Memoirs of a Hoyden Page 14

  By dint of repetition I convinced the half-wit of what she had really been delivering. Her concern was not for what she had cost her country, but for what her father would do. “Oh, Miss Mathieson, you mustn’t tell Papa. I won’t do it anymore, I promise. I won’t ever see Ber­nard again. I was beginning to think he wasn’t eager to marry me. I heard he was seeing a girl who works at the tavern, but he told me it wasn’t so.”

  “If you care to see that hedge bird, you’ll have to go to jail to do it. He’s been arrested tonight.” I didn’t mention his wound. It might be the very thing to re­activate her love.

  “Do you think he’ll tell everyone about me?” she asked, staring glassy-eyed.

  “Your father might convince him not to do so. It would only make him appear more villainous, to have debauched an innocent young girl, turned her to his vile purposes.”

  A question formed on her brow. “You sound just like Mr. Pruitt,” she said. This name, unmentioned till now, belongs to Aurelia’s guardian. Nel held up the book, smiling. “I didn’t see any harm in meeting Ber­nard in secret, for Aurelia Altmire, in this book, has to meet her lover clandestinely, and he is the one who rescues her from the French soldiers. The author says a young lady must take her destiny in her own hands. I’ve read this book three times. It inspired me, Miss Mathieson.”

  When the anonymous English lady gave that advice, it was intended for rational creatures only. Who could have foreseen its falling into the hands of morons and being so misinterpreted? “You must realize, Nel, there is a difference between reality and fiction. You should never flout your father’s authority.’’

  “Aurelia would never allow herself to be forced to marry Mr. Harcourt,” she said, and burst into tears. “That’s the only reason I met with Bernard. I don’t want to marry Alfred. I’ll run away if he makes me.”

  The anonymous author wavered between conviction and expediency. She could not in good conscience urge Miss Longville to capitulate completely. “I’ll talk to your papa,” I promised rashly.

  “Miss Mathieson, what do you think the judge will do to me? I won’t be put in Bridewell, will I? Perhaps Alfred would be a little better than that,” she said, looking for my opinion.

  “Even Alfred would be a little better than that, but it would not do for you to tell your papa so. And in any case, accepting Alfred doesn’t change the fact that you have committed serious crimes. I should stand firm on the matter of Mr. Harcourt, if I were you. Is there no one else? ...”

  She frowned a moment, the tears drying on her cheeks. “Lord Kestrel is handsome,” she said, mus­ingly.

  “He rather reminds me of your papa,” I said non­chalantly. “The sort of gentleman who would expect to rule you with an iron fist.”

  “That’s true. Mr. Kidd is much more biddable, I think.”

  “But not very well to grass.” Poor Ronald, he must not be sacrificed to this moonling. He deserved better, “Is there no one in London?”

  Now that Bernard was becoming a memory, she be­gan to rhyme off a series of young gentlemen who were “quite handsome” and “rather amusing” and “seemed somewhat interested.” Of course, they hadn’t the ad­vantage of farms adjacent to Longville, but surely that could be talked away. “You haven’t forgotten you said I could stay with you in London, Miss Mathieson?” she said, smiling innocently.

  “Of course not,” I replied, with very little enthusiasm. I suggested she go to bed. Without prattling of modesty, I felt I could present her case to her father more convincingly than she could herself. The next thing to be done was to rouse up Sir Herbert, but before doing that, I wanted to see if Kestrel and Ronald had returned yet. The saloon was dark and empty. I lit the lamps and waited. Before long, the tread of boots was heard, and the low murmur of men’s voices. I had left the front door on the latch and didn’t rise to greet them. They saw the lighted saloon and came in, looking like a pair of poachers in their disheveled clothes and dirty faces.

  Kestrel seemed surprised at my renovated condition. “All back in shipshape, eh, Miss Mathieson?” He smiled. “I was afraid you might be hurt after your tum­ble.” That “Miss Mathieson” came as a bit of a shock, after our tangle on the cliffs. I was sure I would be Marion, and before long he would be Nick.

  “There’s no point wallowing in filth when it is un­necessary. What have they done with Kemp?”

