Talk of the Ton

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And what had possessed him to offer for her? He had been in her company less than an hour and in that time they had fought and argued and finally conversed, but only about botany and travel, which was hardly enough of an acquaintanceship on which to base an offer of marriage. He must have been mad. Thank goodness the Duke had not taken him seriously. Or perhaps he had, but had decided he did not meet his exacting standards as a husband for his niece.

But that vision at the top of the stairs had unsettled him. She had looked so feminine, so lovely, she had taken his breath away. He could not get her out of his head. Whenever he tried to turn his mind to other subjects, she was there, plaguing him for the most part, giving him her opinion of whatever it was he contemplated doing, whether it was deciding to change horses at a particular inn or what to order to eat, or whether he should transplant his botanical specimens in good garden loam or mix it with clay and manure. How did he know what her opinion would be? he asked himself and the only answer he could find was that he just knew. It was uncanny.

He heard galloping hooves and, glancing across the park, he saw a young lady riding hell for leather for the six-barred gate that divided the park from the drive. She cleared it magnificently, but it was not her fearless riding that made him gasp in shock but the girl herself. In the moment when she had launched herself and her mount at the gate, he thought it was Beth who had somehow transported herself from London to Sudbury ahead of him. Reason told him it was not possible and when the young lady reined in to turn towards him he realised it was not Beth, but someone extraordinarily like her. Her sister, he decided, as she trotted towards the carriage, which his driver had sensibly brought to a halt.

‘Good morning,’ she called to him. ‘You are an early caller, I am not sure Mama will be ready to receive you.’

He put his head out of the door and smiled. Although very like her sister, she was younger by a couple of years, her hair was lighter, her eyes grey, and she still had the adolescent bloom of the schoolgirl about her, but she was confident and not at all shy. Now, why did that not surprise him? ‘Miss Olivia Harley, I presume?’

‘Yes, how did you know?’

‘You are very like your sister.’

‘You have seen her?’ she asked eagerly. ‘You know where she is?’

‘Yes, she is safe with your uncle at Belfont House.’

‘Oh, thank the good Lord. Our mother was sure she would come back yesterday because she left a note to say she would be and she sent Mr Kendall, our steward, to Sudbury to meet all the coaches, but when Beth did not come, she was almost out of her mind. She will be greatly relieved by your news.’ She did not wait for a reply, but added. ‘Follow me to the house, if you please, and you may tell Mama yourself.’

She set off up the drive at a decorous trot and dismounted at the side of the house, handing her horse over to a groom. Andrew’s carriage pulled up at the front door where he alighted and she conducted him into a wide hall that smelled pleasantly of spring flowers and beeswax.

‘Mama! Mama!’ she shouted, mounting the stairs two at a time, grabbing the skirt of her habit in both hands and revealing trim breeches tucked into riding boots. ‘Beth is safe!’

Andrew smiled. She and her sister made a pair when it came to hoydenish behaviour. Was that how they had been brought up? Was their mother the same?

He was disabused of that idea when Lady Harley appeared at the top of the stairs. She was in an undress robe of blue silk, her hair loosely tied by a ribbon, but there was no mistaking the aristocrat, even though she was anxious about her daughter.

‘Livvy, do you have to shout?’ she queried. ‘And if Beth is home, where is she? Hiding from me, I shouldn’t wonder, considering the torment she has put me through.’ She stopped suddenly when she saw Andrew looking up at her from the hall. ‘Oh. Who are you?’

She started to descend as he made his bow. ‘Andrew Melhurst, my lady. I have come from Belfont House. You daughter is safe with her uncle, the Duke.’

She had reached ground level and came towards him, smiling. ‘Thank goodness for that, though he is the last person I would expect her to apply to.’

He smiled. ‘She did not exactly apply to him, my lady. I am afraid I gave her no choice.’

‘Oh, dear, you are confusing me. I did not sleep last night and my brain must be a little fuddled. Do come into the drawing room and I will order refreshment and then you may tell me the whole. And do not keep anything back.’ She was leading the way into a large airy room that looked out on to the garden at the back, which was a riot of spring flowers. Livvy, so consumed by curiosity she ignored the fact that she was wearing riding boots and her habit was dragging on the carpet, followed them. ‘You see, I know my daughter very well and I know how headstrong she can be. Do sit down.’ She waved him to a sofa and he folded his long frame into it. ‘Livvy, don’t stand there gaping like a fish out of water, go and change. And before you do, please tell Mrs Jobson to bring coffee and cakes. Or would you rather have breakfast, Mr Melhurst? I can easily arrange it.’

