of ribbon through the result which actually bore some resemblance to an intended style.

In fact, she thought, twirling in front of the cheval glass, the crop suited her. Now it was properly dressed it looked modishly dashing, made her neck look long and cheekbones high. And the dress was charmingly frivolous: obviously Lady John’s sister had good taste and the allowance to indulge it. Suddenly Sophie did not feel quite so tired.

She felt even better as she entered the drawing room and saw the expression on Hal’s face when he saw her. Even his brother was openly admiring, until, that was, he caught his wife’s eye.

Hal came forward to meet her, took her hands and raised them to his lips. ‘Sophie, you look ravishing,’ he said so only she could hear. He took her hand and led her to the sofa beside Lady John. ‘A glass of ratafia?’

Lord John had obviously been asking about his sister, and once Sophie was settled, persisted in questioning Hal. ‘So if she is not in Chelsea, Hal, where is she?’

‘I have no idea,' Hal said. ‘I only know she is with Justin Fanshaw, and has been this week past.’

John sat up abruptly, spilling his wine. ‘Justin Fanshaw? You mean she’s...’

In a breathless voice his wife completed the sentence. ‘...ruined.’ With a soft sigh Lady John flopped back against the sofa cushions, eyes closed. John leaped to his feet and bent over her, chafing her hands. ‘Emma, dearest.’

Hal poured a strong measure of brandy and passed it to John, who pressed it to his wife’s lips. She sipped, coughed, then opened her eyes and repeated, ‘Ruined! Whatever will the Archbishop say?’

Sophie, who had been about to ask if she should ring for Lady John’s maid, sat down again with a grimace of distaste. So, Emma’s first thoughts were for the effect her young sister-in-law’s predicament would have on her husband’s chance of preferment. It had horribly familiar echoes of George and Lavinia’s reaction to her own elopement.

Lord John looked extremely perturbed at his wife’s question, then, earning himself Sophie’s admiration, said robustly, ‘We will worry about that when we have rescued our sister. Our first thought must be to find Elizabeth and the scandal must be managed for her sake.’ He looked at Hal, who was silently pouring brandies for everyone. ‘What do we know of this Justin Fanshaw? I cannot recall him but the family is respectable enough, is it not?’

‘Perfectly respectable family, excellent connections,’ Hal said.

Sophie noticed that his sister-in-law’s colour improved at this news.

‘Unfortunately, Justin is the younger son, with few expectations and no scruples about marrying to improve his prospects. From what I can gather he has no talents, no application and no ambition. He needs to marry money and, in Elizabeth, he thinks he has found it.’

John set down his glass with a thump and joined his brother on the hearthrug where he began to pace up and down. ‘This is dreadful. Have you any idea where they are headed?’

Hal ran one hand through his hair in exasperation and glared at his brother. ‘For pity’s sake, man, stop pacing, it does not help. They were last seen heading for York. Why else do you think we are here?’

‘For a family conference, naturally,’ John said repressively.

‘The mails are quite adequate for communication these days,’ Hal remarked. ‘If they were heading in any other direction you may be sure I would have followed them there and saved myself a long, tedious and uncomfortable journey up the Great North Road!’

Sophie repressed a snort. Well, so that was how he chose to characterise their time together. It had certainly been long and uncomfortable, but tedious was hardly how it had seemed to her. In fact, the more she thought about it, the crosser she became. Thank heavens she had said nothing about her growing feelings for him. That would have been too humiliating.

Lady John, having finished her glass of brandy, had rallied and was sitting with furrowed brow muttering, ‘Fanshaw, Fanshaw... Now where have I heard that name?’ Suddenly she sat upright. ‘John, be so kind as to pull the bell.’ When the butler arrived she said, ‘Grayling, fetch me the York Directory from the Reverend’s study.’

With the book in her hands she looked up triumphantly. ‘I thought so. See, here in Heslington under Nobility, Gentry and Clergy, a Miss Henrietta Fanshaw. I thought I had met someone of that name.’ She fell into thought again. ‘I recall now, it was at a Missionary Society tea about a year ago. But she was a very old lady then, and quite frail. Surely the last person a dissolute young man would choose to promote his wickedness.’