  “He’s jelly to the marrow of his bones,” Ronald an­nounced cheerfully. “He was bleating like a sheep. You would have laughed to hear him apologizing and ex­plaining, Marion, when Nick hit him up about kissing you. He said he thought you were Nel, which explains it. In the dark, he mistook you for a young girl. Natu­rally, he wouldn’t have tried to kiss you.”

  “Any gentleman foolhardy enough to attempt that would soon have his ears singed,” Kestrel agreed blandly.

  “By jingo, Kemp’s lucky she didn’t run him through with her dagger again.”

  “Yes, I can appreciate his good fortune in avoiding that,” Nick smiled.

  “But what happened to him?” I persisted, to change the direction of the conversation. “Is he in custody?”

  “Dr. Lattimer patched him up, and the constable hauled him off to the roundhouse for tonight,” Kestrel replied. “I’ll have to give evidence at the trial. What we still have to determine is how he coerced Nel into helping him.”

  “I’ve spoken to Nel,” I said, and briefly outlined what she had told me. “Kemp didn’t mention her name?”

  Kestrel was studying my face in a curious way. I feared I had used too lavish a hand with the kohl pencil, though his expression was not at all condemning. “No, I shouldn’t think he will. It will only blacken his char­acter further to add that to it.”

  “That’s what I was hoping,” I nodded.

  “Sir Herbert will get her shackled up with Alfred Harcourt in a hurry, and that will take care of Nel,” Kestrel said.

  Any agreement between Kestrel and myself was “like angels’ visits, short and far between.” This patriarchal attitude got my hackles in an uproar. “It is Sir Herbert’s insistence she marry that yahoo that caused all the trou­ble in the first place! She won’t have him, Kestrel.”

  His brows rose, his nostrils flared, and he rose to his feet to glare down at me. “In other words, you’ve been advising her to disobey her father’s’ commands.”

  I saw from the corner of my eye that Ronald had crossed his arms and assumed his smile reserved for watching me tackle overbearing foes. “I have agreed with her that she has a right to some say in her own destiny. Why should it be for you and Sir Herbert to force the poor child into marriage with a man she de­spises? Tell me that! And I’ll tell you something else; if her father makes her have him, this little spree will be child’s play compared to what will follow. It will be a runaway match with the butcher or a traveling sales­man. Let Sir Herbert take her to London, where she can choose a husband for herself—some unexceptionable gentleman. I understand there are plenty of them willing to undertake the role.”

  “She’s only eighteen years old,” Kestrel shouted. “She doesn’t know what’s best for her.”

  “She’s old enough to know what’s worst for her!”

  “Harcourt is the logical man. He has an excellent character. He’d take care of Nel.”

  “He also has a face like a ram.”

  “Such personal comments have no place in this dis­cussion. His farm, a very prosperous estate, runs with Sir Herbert’s land for miles. Nel would be right next door to her father, home where she grew up and knows everyone.”

  “Yes, all the smugglers and attractive fortune hunt­ers! Why must you men think enlarging an estate the only things that matter?”

  “A large estate can be run more efficiently. It’s more prosperous.”

  “The Longvilles are prosperous enough. You and Sir Herbert can bend Nel’s ears till the sheep come home, but you won’t find her so biddable as you hope. She has a mind of her own.”

  “No, Miss Mat
hieson, she has a piece of your dis­ordered mind, which has no more conception of what is proper than one of those sheep you so frequently deride. She would never have had the gumption to chal­lenge her father without your troublesome assistance. You have already made my life a hell. Isn’t that enough mischief for one day?”

  I opened my lips to answer this charge, but before I could get a word in, he ranted on, a fierce light gleam­ing in his pale eyes. “And furthermore, Kemp let out that it was you who delivered the letter tonight, not Nel.”

  “She told me it was only a note explaining why she couldn’t meet him. It seemed preferable to having her slip out again after we’d left. I expect Ronald told you we had already stopped her once.”

  “What you should have done was told Sir Herbert. He would have locked her in her room till she came to see reason.”

  “No, she would have opened the window and climbed out, if she had her wits about her.” I began to sympathize with Nel. I hadn’t realized how insufferably overbearing and patronizing men could be. But I think what made her behavior in not wanting to marry Harcourt so heinous in the quivering nostrils of Kestrel was that I was involved in it.