‘Thank you, but I had breakfast at an inn in Sudbury before I came.’

‘Have you come straight from Belfont House?’

‘Yes, my lady. The Duke was most anxious you should be relieved of your anxiety, as was Miss Harley,’ he added, though why he should try to mitigate what she had done, he did not know.

‘And no doubt you have driven through the night. Oh, how grateful I am, but you must be fatigued—’

‘Not at all my lady. I was able to doze in my coach and I am accustomed to going without sleep. Think no more of it.’

A servant arrived with refreshments; though it was evident Lady Harley was anxious to have news of her daughter, politeness dictated that she must wait until he had been given refreshment. They were shortly joined by Livvy, now in a light silk dress the colour of the daffodils that bloomed so freely in the garden. She sat down next to her mother and leaned forward, agog to hear all about Beth’s adventures.

‘Mr Melhurst, please tell us everything,’ Harriet began. ‘I was about to send Mr Kendall to London to tell my brother what had happened and enlist his help in tracking her down. But it seems he knows already.’ She paused. ‘But you said you gave her no choice…’

‘No, my lady. I returned from India three—’ he stopped to correct himself ‘—no, four days ago now and met your daughter on the quayside. She was dressed somewhat…’ he paused ‘…unusually.’

‘I discovered that when I searched her room to find out what she was wearing.’

‘No doubt she thought it would give her a certain protection if people thought she was a young lad, but as a disguise it was lamentable.’

She managed a chuckle. ‘I realise that. But she was not entirely unfeeling. She left me a letter telling me what she meant to do, and, though I know she is confident and self-possessed, she has naturally never travelled alone and I feared for her.’

‘She has plenty of spirit, my lady, but when I spoke to Mr Kendall, he asked me to take her to her uncle.’

‘Mr Toby Kendall, I collect you mean. He is the son of my steward.’

‘Yes. He was most anxious about her, but the ship was about to sail and he was worried that if he left it to take her home, the Duke would be angry that he had not fulfilled his part of their bargain. And it would also compromise her reputation…’

‘He did not think it would be compromised by handing her over to you?’ she asked with a gentle smile.

‘I had a closed coach nearby, my lady, and could convey her without her being seen.’

‘Then I thank you.’

‘What did Uncle James say?’ Livvy asked. ‘I bet he was furious with Beth.’

‘Concerned, I should say,’ he said wryly. He turned back to Lady Harley. ‘He suggested that as your daughter was already in London, you should bring forward your visit and arrange to go to Belfont House as soon as possible. I believe he intends to keep Miss Harley indoors until you arrive.’

Livvy giggled. ‘He would have to, considering she has no luggage with her. He could hardly let her out dressed in Papa’s old clothes.’

‘Do not be foolish, Livvy,’ her mother chided her. ‘Your Aunt Sophie will have found something for her to wear. But I can see it would be easier if everyone thought we had arrived in London together. I think I can be ready by the day after tomorrow…’ She paused. ‘Mr Melhurst, you are welcome to stay and rest before returning.’

‘Oh, I am not returning, my lady, I am on my way home to Newmarket.’

‘Newmarket!’ Livvy exclaimed. ‘Do you, by chance, have any connection with horse racing?’

He smiled at the way her eyes lit up in much the same way as her sister’s had when talking about botany. ‘My grandfather, Lord Melhurst, has extensive stables and is well known in racing circles.’

‘Oh, I have heard of the Melhurst stud,’ she said. ‘There is Melhurst Sunburst and Melhurst Moonshine, both prime goers, and Pegasus, who is top of the trees over the jumps. Do you ride in the races, Mr Melhurst?’

‘I have been out of the country, Miss Olivia, but I sometimes did before I left seven years ago.’

‘Oh, how I should like to do that.’

He laughed. ‘Ride in a horse race, Miss Olivia?’

‘Yes, why not? I am a first-class rider…’

‘I do not doubt it, but there is more to it than being able to ride well and it would never be allowed.’

‘Of course not, Livvy,’ her mother put in. ‘What nonsense you talk sometimes.’

‘I do not see why a woman could not be as good as a man. She would be lighter, for a start.’

‘But would she be able to keep her seat if she was barged?’ Andrew put in. ‘It does go on, you know, and ladies’ saddles were never designed—’

‘Not side saddle, Mr Melhurst, that would put her at a disadvantage from the start. No, it would have to be astride—’

‘I think you have said enough on the subject, Livvy,’ her mother said. ‘Mr Melhurst will think the whole Harley family is eccentric.’

‘Not at all.’ He smiled. ‘But if you and your daughters were to find yourselves in the Newmarket area, I would be very pleased to show you round the stables at Heathlands.’