‘I can think of no other reason for him to make this journey,’ Hal said slowly. ‘And if they are there, he has played right into our hands. No one in London knows of her disappearance so, provided we can extract her from Miss Fanshaw’s house, when she and I are seen here together the very reasonable assumption will be that we have arrived together on a visit to you.’

‘But she has been in his company for the best part of a week,’ Lady John said. ‘What if they…’ Her voice trailed off.

‘We will decide what it is best to do once we have her safe.’ Hal was grim. ‘Whatever the outcome, it is better that no one knows it was the result of an elopement.’

They seemed to have forgotten Sophie’s presence. The two men sat down again, John with the Directory in his hand, both of them focussed on Lady John.

‘I am acquainted with the curate of Heslington,’ John said. ‘In fact, I think he may be spending the night at the Archdeacon’s, he is his uncle, you know. I shall just step round and enquire of him what he knows of Miss Fanshaw.’

‘On what pretext?' Hal asked. ‘I thought we were trying to keep this quiet.’

‘On the perfectly true grounds that my brother, who has unexpectedly arrived to visit me, believes an acquaintance of his is staying with Miss Fanshaw.’

Lady John, looking positively animated, added, ‘And having heard that Miss Fanshaw is of advanced years, is reluctant to call in case it should discommode her.’

John shook his head reprovingly. ‘My love, that is embroidering the truth, and I hardly feel I can do that.’ He strode to the door, calling, ‘Grayling, my hat.’

In the silence that followed the sound of the front door closing Lady John looked round the room and seemed to see Sophie for the first time. It was probably a measure of just how discommoded she was that she said, ‘And, Miss Haydon, what of your position? If our dear sister Elizabeth finds herself ruined, as she surely will do, you are quite as much compromised.’ Hal flashed her a sharp look and she flushed. ‘Well, we have to think of it,’ she said.

‘I am thinking of it,’ he said repressively.

This was clearly not enough to satisfy Lady John. ‘But what of Miss Haydon’s parents?’

Sophie decided it was time she stepped in. She was finding it more than a little irritating to be discussed as though she were not in the room. ‘My parents are dead,’ she said coolly.

‘Then your guardian.’

‘I am of age, although I live with my brother and sister-in-law.’ Sophie struggled to keep her tone civil. After all, Lady John had taken her in despite her shocking situation. She was entitled to understand the circumstances. ‘I found myself in a position where I felt I could offer assistance to Lady Elizabeth. Unfortunately a carriage accident threw the Duke and I into each other’s company...’ Her voice petered out before she said, And into his arms.

She could not help noticing both her hostess’s expression and the way in which her eyes swivelled to Hal who was sitting at ease by the fireside, legs crossed negligently, his foot swinging. He caught his sister-in-law’s gaze and raised one eyebrow.

Lady John obviously felt she had to fill the silence. ‘Well? And what are you going to do about this, Weybourne?’ she enquired tartly.

‘This evening, my dear Emma? Have my dinner when John returns. Tomorrow? Pay a call upon Miss Fanshaw of Heslington. As to anything else, why, Miss Haydon and I have fully discussed the matter.’

He smiled blandly at her baffled expression and ignored Sophie’s mutinous mutter of, ‘No we haven’t.’

‘And I would be very much obliged, my dear Emma, if you would write to Miss Haydon’s brother and beg the indulgence of her company for a prolonged stay. Doubtless he is a little anxious.’

The sound of John’s return stopped further discussion. He strode in looking triumphant and stripped off his gloves with the air of a man with news to impart.

‘My dear, it would appear that your excellent memory is correct as always. There is indeed a Miss Fanshaw of Heslington: a very ancient lady who never leaves her room and receives only her physician, her lawyer and the vicar. You can imagine, therefore, what excitement and gossip there was amongst the villagers when a smart closed carriage – much travel-stained – arrived last night. It is the general opinion that Miss Fanshaw’s neglectful relatives have finally decided to pay her some attention. No doubt in anticipation of her demise and the content of her will.’