  “It’s obvious you grew up without the proper guid­ance of a strict father,” he sneered, “nor with any guidance at all but your own headstrong stubbornness.”

  Any slur on my father was not to be borne. “My father, sir, was an officer and a gentleman. Not a bloated, conceited oaf like you and Sir Herbert! I never fully appreciated the vastness of your arrogance till to­night. You haven’t even spoken to Sir Herbert! If you keep your oar out, I believe I can convince him to turn Harcourt off.’’

  “Sir Herbert is my friend, and as you have got both oars in the water, you may be sure I shan’t keep my tongue between my teeth.” On that fine mixing of metaphors, he jutted his chin out and glared.

  Ronald stood up, ready to appease us both. “It seems you two are at right angles over this. I think—”

  “When did you begin doing that?” I demanded.

  Having thoroughly offended both gentlemen, I rose like a fury and stomped from the room. At the doorway I turned and leveled a parting shot over my shoulder. “And furthermore, I have offered Nel shelter in London with me if her father doesn’t see reason in this matter. You may tell Sir Herbert so. Come along, Ronald, we must make plans for an early departure tomorrow.’’

  “Ronald will be required to give testimony at the trial,” Kestrel called after my fleeing form.

  Nuisance! And not a second later it occurred to me that I was more deeply involved than Ronald. Why was I not asked to give testimony? It was because of my sex, of course. The judge wouldn’t take the word of a mere female seriously. Spying and such life-and-death matters were men’s work. And a fine botch they’d all made of it!

  I went to my room but left my door ajar, to hear if Sir Herbert was sent for. I meant to get in the first word if he was. It seems they were letting the poor soul have the last decent night’s sleep he’d have for many a long moon. I could almost pity the man, if I weren’t so vexed with him.

  Many troubles assailed me as I sat waiting for Ronald to come up and we could discuss the matter. Not least of them was my rash offer to house Nel. I truly didn’t want the ninny cluttering up my apartment. I was in the middle of my lecture tour, too, which meant either dragging her along with me, or hiring a chaperone for her.

  I was due to speak at Canterbury tomorrow night, and I had no cash with me to arrange transportation there. My belongings were scattered across the coun­tryside. My trunk of memorabilia now at the inn at Redden, my necklace at the shoemaker’s, my Aurelia manuscript hopefully still unsold at Chatham, and Ron­ald’s watch at Ashford. I felt a sting of remorse, too, that some of Aurelia’s advice to impressionable young ladies was open to misinterpretation.

  And after I had pondered all these nagging trifles, I was left with the more distressing realization that Kes­trel thought me as freakish as a bearded lady. That em­brace on the cliffside had been born of frustration, not love. He was a conservative gentleman who would marry his next-door neighbor, providing her papa had a large farm touching his. There was no romance in his soul. He would be exactly the wrong husband for me. I didn’t intend to have my activities trammeled by a domineering husband too concerned for what people thought. I couldn’t possibly live under such confining strictures, and worse yet, I wasn’t going to have the opportunity to refuse. It was best to forget him, and get on with my life.

  It was a pretty good life. After the war, I’d go to the Continent and research another serious book. There was a world of history and legend in Greece, for instance. I hadn’t begun to scratch the surface of Greece. How thrilling to dip into the classics, and go to see with my own eye where civilization was born.

  This was the thought I took to bed with me an hour later, when still Ronald had not come up, nor Sir Her­bert gone down. It was very hard to concentrate on Greece when my heart lay heavy in my chest. I had really thought Kestrel was coming to care for me. When had I decided I loved him? Was this love, this gnawing ache inside, and not the rapturous flights of ecstasy so generously bestowed on Aurelia? If so, I wanted no part of it. Whatever joy it might bring, it was too dearly bought.

  * * *

  Chapter 12

  It was necessary to resort to an old trick learned from Ishmael Aga, chief of the Delibash tribes, to achieve any sleep at all that night. He suffered from insomnia, and to court Lethe, he used to mentally design ara­besques, intricate interlacing swirled patterns used as decoration on everything in the East. After an hour, my imagination had filled the ceiling above me with these complex knots, but my mind was as unsettled as ever.

