Ann Lethbridge - Regency Society

‘You are right,’ Adrian said at last. ‘If there is any truth at all, or any explanation that can be made, I should have asked her for it, rather than trusting the man who wants nothing more than to ensure that I do not have a child. And I think I understand your reasons for leaving me as well.’ For how awkward would it be if Adrian apologised to his wife and they all went back to Derbyshire together. The two of them, living side by side in the same house, both loving the same woman? And all the worse for Hendricks, forced to witness their happiness, and to know that though Adrian was his equal in ability and his inferior in temperament, he had the superior rank, and the unwavering love of his countess.

He put the thoughts of Emily aside for the moment and said, ‘You will have letters of reference, of course. And anything you might need.’

‘I have already written them.’

Adrian laughed. ‘I expected no less from you. You are damned efficient, when you set about to do something.’ He stepped over the bottle on the floor and gripped the man by the hand. ‘I trust that I was effusive in my praise of you. And generous in my severance?’

‘Of course, my lord.’

‘I expected nothing less of me. You have been invaluable as an aide. And you shall always be welcome in my house, as a guest, should you ever wish to return there.’

‘I do not think I will be back for some time,’ Hendricks said. ‘If things go as I expect, you will be too busy for company, at least until after the new year.’

‘Next year, then. The fishing is good in the run at Folbroke. You still fancy trout, do you not?’

‘I do indeed, my lord.’

‘Then you must be sure that the money I give to you in parting is enough so that you might live comfortably on it for twelve months and then visit me as a man of leisure before taking another post. I will not take no for an answer.’

‘Of course, my lord.’ It would have felt deuced odd to touch the man’s face, after all these years. But suddenly, as though there had been a change between them, it was hard to read any truth in Hendricks’s words. Adrian had heard the worry and frustration plain in the man’s voice for so long that the sudden absence of it was like a void in the room. It had been foolish of him to think that there could ever be mockery or cruel deception. ‘Hendricks, I am sorry. I understand that I have not been an easy master …’

‘Lord Folbroke. There is no need—’

He held up a hand to forestall the man’s excuses. ‘It is true. But there will be no more nonsense after today. If you mean to leave me in the hands of my good wife, I will be an amiable man and not trouble her unnecessarily.’

‘Very good, my lord.’ There was blessed relief in the man’s voice, as though he had given him compensation beyond money in that one little plan.

‘Of course, I shall have to square things away again, after the mess I’ve just made of this interview.’ He dropped out the statement in the most offhand way possible, as though the entire staff had not heard the argument that had just ensued. ‘Eston has taken her back to his town house, I assume?’

‘I believe so, sir. I could send for her, if you wish.’

‘No, that is quite all right. I will go to her.’

‘I will have the carriage brought round.’

‘No.’ An idea had suddenly occurred to him. ‘It is less than a mile from here. And the night is clear, is it not?’

‘Yes, my lord.’

‘Then I shall walk.’

‘I will have a footman accompany you.’

Adrian stood and reached out to grip his old friend’s arm. ‘If you mean to leave me to my own devices, then I will have to learn to do without you.’ Although damned if he knew how. ‘The streets are not crowded. And I remember the way. I will go alone.’

‘Very good, sir.’ There was only a trace of doubt in Hendricks’s voice, which Adrian took to mean that he was not suggesting something beyond the realm of possibility. It was something he had never tried, of course. But his sight was unlikely to get any better. It was high time he learned to navigate the city. They walked together into the front hall, and instead of Parker coming to aid him, he felt the familiar hands of Hendricks helping him into his topcoat and handing him his hat and gloves. Then the door opened, and he sent Adrian on his way with a pat on the back.

And almost as an afterthought, there came from behind him a soft, ‘Take care of her, Adrian.’

‘I mean to, John.’ Then he walked down the steps to the pavement and set out into what might as well have been a wilderness, for all he knew of it.

Four steps down, to the street. He felt the edge of the kerb with his cane and stepped a little back from it. And now, a left. It would be two roads down in this direction, he remembered, before turning onto the busier street ahead. He listened closely as he set out, to gauge his surroundings. It was more difficult in darkness than it might have been in the light, for he could not use the rays of the sun to set a direction.

But for this first trip, it was better to be out when the way was not so crowded. He heard a single walker on the other side of the street from him, and remembered that he would have to be cautious of footpads and cutpurses. Though the areas he travelled were good ones, not all that ventured out after dark could be trusted.

He tapped ahead of him with his stick, to make sure there were no obstacles, and set out at a pace that was slower than normal, but still little different from a stroll. He almost stumbled, as the pavement gave way in another kerb. But then he caught himself and stood, looking both ways for changes in the shadows that obscured his sight, and listening for the sound of horses’ hooves and the rattle of carts or carriages.

When he was sure there was nothing, he made sure his course was straight, stepped forwards, and made an uneventful crossing, gaining the opposite side. He proceeded for a little while longer in the same fashion, before everything began to go wrong.

He could hear the increase of traffic around him as the way became busier. While most passers-by gave him a safe space to walk in, he was occasionally jostled and forced to adjust his pace to those around him. The changes in speed made it harder to keep a straight course, and the corner seemed to come much sooner than he expected. Had he passed two or three streets?

Suddenly, he felt a hand, light as a moth’s touch, on the pocket that held his purse.

He caught the tiny wrist easily in the fingers of his left hand. ‘Here, you. What are you about?’

‘Please, sir. I didn’t mean nothing.’ A child. A girl? No. A boy. He was sure of it; though the wrist he held was bony, it did not feel delicate, and the sleeve that it jutted from was rough wool.

‘You just choose to walk with your hand in my pocket, then? No more of this nonsense, boy. You meant to have my purse. And now the Runners shall have you.’

‘Please, sir …’ there was the loud, wet sniff of a child who was near tears and with a perpetual cold ‘… I didn’t mean any harm. And I was hungry.’

‘And I am blind, not stupid. And certainly not as insensate as you expected. I am much harder to sneak up upon, because I pay better attention to small things such as you.’ He gave a frustrated sigh to persuade the boy that he was serious in his intent, but not without sympathy. Then he said, ‘If you want to avoid the law, then you had best prove your worth. I am walking to St James’s Square. Do you know the way?’

‘Yes, sir. Of course.’

‘Then take my hand and lead me the rest of the distance. Keep a sharp eye out and steer me clear of any pickpockets. And I will know if you lead me wrong, so do not try it, or it will be off to the Runners with you.’ Then he pretended to soften. ‘But if you lead me right, there will be a shilling for you, and a nice dinner.’ And at the sound of another sniff, he added, ‘And a clean handkerchief.’