Stephanie Barron - Jane and the Madness of Lord Byron

“Sir! You forget yourself!” Henry said fiercely.

Hanger’s eyes narrowed. “Think you’re entitled to teach me conduct, do you?” He stepped pugnaciously towards my brother. “And what if I slapped your face with my glove, you damnable mushroom? Would you accept the honour of my acquaintance then? The girl encouraged my attentions, if you must know — and led the way to this secluded spot!”

Henry stiffened, and I feared for the issue. “Sir, your imputations are insupportable! Pray step outside, where we may discuss this in greater privacy!”

Hanger strode like a bantam cock towards a pair of great iron doors that let out from the Conservatory onto the Pavilion’s grounds. “Lead on, my fine fellow! I should be happy to draw your cork for you!”

I looked in desperation to Lord Moira, who shouldered his way between my brother and his unusual adversary. “George, if you do not take care, you will bring all of Brighton down upon us — and I cannot think you wish that! You have too many creditors among the townsfolk, ha! ha! And in any case — His Highness sent me in search of you. He desires you to attend him in the Blue Saloon.”

“Does he, indeed?” Hanger eyed poor Catherine, huddled under my wing, with hungry chagrin. “I had forgot what I was about. It was the Regent who was wild to make your acquaintance, my dove, only I tarried too long in presenting you. But don’t cry — we shall have other opportunities — and the Prince was never one for little girls, nor dark-haired ones, neither. He prefers them billowy and blond. I should know — I was ever Prinny’s procurer.”

“George,” Lord Moira breathed warningly. “Have a care!”

Hanger smirked. “You’re a diplomat born, Francis, for all you’re so hopeless at cards. You’ll do very well among the savages and Nabobs — you shall indeed. I wish you at Bengal right now, truth be told; or at the Devil — whichever you will. It’s all one to me.”

“I dare swear you’re foxed, George,” Lord Moira returned despairingly.

Hanger bowed in Catherine’s direction. “Pleasure, Miss Twining — one I hope to have often repeated.”

Henry surged forward, but I placed a restraining hand on his arm; we could not endure a meeting at dawn with such an opponent. Hanger might very well be foxed — his whole person reeked of brandy — and Henry might have the advantage of him in years; but the Colonel was known for an excellent shot. Catherine Twining’s honour was not my brother’s to defend.

As Hanger swung out of the Conservatory with the arrogant stride of a man half his age, Lord Moira, without requiring to be told, had the good sense to draw Henry aside and speak to him very sensibly on the subject of our late Eliza. I busied myself with tucking up Miss Twining’s torn lace, using the least number of pins.

“How came you to be in such a sad case?” I enquired in a lowered tone. “Where is your father? Why are you all unprotected?”

“I am here at the invitation of a neighbour,” she murmured, “Mrs. Silchester. I do not think she knows where I am. It was she who introduced me to the Colonel, at his particular request. He said he wished to present me to the Regent. I am sure Mrs. Silchester thought there could be no objection. Only that odious man carried me directly here, where I am sure the Regent has not been at all!”

“You ought not to have walked off with a strange gentleman alone, Miss Twining. That is considered to be very fast , you know. Let us hope it has not excited comment.”

I glanced up, and discovered tears on the poor girl’s face. I added firmly, “Tho’ in such a crush, how could the movements of any one person be remarked upon? I am sure we need not refine too much upon events. Dry your eyes, lest Mrs. Silchester be in a quake, and escort you home too soon to your papa! You would not wish him to receive you in moping looks! But I am glad to know he allowed you to come this evening — he was so very stern when we met at the Camp, with his talk of beatings and locked doors. Shall I restore you to your party?”

“Oh, yes,” the child said gratefully. She slipped her hand through my arm. Her thin shoulders, bare in her evening dress, heaved as with a sudden chill. “Is this not a dreadful place, Miss Austen? And yet the World would have it the Pavilion is everything great! I shall not recall it with anything but disgust. So hot and so crowded — and the people one meets are not at all kind, except for you! I confess I have the headache. I wish I might go home — ”

“And so you shall, as soon as we achieve Mrs. Silchester,” I soothed.

NOT LONG AFTER THE INCIDENT IN THE CONSERVATORY, Henry and I quitted the Regent’s pleasure dome — having at last submitted to Lord Moira’s persistent desire to present us to his crony. The man who would one day be King of England took my hand, patted it earnestly if absentmindedly, and remarked to the Earl that he could not abide to see a woman go in mourning — it made him feel quite low, in thinking of all the good friends lost in recent years. His Royal Highness took my brother’s blacks in better part — as a banker and thus a possible source of funds, Henry should be an invaluable friend did the Regent’s luck at faro turn sour. Henry treated the great man’s notice with surprising circumspection, betraying a caution I had not thought him equal to; and so we parted without regret from the Royal Presence, feeling we had attained every sensation of body and spirit the Pavilion could offer.

I did not see Desdemona, Lady Swithin again — a disappointment — but was permitted a brief glimpse of Catherine Twining, departing in the train of a frail woman dressed in lavender silk with many flowing veils; Mrs. Silchester, no doubt.

“I rather wonder about your protégée, Jane,” Henry observed as we crossed the Steyne once more towards the Castle Inn, and our longed-for beds. “That chit has a positive genius for landing in scandal with some of the most notorious men in England; and yet I swear there’s not the slightest calculation behind it!”

“She is too much of a goosecap for calculation , Henry.”

“Even the unintelligent may seek the world’s notice. Perhaps Miss Twining craves flattery — excitement — the sensations of a broader world. Perhaps she dreams of treading the boards on the London stage, and Brighton is her apprentice-play!”

“Surely not!”

“You persist in believing her a wide-eyed innocent?”

“She suggests nothing else!” I protested.

“ — Tho’ we found her on the verge of ravishment for the second time in two days? I wonder,” he repeated. “Is Miss Twining a mere fawn — or a cunning puss, as shrewd as she can hold together?”

I stopped short before the Castle door. “What has the poor girl done, to inspire such enmity?”

“Required me to defend her honour, at the risk of several duels, among a party of fellows with whom I am not the least acquainted!”

I could not subdue a smile. “Henry! Such Corinthian airs!”

“Be serious, Jane — I am uneasy at something Hanger said: that he had ever acted as the Prince’s procurer, and was charged with presenting Miss Twining to the Regent.… Can it be so? Or was it invention, designed to shirk responsibility? How has such a meek little mouse drawn such a riot of notice?”

“For all she is so young and unformed, she will be a Beauty, Henry,” I quietly replied. “Have you not observed it? Her skin, like porcelain; her features, all excellent — and the depth of innocence in those wide, dark eyes — her artless wonder at the Great World — Miss Twining is all that is enchanting! How else should she have ensnared both the greatest Prince and the greatest Poet of our age?”