  As a result of my bad night, I overslept the next morning. When I finally awoke, I was very thoroughly dis­gruntled and more tired than when I went to bed. I was ready to take on Sir Herbert and Lord Kestrel and any­one else who looked at me aslant. I went storming downstairs to do battle with the world, and found only Ronald in the breakfast room, huddling over a cup of coffee.

  “Where is everyone?” I demanded.

  He gave me a disparaging look. “There’s no point mounting your high horse, Marion. Everything’s been taken care of. Nick and Sir Herbert have gone to Hythe to speak to the lord-lieutenant and explain away Nel’s innocent involvement. Nick talked Sir Herbert out of mentioning that you actually delivered the letter.”

  “Kind of him! When was all this arranged, and why was I not invited to be present?”

  “Nick didn’t want you here, rubbing Sir Herbert the wrong way. We settled most of it last night after you were asleep.”

  “It may interest you to know I did not sleep last night. I was awake forever, and didn’t hear Sir Herbert come downstairs.’’

  “We didn’t send for Longville till after one in the morning. Nick and I thrashed out what had best be done first. We had him come down the servants’ stairs so as not to disturb you.”

  “To prevent my having an opportunity to make him see reason, you mean. That weasel! Next you will tell me they’ve already married Nel off to Alfred Harcourt.”

  “No, Nel’s future was all tied up this morning. She took breakfast with us. She isn’t going to marry Harcourt. She’s going to visit her cousin in Bath. A letter’s already been sent to the cousin to come and fetch her.’’

  “We’ll see about that! Packing her off to some ogre to trim her into line. I offered Nel shelter with me, and I mean to see she gets it!”

  “She is delighted to be going to her cousin. It seems Mrs. Fitzroy is a great favorite of hers. She has a son— not terribly well to grass, but what Nick called ‘a bright lad.’ He’s very keen on raising sheep,” Ronald added, with a knowing look. “Sir Herbert is going to resign his commission with the government and come home to tend his farm. I expect within a few months, he’ll have a son-in-law to assist him.”

  “At least they aren’t making her marry Harcourt.”

  “We have Nick to thank for t
hat. He explained his views to Sir Herbert with a generous strength. The words ‘bloated, conceited oaf’ were used at one point. I think you went a bit too far there, my girl. Outdid yourself. Sir Herbert didn’t take kindly to it, but Nel cleverly went into a fit of bawling and defended her papa, which did a world of good. Blamed her rash behavior on some novel she’d been reading. Sir Herbert was determined to push the match forward at first, but between Nel’s tears and Nick’s tongue-lashing, he was talked out of it.”

  “I’m surprised to hear Kestrel changed his opinion.”

  “So was I, to tell the truth. Last night after you left he went into a fine rant, practically vowing that he’d see Nel married to Alfred if it killed him. It sounded like spite to me—and he has no reason to spite Nel.” His sapient look wasn’t needed to tell me the object of this tender emotion. “By this morning he had calmed down and actually urged Sir Herbert to be lenient with the girl. A marriage without love would only lead to strife, he said.”

  “Well then, some good came of my hysterics.” I went to the sideboard and filled my plate. My temper was beginning to calm down as I considered Ronald’s news. It was actually a relief to know Nel wouldn’t be battened on me, so long as she wasn’t being made to have Harcourt. Kestrel was apparently calming down, too. I was interested to hear if he might have said any­thing about me, but didn’t quite care to enquire directly. I went at it by indirection instead.

  “Did Sir Herbert say when he would be back?” I didn’t suppose for a minute that he would return with­out Kestrel.

  “No, but I should think he’d be here by noon.”

  That didn’t leave me much time to gather my belong­ings up from around the countryside and get to Canter­bury in time for the lecture. “That late?” Possibly Kestrel would return earlier.

  “We don’t have to wait for them. I told Sir Herbert about your lecture this evening, and he offered the loan of a carriage and team to take care of our errands. It was kind of him, but I suspect the truth is, he just wanted to get you out of the house. Nel was quoting your advice freely. ‘Miss Mathieson said’ came out in every other sentence. Sir Herbert particularly ordered Nel not to leave her room till we were gone, and re­quested that you not go to her. I gave him my word, Marion,” he added, and looked at me hopefully.