Page 12 of The Book of Lost Stories
Life on the Page
Malvina pushed aside the veil of ivy and stepped out into the moonlight. Freedom, at last! Yet before her, as far as the eye could see, lay a wild and craggy vista.
The Travails of Lady Malvina by ORLANDO brOWNE
No sooner had Alys completed and dispatched her first novel, than she was searching around for a subject for the next, and inspiration came in the unlikely form of James Basset.
He had been sitting with them for quite half an hour prosing on about celestial bodies, but now through a rain-smeared window she watched him ride away on his stout cob, as unromantic a figure of a young man as could be.
Yet, if she half-closed her eyes and used a little imagination, how transformed might he become?
‘Letty, what if James were really a villain,’ she suddenly suggested, ‘and Sir Ralph banished him to the plantation on Antigua, because of his scandalous wrongdoings?’
Miss Grimshaw’s mouth dropped open, making her look like a half-witted sheep. ‘A – a villain? But James is not – he could not – indeed, he is the most proper young man!’
‘Just pretend it, Letty. This is a book, not real life.’
She took a hasty turn or two around the little parlour, eyes aglow with excitement. ‘So, off he goes to Antigua where he ensnares an innocent and beautiful heiress. Then, on hearing of his father’s death, he brings her back to his half-ruined and picturesquely remote castle.’
‘But Sidlington Hall is not a castle, or very remote.’
Alys said patiently, ‘But in my book it will be a castle, neglected and dank, with guttering torches along gloomy passages, dungeons, cellars and huge cavernous chimneys that howl like the voices of the dead whenever the wind blows, and—’
‘Oh, stop, stop!’ begged Letty, her eyes round as saucers. ‘I declare, I don’t know where you get your terrifying ideas from in the least.’
Mary came in for the tea tray and surveyed the empty plate with disgust. ‘Has that great lummock etten all the cheese straws? You’d think they never fed him, up t’Hall.’
‘Appearances are against him,’ Alys said with a smile. ‘He will bid fair to rival Lady Basset for corpulence very soon, if he goes on at this rate.’
‘Eh, if I wasn’t forgetting.’ Mary dipped her hand into her apron pocket: ‘Saul’s brought this back for you, Miss Alys.’
‘Oh, a letter from Nell!’ She opened it eagerly, for although her friend’s descriptions of her London debut sometimes made her feel quite restless, they also provided a window on to a glittering and entirely different world.
When she had read and reread it several times, she sat down to answer it.
Dear Nell,
I am indeed grateful that despite all the distractions and gaieties of your first London season, you still find the time to write to me.
While I relished every detail of your descriptions, I was particularly interested in that of Lord Byron, who sounds to me as if he would blend very easily into my notions of a villain, which as you know are to date all based entirely on Lord Rayven.
And whilst we are on the subject of the infamous viscount, I am not at all surprised that he is viewed as such an eligible parti, since he has inherited a title, great estate, a town house and presumably a fortune.
But I am exceedingly amazed that he should come bang up to you at a rout, and have the insufferable insolence to ask after me!
He cannot have known that I told you the whole tale of our encounter by the river in Knaresborough – although unless you have learned to hide your blushes since we met, I dare say he has guessed as much now.
It was the most amazingly fortuitous circumstance, dear Nell, that you fell in love instantly with the very man already chosen for you by your family and whom you were determined to dislike.
He sounds very amiable and handsome, and altogether quite good enough to marry my only friend, and so I wish you very happy.
I hear from Mr Thomas Grimshaw, who is handling my business affairs – how grand that sounds!
– that the Minerva Press have rushed forward publication day and intend to puff off Malvina in the newspapers at any moment.
I do not expect much notice will be taken of it – but still, I find it all vastly exciting and look forward to the day when I can hold the published volumes in my hands.
Your affectionate friend,
Alys
*
‘ Through the dark cellars Liliana stumbled, praying to the Lord to deliver her from the foul designs of Lord Rothskent …’ read Alys, in thrilling accents.
‘I’ve never heard of anyone called Liliana,’ Miss Grimshaw commented mildly, looking up from her bottomless mending basket. ‘Where did you get the name from?’
