Page 37 of The Book of Lost Stories

Come to Grief

She could not doubt Sir Lemuel’s grief at finding his wife dead in such dreadful circumstances, for, despite his chilly manner, he had shown by many small attentions his affection for her.

Indeed, Drusilla had often marvelled at his patience with the irrational fancies that afflicted Lady Grosby and caused her to shrink away at his approach fearfully.

Death or Dishonour by ORLANDO brOWNE

It was with some trepidation that a servant woke George Rivers late next morning, although it was not so much the urgency of the letter in his hand that caused him to brave his master’s wrath, but the coins that had accompanied it.

George, who had come home alone in the early hours with little but a hazy memory of where he had been and what he had done after leaving the Hartwoods’ ball, was inclined to swear feebly, but on being told who had sent the note, sat up and held out a shaking hand.

‘Bring me a pick-me-up,’ he demanded, breaking the seal and opening the paper. ‘Peters knows how to do the trick.’ Then he focused his bloodshot eyes and read:

George,

The devil’s in it, for what must that madman Chase do but abduct one of the charity girls from the Red House for our private ceremonies after the Brethren meet tonight.

He told me of it as though it was the greatest jest imaginable, but this brings things too near home.

Already rumours are circulating, linking us with the other girls, and we should lie low for a while, for our meetings grow dangerous – but he will not listen to reason.

However, I am at Templeshore and have now spoken to the girl, who was half out of her wits and babbling with fear.

She told me that she was to come to your house tomorrow to learn to be a maid or some such to Miss Weston, and I see how I can turn that to my advantage.

Pray make sure that your wife is absent from home this afternoon, so that Miss Weston is alone and I will explain all later.

N. H.

George read the note twice before the meaning penetrated the fog in his mind, assisted by the rather noxious contents of a tankard proffered by his valet.

As he swallowed the last of it, his colour fluctuated through several ghastly hues and the outcome hung in the balance. Then he gave a great belch, which seemed to give him some relief, for he declared his intention to get up.

*

In the breakfast parlour the ladies had also been slow to rise, and equally heavy-eyed and quiet.

Nell had danced four times the previous evening with Harry Stavely, besides allowing him to take her in to supper and escort her home, after she discovered that George had already left with a group of cronies.

Her rashness in allowing herself the pleasure of his company would, she knew, have to be dearly paid for.

It was certain that it would come to her husband’s ears eventually and, although he might not love her any more – indeed, she thought he must hate her, to treat her so – he still had a dog-in-the-manger attitude where she was concerned.

Alys had not slept until some hours after Lord Rayven had seen her home, for her mind had insisted on going over and over the scene at the ball when Nat had made his advances and Lord Rayven had come to her rescue.

She could not make him out. He was kind one minute – and had he really said she looked pretty, or did she imagine that? – and terse the next.

He had been silent on the short drive back, seemingly deep in thought, only rousing himself to hand her down from the carriage and inform her that he would call on her next day on a matter of particular importance, when he hoped to find her alone.

The prospect had not seemed to give him any great pleasure.

She had replied equally coolly that he might not find her there, since she believed Mr Grimshaw had discovered just the house in York she was looking for and she meant to tell him to close the deal immediately, for she could not now wait to shake the dust of London from her feet.

Describing this exchange to Nell, she added, ‘And it would be best if I were not here when he comes, for I am in dread that he means to renew the offer he made to me in Knaresborough.’

Nell put down her coffee cup and stared at her. ‘Oh, no, surely you must be mistaken, for your situation now is so very different: your grandfather, the fact that you are staying here with me. No, I am convinced you are wrong.’

‘You saw how I was treated last night and, however much we deny the rumour, I think the taint will always now hang about me. Men will think of me as a woman of no virtue who positively expects their advances. I suppose I should be grateful that my cousin Nat offered me marriage, for I am quite ruined and only sorry I have involved you in such a scandal, Nell.’

‘Oh, nonsense. I am sure Miss Berry was perfectly right when she said you should laugh it away. It will be a seven-day wonder, you will see. And I dare say that Nat was carried away by his passion into pressing his suit more ardently than he should, and is sorry now.’

‘I sincerely hope he is.’

