Mary Nichols - Talk of the Ton

‘Take you to your uncle, the Duke.’

‘Oh, no! He will give me a roasting.’

‘And do you not think you deserve it?’

‘Perhaps.’

‘There is no perhaps about it. But I cannot take you all the way to Sudbury. That would mean being in each other’s company throughout the night and even you must agree that would not be the thing. It would only need someone to see you, someone to ask questions about your absence from home, someone to recognise the Melhurst carriage, for the tattlers to start work on your reputation and my good name.’

‘You could put me on a coach.’

‘I have told you no.’ His answer was almost snapped. He would be every sort of bounder if he did that. His conscience would not allow it.

‘Supposing I insist?’

‘Insist away. I shall not allow you to leave this vehicle until we are safely at Belfont House.’

She fell silent, thinking of her uncle. He had been cross enough when he had seen her in her male clothes in the garden at home—he would be furious knowing she had ventured abroad thus dressed. ‘If it must be Belfont House,’ she said, ‘could you contrive to speak to my Aunt Sophie and not the Duke? She will help me, I know. I have heard she was once a little unconventional herself, before she married my uncle, that is.’

‘Because I do not think I should like to see you roasted, I will endeavour to do as you ask, but I make no promises and, if her Grace should deem it necessary to send for the Duke, I shall have nothing to say on the matter. After all, I do not know whether you make a habit of disappearing dressed as a male and if your family are out of patience with you.’

‘I don’t. I have never done it before.’ She paused and added softly, ‘Thank you, sir.’

They spent the remainder of the short journey talking about travel, about where he had been and the sights he had seen, the heat and smells of India. When she asked about plant hunting, he told her that it was far from a stroll in the garden; it needed meticulous planning and provisioning, with hired guides and porters and, if one was sensible, a medical man because bites, scratches, falls and bad food were commonplace. And that did not take into account the voyage, which might be beset by storms or being becalmed. If he thought that might put her off the idea, he was wrong, but she did admit that if she travelled it would have to be in a properly conducted party with a knowledgeable escort. ‘Though how that can be arranged I do not know,’ she said. ‘Toby said I should marry a rich man—’ She stopped suddenly, realising what she had said.

‘That would indeed be the solution,’ he said, noting her discomfort, but pretending he did not. ‘All the more reason to go ahead with your come-out, don’t you think?’

She sighed, knowing he was right, but determined that her dreams of travel would not influence her choice of husband. If there was a choice, of course. She might be considered too much of a hoyden to attract the sort of man who inhabited the drawing rooms of the ton. That was why she was so fond of Toby; he took her as she was.

It was completely dark when the carriage drew to a halt outside a large mansion in South Audley Street, but here there were street lights and lanterns alight at each side of the imposing front door. ‘Stay out of sight,’ he commanded her. ‘While I see how the land lies.’

He jumped down and strode to the door and knocked. The duty footman must have heard the carriage because the door was opened almost immediately. ‘I wish to speak to the Duchess,’ Andrew said. ‘On a matter of some importance.’

The footman looked him up and down, as if wondering if he ought to admit a lone caller so late at night. ‘Your name, sir?’

‘Melhurst. Mr Andrew Melhurst.’

‘I will see if her Grace is at home, Mr Melhurst, but without an appointment…’ He allowed his voice to fade to nothing.

‘It is of the utmost importance.’

The man ushered him in, then turned and slowly and deliberately climbed the cantilevered staircase with its ornate cast-iron balustrade to the first floor, while Andrew stood and fumed. He hoped Miss Harley would not take it into her head to leave the carriage. The house was one of a row and she could be been seen by neighbours if they should happen to glance out of a window. And there were people in the street going about their business. He had no idea how well known she was in the neighbourhood.

A few minutes later, the servant returned. ‘Please follow me, Mr Melhurst.’

The Duchess received him in a first-floor drawing room of elegant proportions. He bowed, surprised to see how young she was, twenty-seven or eight at the most, he decided. ‘Mr Melhurst, has something happened to the Duke?’ she asked, her voice betraying her anxiety. ‘Do tell me quickly, for I cannot bear the suspense.’

‘No, your Grace, I have never met the Duke. It is concerning your niece, Miss Harley.’

Her obvious relief was followed by concern. ‘Beth? If you have come to make an offer for her, Mr Melhurst, then I suggest you apply to the Duke in the morning. It is late—’

‘You mistake me, your Grace. I have not come to offer for her. I have her in my carriage outside this house. She has, I regret to say, fallen into a bumblebath, from which I am endeavouring to rescue her. She needs a safe haven—’

‘She has never run away from home. Oh, dear, the foolish girl…’

‘She assures me that was not her intention.’

‘Why did you leave her outside? Fetch her in at once.’

‘She is anxious not to encounter the Duke, but I collect he is from home.’

‘Yes, but that is not to say he will not be told.’

He bowed. ‘That, your Grace, is for you to decide. I am merely bringing her home. Could I ask for a cloak? It would not be sensible for her to be seen entering the house as she is.’

‘Mr Melhurst, you alarm me. What is the matter with her?’

‘Nothing, but she is dressed as a young man.’

To his surprise she started to laugh. ‘Oh, dear, I know she likes to do that at home in her garden and very fetching she looks too, but if you are bringing her home you must have found her somewhere else. Unless she inveigled you into her mischief?’

‘I am relieved you do not think it was the other way about, your Grace. And she did not inveigle me. On the contrary, she fought to get away. I could not allow that. The docks are hardly the place for well brought-up young ladies, especially at night.’

‘Did you say docks, Mr Melhurst?’

‘Yes, the East India docks. That was where I found her, looking for a young man called Toby Kendall.’

‘Oh, now I begin to see. The Duke financed Mr Kendall’s ambition to become a plant hunter. Surely she did not think she could go too? Oh, the foolish, foolish girl. But we must not leave her sitting outside. Please wait here, while I fetch her.’

Before he could find a suitable reply to tell her he would leave as soon as Miss Harley was safely indoors, she had sailed from the room in a froth of silk and lace. He paced the room, looking at the ornaments and pictures. The pictures were mostly by modern artists like Turner, Girtin, Constable and Lawrence, though there was a Gainsborough, which he assumed was of an earlier Duke and his family. A couple of classical vases on a shelf he recognised as Wedgwood. Miss Harley definitely came from a well-breeched family. She was undoubtedly spoiled, though if he were honest he would have to admit that she had a lively mind and an articulate way of expressing herself. In the short ride from the docks he had been more entertained than he had been for some time.

He heard the front door shut and voices in the hall, and then the Duchess, smiling broadly, put her head round the door. ‘I am going to take Miss Harley upstairs and hand her over to my maid. Please don’t go away. I haven’t thanked you properly.’ And, for a second time, she disappeared before he could politely take his leave.