‘Thank heavens.’ Lady John exclaimed. ‘Elizabeth is in a respectable household under the chaperonage of a lady.’

‘An ancient lady in her dotage, apparently confined to her bed,’ Hal added acidly. ‘Forgive me, Emma, but the circumstance does not fill me with much confidence.’

Whatever Emma was about to retort was forestalled by the entrance of Grayling, announcing that dinner was served.

 

Very little was said in front of the servants at dinner but in the drawing room afterwards the discussion began again.

‘Hal and I will call early,’ John suggested, but he was interrupted by his wife.

'Only think of the practicalities, John. Miss Fanshaw is very likely to be confined to her bed. It would be injudicious to call too early. And in any case, surely we would wish to present the appearance of an ordinary courtesy call, so as not to cause speculation in the village. We will take the carriage in the afternoon and I will accompany you.’

Hal and John looked dubious, their relationship suddenly unmistakable in their identical expressions. Sophie decided she was tired of being ignored, other than to be disapproved of. ‘I think Lady John’s suggestion is an excellent one. We shall both accompany you, preferably in an open carriage. The expedition will then have a quite innocent appearance, which is more than can be said for the arrival of two angry men on horseback.’

‘Then we will set off from York at three with the ladies in the barouche. Hal and I will ride,’ John agreed.

By the time the tea tray arrived Sophie realised she could hardly keep her eyes open. The room seemed to swim before her eyes and her aching legs began to protest again. ‘If you will excuse me, Lady John, I think I will retire.’

She had just reached the head of the stairs when she heard the drawing room door open again and Hal say, ‘I will not be a moment, but I have left my handkerchief in my room.’

He took the stairs two at a time and arrived beside her as her hand was on the knob of her bedroom door. ‘Sophie.’

She turned, her heart thumping, ‘Yes?’

‘Are you all right? You have been very quiet.’

All her insecurity welled up. She was so tired and all too aware of the situation she found herself in. Alone with Hal it had been possible to forget the real world. Now the respectable surroundings of the Minster Close and Lady John with her politely veiled disapproval were the real world. Tears threatened, but she was determined not to shed them.

‘No, I am not all right. I am tired out, I am stiff from head to toe, I have been patronised by your sister-in-law, disapproved of in a very Christian manner by your brother and ignored by you. Now that my company, tedious as it was, is no longer of any possible use, I would be obliged if you would arrange my passage on the Mail back to London as soon as possible.’

‘Such indignation, my Sophie,’ Hal said, sounding maddeningly amused. He tipped up her chin and kissed her full on the lips, then before she could react he released her. ‘Goodnight, Sophie, sweet dreams. And you can forget about the Mail, we have matters to arrange, as you well know.’

‘I wish I had a trout in my hand right this moment,’ she snapped. ‘One I could slap you with.’ She whisked through the door and shut it firmly behind her. Her heart was pounding, her lips tingling from the fleeting touch of his and the thought of sleep was impossible.

Matters to arrange? So he had not thought better of that threat to marry her. Well, she would not agree and he could hardly force her to the altar. She was not going to marry a man on sufferance, just because he felt he was honour-bound to offer. He found her attractive enough, that was plain: but by his own admission he was a rake, and rakes did not go through life being choosy about the young ladies they kissed. She had no intention of marrying a man who, however attractive, would be faithful for just as long as it took for her to provide him with an heir, and possibly a spare, and then revert to his former ways.

As she pulled the nightgown over her head the memory of Lady John’s expression came back to her. Hal’s family was not going to welcome her as the Duchess when Hal could hope for a far more brilliant alliance. Although, as he was head of the family what he said, was, presumably law.

The best thing she could do for Hal was to remove herself as quickly as possible. She would go back to London and force George with threats of scandal to allow her enough money to live independently and retire to the countryside. And with this miserable resolution she fell into the black hole of sleep.