‘Oh, would you?’ Livvy enthused. ‘Then we must contrive to find ourselves in the area very soon.’

He was only being polite, he told himself, he did not, for a moment, think they would take him up on his offer, but then he realised that he was hoping they would, especially if Miss Harley was also of the party. He could see her in his mind’s eye, dressed conventionally, strolling with him along the gravel paths, admiring, not the horses, but the gardens. He had sent many unusual plants back to England from his travels in the Himalayas and the Far East, and, though a good many had died in transit or could not survive in the English climate, some had thrived. He would enjoy talking to her about them and finding out just how knowledgeable she was, exchanging plants perhaps.

‘I collect you are going to London for the Season, Miss Harley.’

‘So we are. But the Season ends in July…’

‘And by then you may have found other interests.’

She laughed. It was a light musical sound, lighter than her sister’s deep chuckle. ‘You mean I might have found a husband?’

He bowed to confirm this.

‘I am more likely to find one to suit me at Newmarket than in London, Mr Melhurst. Horses are my passion and my husband must share it.’

‘Poor man,’ Lady Harley said. ‘To have to compete with a horse must be the ultimate humiliation. Now I think we have detained Mr Melhurst long enough.’ She rose to her feet and Andrew quickly stood up and bowed over the hand she offered. ‘I cannot tell you how grateful I am that you brought us good news,’ she said. ‘Please visit us again.’ She smiled. ‘We shall be in London for the Season, but you will be welcome after that. Or are you, perhaps, going up to town yourself? You could call on us at Belfont House.’

‘I had no plans to return, my lady, but I thank you.’

He took his leave and was conducted to the door by a footman. He could hear the young lady’s voice as he went. ‘Mama, I would much rather go to Newmarket than London…’

He climbed back into his coach and settled himself in the corner to sleep the three hours it would take to convey him home to Heathlands. Tomorrow he would send his groom to take the hired horses back to Sudbury where he had last changed them and then go on and fetch his own horses from his first stop. It was not what he had planned. Before he met Miss Harley he had intended to drive leisurely behind the wagon with frequent stops and would not have needed to change horses. The extra expense of post chaise did not trouble him, but he was surprised that the Duke had not suggested compensating him. On the other hand, it had been the Duchess who had asked him to come to Sudbury and she would not have given it a thought. Money was of no consequence to her.

He wondered how well off Lady Harley was. What he had seen of the house and particularly the garden had been delightful, but he could not help noticing the frayed carpets, faded curtains and scuffed paintwork, things that would undoubtedly have been remedied if she had had the blunt to do it. He guessed they were reliant on the Duke to help support them. In that case his Grace would have the last word when it came to approving husbands for his nieces. He smiled to himself; he doubted if he would fit the bill. He was the heir to a baronetcy, but even if a baron was considered elevated enough, his past would catch up with him. There was bound to be someone on the London scene who remembered Lady Katherine Haysborough, as she was then, and would not be averse to reminding everyone.

He had made himself look no end of a fool over her. She had been married at the time and spoiling for an affair and he, enjoying his first Season in London after finishing at university, had been flattered and blind to the fact that she was using him. She professed to love him, had appeared at the same functions he did and, though he made every effort to be discreet, she had made no secret of her interest, until it had come to the ears of her husband who threatened publicly to call him out. The whole thing looked set to blow up into a scandal of monumental proportions and his grandfather had called him over the coals for it.

‘You silly young fool,’ he had said, his normally placid countenance red with anger. ‘She’s years older than you are and has had so many lovers you need more than your ten fingers to count them. Do you want to be one in a long line, all discarded when her husband threatens to divorce her? She doesn’t want a divorce; she simply wants the expensive presents her lovers give her to add to those her husband gives her when they are reconciled…’

‘I do not believe that. She has been ill used and—’

‘It is you who are ill used, my boy, believe me. And not only you, but me too. My success as a breeder of racehorses depends on the good will I have built up over the years. I am respected and trusted by those who have dealings with me and I will not have you undermining that with unsavoury scandal. If you must take a mistress, for goodness’ sake take one of your own age and be more discreet.’

The next time he had seen Kitty was at a ball and he had watched as she flirted outrageously with every man present, laughing at his discomfort. He had decided his grandfather was right; she was certainly not worth fighting a duel over and he had taken himself off to India, not so much for his own sake but his grandfather’s. He had become very wealthy in the process, besides older and wiser. Lord Haysborough had subsequently died and the not-so-grieving widow had married his cousin, Edward Melhurst, son of his father’s younger brother. He had been about to return home at the time, but decided to stay away because his arrival so soon after the new marriage might have revived the scandal and he did not want the family name sullied. It was only his grandfather’s failing health that had brought him home in the end.