‘I don’t know. It just popped into my head. Anyway, that is all beside the point. Does The Captive Bride of Castle Grismort not curdle your blood?’
‘Oh, yes, indeed, it is quite deliciously ghastly and gruesome. Do carry on and read me some more, Alys.’
‘There is not much more to read. I must get on and try and finish it while my name – or rather, that of Orlando Browne – is still fresh on everyone’s lips.’
Dear Nell,
I am quite taken aback by what you say, for I did not expect Malvina to make such a stir, nor that people would notice Lord Rayven’s resemblance to the villainous Raymundo Ravegnac.
Not that he doesn’t deserve it after insulting me so grossly, but he will never guess who the author is, thank goodness.
I suppose society must talk about something other than Bonaparte’s encroachments and the poor King’s state of health, and it might as well be my novel.
If it is a great success and sells many copies, who knows how much money Mr Grimshaw may secure for The Captive Bride of Castle Grismort , which is already well advanced?
I will be glad of every last little detail you can provide about my maternal relatives.
If my grandfather is very disagreeable, which is just what I expected from the way he behaved in casting off my mother, then Mrs Lavinia Hartwood, my great-uncle’s widow, sounds pleasant enough.
I am sorry that her daughter is still in the schoolroom, or you might have described her, too.
I will just have to make do with the son – and you wax so lyrical on the subject of Nathaniel Hartwood, Nell, that had your heart not been so securely claimed by another I would accuse you of having a decided tendre for him.
That he should also turn out to be the same handsome, fair man we saw so briefly in Harrogate, too!
The world of the ton is indeed a small one.
Your Aunt Becky is quite right in counselling you to have nothing to do with Lady Crayling. I could not sully your ears with half the things she writes to Lady Basset.
My warmest congratulations on your betrothal to Mr Rivers. He has been very frank and open with you about his rather wild youth, and earnest in his assurances that all that was behind him, but I do not suppose your grandfather would have promoted the match otherwise.
He is quite right in saying that he does not deserve you, dear Nell, but I feel sure of your future happiness.
Your affectionate friend,
Alys
*
Serle, Viscount Rayven, read the last chapter of The Travails of Lady Malvina with fascinated horror, then laid down the book and stared into space.
He had been told that the villain of the novel was his speaking likeness, and eventually curiosity had caused him to see for himself.
He supposed Raymundo Ravegnac’s appearance was not unlike his own, but there was no resemblance at all – he hoped!
– to his own character. He flicked back through the last pages: had it really been necessary to eviscerate Raymundo in such a gory and melodramatic way?
Had he not already been punished enough for the assaults on the heroine’s person, mainly through the resourceful inventiveness of Malvina herself?
And the fierce way she had pushed him into a ravine in the previous chapter …
He was reminded all at once of his encounter with Miss Weston in Knaresborough, when she had taken practical – and sudden – measures to dampen his ardour.
And the letter she had dropped, in which she had said that he was the very likeness of the villain of some tale she was writing …
although had she named that villain? It was too long ago to remember with any certainty.
No, the idea was too ludicrous! With a laugh he tossed the book aside: he must be mad to even suspect that any respectable young lady could be the author of such stuff, and in rejecting his advances so forcefully, respectable she had proved herself to be.
Dear Nell,
Or perhaps I should now address you as Mrs Rivers? I am glad that the Lakes lived up to your expectations.
Yes, do send me Mrs More’s Coelebs in Search of a Wife , although I have no expectation of its being anything other than sober and worthy.
Grismort is near completion and the Minerva Press are to reprint my first novel already, and are pressing me for the new one, so things go well.
I do not have any difficulty in keeping my writing from Papa, since he stays mainly in his bedchamber, but Letty is in a continual quake lest someone discover who Orlando Browne is.
Lady Basset adored The Travails of Lady Malvina . She rarely now leaves her room, for she has put on so much weight that she needs two stout servants to assist her to her feet.
Papa is following the news of our army’s movements in the newspapers and thinks he could order it all so much better himself, had he been in charge.
Your affectionate friend,
Alys
Dear Nell,
I do not know what I would do without your letters, especially since the sudden sad demise of Lady Basset who, despite any little shortcomings of manner and taste, was always kind and generous to me.