Christine Merrill - Lady Priscilla’s Shameful Secret

‘Then we will allow him to make that decision.’

‘I have not said yes.’

Veronica was across the room in a moment, her hands in Priss’s hair to pull her gaze up to meet her. ‘Perhaps your father might permit your wilfulness, but we have seen where that led. When the time is right, you will say yes, like any sensible girl, because, my lady, in a few months there will be no space for you in this house. I will need your room for a nursery.’

‘There are a dozen rooms that will suit just as well,’ Priss said, glaring back at her and feeling the claws tightening against her scalp.

‘But I favour the light in yours,’ Veronica said with a small tight smile. ‘You will be out of this house and you will be thankful that we are sending you to such a fortunate marriage and not out into the street as you deserve. But you will not be allowed to remain here, courting further disgrace. I will not let a girl who does not have the sense to keep her legs closed associate with children of mine.’ She released Priss’s head with a jerk that cracked her neck.

And then Veronica was smiling again. ‘Come, my dear. We will go to Bond Street and buy you a trousseau.’

John Hendricks owned an unassuming house in an equally humble neighbourhood. Robert scolded himself for the assessment, remembering that he’d have thought no such thing before the title had foisted on him the various entailed properties in all their grandeur. There was nothing really wrong with this place, although he wondered what Lady Drusilla made of it, after living as Benbridge’s daughter.

He knocked upon the door; when it opened, he announced himself and pushed his way past the housekeeper, tossing his gloves into his hat and giving her his most aloof ducal glare. Then he demanded to be shown to the receiving room, or whatever place was deemed best for a meeting with Mr Hendricks.

He watched the servant melt before him with a subservient curtsy. ‘I will get him immediately, your Grace.’

Of course she would. It was late for an uninvited call, of course. Not the thing to arrive at a man’s house without some kind of warning. But now that he was ‘his Grace’ instead of plain old Mr Magson, the rules no longer applied.

Sometimes, he rather missed the rules. Dammit, he liked Hendricks. At least a lot more than he liked being Reighland and throwing his weight around. But today there would be no more pussyfooting about the truth. He wanted answers and he wanted them now, before his own native foolishness overcame good sense and he continued to press his suit on a girl who was showing every sign of being completely inappropriate. Even in his worst and least confident days, he’d had more sense than to chase after the leavings of other men when seeking a wife.

‘Your Grace?’ Hendricks stood in the doorway of his own home, offering an unironic bow as though it were he who had entered unexpectedly. ‘How might I be of assistance?’

‘You can leave off bowing at me, for one thing,’ Robert muttered, unable to control the impulse. ‘You might well want to bounce me out into the street when you hear why I have come. The respectful greeting will only make that more difficult.’

‘Perhaps,’ said Hendricks, with the faintest lift of an eyebrow. ‘But we will not know until you have made your request.’

‘Tell me about Benbridge’s younger daughter. And not the nonsense you were spouting at the party. I want the truth this time.’

‘It really is not my place—’ Hendricks began.

‘Yours as much as anyone else’s. I will have the story in the end. She’s already told me the more interesting half of it. The girl is no longer a maid.’

Hendricks sucked his breath in between his teeth in a sudden hiss, but said nothing.

‘If the circumstances mitigate the truth, I should like to know it now. Who? When? Why? And who else knows of it? I heard rumours of an elopement with a dancing master. But I refuse to base my decisions based on tittle-tattle from gossiping old ladies. Any accurate information you can provide about Lady Priscilla will be welcome.’

Hendricks rose and went to the door of the sitting room, glancing into the hall to be sure that they were alone, before shutting it. ‘I would rather my wife not hear what we are discussing. It is a sensitive subject in the family as you can imagine. Dru was charged with watching the girl and feels quite responsible for anything that might have happened. And I do not know the most intimate details, of course. It was several days before we caught up with the couple. The situation might not be as dire as you make it out.’

‘I make nothing of it,’ Robert said. ‘It is Priscilla who seems sure of events. She should know them, if no one else does.’

Hendricks swallowed. ‘And I can trust that, since I am speaking to the Duke of Reighland, the story will travel no further than this room.’ The statement was obvious and unnecessary. Apparently, Hendricks did not trust him to keep the secret, without reminding him that he was a gentleman. It rankled.

He swallowed his pride, reminding himself that the man before him was near to Benbridge’s family, no matter what the old earl might think of him. Then he responded, ‘You have my word. I mean the girl no harm. But neither am I some poor gull in a country market, willing to buy a horse with bishoped teeth and piping lungs. An alliance between Benbridge and myself would be useful. But there is the succession to think of.’

‘You think you might still consider her a suitable choice, after knowing the truth?’ Hendricks pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose as though seeking a better look at him.

‘I am here, aren’t I? Most men would be gone already.’ Men smarter than himself, perhaps. But he had taken a liking to her and there was no reasoning with his first impression. He was still half-hoping that Hendricks would tell him he had misheard the girl. Or that he was the victim of some horribly unfunny joke. ‘I have no real proof that Lady Priscilla will have me. Although she would be a fool to turn down the offer, she is resisting.’

‘Priss is not known for her foresight,’ Hendricks said drily.

‘Obviously.’

‘But if you mean to pursue her, then you shall have all I know of it.’ Hendricks moved into the room, gesturing to a chair and offering port, before taking a seat himself. It was a decent wine and a comfortable chair. Robert appreciated the gesture, which seemed sincere, and not an effort to get on his right side for some gain later. If Hendricks was the climber he appeared to be, he was subtle and not some common sycophant.

Hendricks began. ‘Late last summer, I met Lady Drusilla Roleston in a mail coach on the way to Gretna Green. She was seeking word of her sister, who had eloped with a dancing master named Gervaise. I offered my assistance. We caught the couple before they crossed the border and I dispensed with the fellow.’

‘Permanently?’

Hendricks laughed. ‘Hardly. He ran off with little encouragement, when he saw that he was more likely to come away with a beating than any money. Without guarantee of settlement, he had no real desire to take the girl for a wife.’

‘So there was no real affection between them?’

‘I cannot speak for man or girl. I can only report what I observed. Although Priss made a fuss at the time, she was over it by the next morning. It did not appear to me that either of them was broken hearted at the parting. I brought the sisters back to London safely and made my offer for Drusilla. Benbridge showed no desire to hear it. But Dru was willing, even though it meant an estrangement from her family.’

‘How many days was Lady Priscilla unchaperoned?’