And what a strange arrival: Grandfather better, though not back to his previous robust health, Teddy and Kitty living close by and toadying to the old man, and meeting the extraordinary Miss Elizabeth Harley. He began comparing her with Kitty and then stopped when he realised the absurdity of doing that. There was no point at which they were comparable. ‘Chalk and cheese,’ he murmured, drifting into sleep.

As he dozed he dreamed he was hacking his way through a tropical jungle surrounded by exotic plants with colourful flowers the size of saucers, but instead of stopping to admire and classify them, he was pressing on, trying to find a way through dense undergrowth towards the woman’s voice that called to him with more and more urgency. He knew she was near at hand, knew she needed him, but he could not quite reach her. He glimpsed a flash of green silk and a huge black hat, but the more he hacked away at the undergrowth the more out of reach she seemed. And, behind him, he could hear the thundering of hooves, which was impossible given the nature of the terrain.

He woke up with a start as the carriage turned into the gates of Heathlands and realised that it had been the change in pace of his own horses which had roused him from his dream. He shook the sleep from him as the coach made its way towards the house. It was a large ivy-covered mansion, set in extensive grounds where thoroughbreds grazed. The stables stretched for a hundred yards on one side of the house and here there were men at work, feeding, grooming, cleaning out the magnificent animals, under the watchful eye of John Tann, his grandfather’s master of horse. Until he was out in the heat of the subcontinent, he had not realised how much he loved the place, loved the air of quiet efficiency, the tranquillity, even the pungent stable smell that pervaded almost everything.

Leaving the coach, he bounded up the steps to the front door, which was opened as he reached it. ‘How is my grandfather, Littlejohn?’ he asked the footman, as he handed over his hat and gloves.

‘Better, sir. He is up and dressed. No doubt he will be pleased to see you back again. You will find him in the conservatory.’

Andrew hurried across the spacious hall where, on cold days in winter, a huge log fire burned. Today it was unlit, but the area was warmed by the sun that poured through the long stained-glass window on the half-landing. He went through to a back room that was library, study and office all in one and was cluttered with books, papers, ledgers, trophies, statuettes of horses, a couple of riding whips propped in a corner and bits of coloured silk and brass objects which had been there so long everyone had forgotten their original purpose. Andrew smiled at what appeared to be untidy clutter, knowing that his grandfather knew exactly where everything was and became very irate if anything was moved.

‘Who is that?’ a voice demanded from the other side of an open door.

‘Drew, Grandfather.’ He crossed the room in three or four longs strides and entered the conservatory. It was almost a jungle itself, being full of plants that needed the heat and humidity of the glass room, where they grew to gigantic proportions. It was his grandfather’s favourite place to sit because, like the plants, he enjoyed the warmth. One side gave a view over rolling meadows, the other faced the stable yard and he could see the men and the horses coming and going.

‘You are back, then?’ he said from the depths of an armchair. Clad in a burgundy dressing gown, he was thin and frail, only a shadow of the big muscular man he had once been, but his mind was still sharp and very little escaped him. ‘Did you get your business done?’

‘Yes.’ He pulled up a chair to sit close to the old man, so that he could be heard and seen. ‘How are you?’

His lordship ignored the question. ‘Don’t know why you couldn’t have left it to Simmonds and Carter. Home half a day and gone again.’

‘But I’m back now.’

‘For good, I hope.’

‘If that is your wish.’

‘Of course it is my wish. It is where you belong. You are my heir…’

‘It is not something I want to think about for a long time.’

‘Gammon! I am old and you will have to take over the reins sooner or later, might as well settle down to it.’ He paused. ‘But who will take over the reins from you? That it what I keep asking myself. It is time you made a push to find yourself a wife and start a family of your own.’

‘There is plenty of time.’

‘Not for me, there isn’t. Put the past behind you, Drew, and look to the future. The last thing I want is for the offspring of that woman to inherit and it will happen if you do not make a move to prevent it.’

‘They have children?’

‘A son, though I ain’t at all sure he’s a Melhurst. Seven-month baby, they said, but he was a big ’un if he was. The woman is too old to conceive again. Get married, Drew, do it before I stick my spoon in the wall, then I will die happy.’

‘I will do my best, sir.’

‘Good. Tonight I think I shall dress for dinner.’ He rose stiffly and Andrew hurried to help him. ‘Teddy’s coming. Can’t keep the fellow away. He is probably hoping I will change my mind and name him my heir.’