‘I still think you should stay and hear what Lord Rayven has to say, for it is my belief that he means to propose marriage to you. The alternative is unthinkable and I do not see what else of a particular nature he would wish to ask you.’

‘Marriage? Ha!’ Alys gave a hollow laugh.

‘I know what kind of wife he is looking for and in no way do I fit that ideal. He even said last night that he would have understood if Nat had strangled me rather than kissed me! No, I am sure any legal union is the last thing on his mind, or mine. He knows my opinion of marriage.’

Nell looked at her with a faint smile. ‘Do not cut off your nose to spite your face, Alys.’

‘I do not know what you mean—’ Alys had begun to say with dignity, when she was silenced by the unexpected appearance of George, a truly gruesome vision in a richly coloured dressing gown that contrasted horribly with his sickly pallor.

He sank down in his chair and, spurning the coffee pot, demanded brandy.

‘This early in the morning, George?’ Nell said timidly. ‘Do you not think—’

‘When I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it,’ he snarled, and Nell looked away, biting her lip.

Her eye fell on a letter that had lain unnoticed by her plate. Glad of some distraction from the unusual and sullen presence of her husband, she broke the wafer, opened it and read, her face gradually paling.

‘Oh, Alys, it is from Miss Slade at the Red House. She says that Sarah is missing and has been since yesterday.’

‘Missing? Can I see?’

Mutely Nell passed over the letter.

‘Sent to deliver a message late yesterday afternoon, and not returned by nightfall. They have searched and can find no trace of her …’ Alys looked up. ‘What can have happened to her? I do not like this in the least.’

George, who had downed his brandy and was now sitting slumped in his chair, looked up at this. ‘Who is this Sarah?’

‘One of the young boarders at the Red House in Kew,’ explained Nell. ‘You must have heard me talk of them. Indeed, I mentioned to you that Sarah was to come here for Jane to train as a lady’s maid.’

‘I dare say she has run off,’ he answered indifferently.

‘Oh, no, I am sure she would not. I will send for Sammy, for they were particular friends and he might be able to shed some light on the matter.’

But Sammy, although distressed at the news, could not help them.

‘Might she have gone to visit her mother, do you think?’ asked Nell.

‘No, she would not go all that way alone, and besides, she was mightily pleased to be coming here tomorrow to learn to be a lady’s maid to Miss Alys,’ he said.

‘You may be right, but perhaps you had better go to her mother’s lodgings and see if she is there.

If she is, do tell her not to be nervous about her reception when she comes back; we will not be cross with her.

But if you do not find her there, do not worry her mother unduly, for I expect she will have been found by now.

There must be some simple explanation, such as a twisted ankle. ’

‘Yes, for she did not seem at all the sort of girl to run off,’ Alys agreed.

‘All this fuss over a street urchin, who is probably no better than she should be!’ George slammed down his glass.

‘But she is just turned fourteen, and a good, reliable girl, George,’ Nell said quietly. ‘That is why we are so anxious. I think, Alys, we had better drive out to Kew and see if there is any sign of her yet, and if—’

‘You have forgotten,’ George interrupted, ‘you are to spend the afternoon with my godmother, Lady Mersham.’

‘I do not think we picked on any particular day, for I may go any afternoon, you know, and I am persuaded, when she learns the reason—’

‘There must be no excuses; I insist upon you going,’ he said flatly.

‘But, George—’

Seeing the thunderous expression dawning on her host’s face, Alys intervened quickly.

‘Yes, do go to Lady Mersham, Nell, for I am sure she will be very disappointed if you do not. I can very well go out to Kew myself.’

‘But do not go alone. You must wait for Sammy to come back, at least.’

‘Very well, if it will make you feel happier. It will all probably prove to be a storm in a teacup and I will find her there safe and sound.’

‘I hope so indeed,’ Nell said, glancing nervously at George, who now seemed to have lost interest in the subject.

*

Jarvis was hanging about outside the Rivers’ residence, mightily bored.

However, he knew better than to forsake his post and risk Lord Rayven’s wrath.

Very particular he was, where Miss Weston was concerned, he thought indulgently, although to his way of thinking that time she was near run down by a carriage was the merest accident; and as for poisoning, well, he could not see himself why anyone should want to harm the young lady.

He watched Mrs Rivers drive off alone and her husband, who looked the worse for wear, soon follow.