Джорджетт Хейер - April Lady

She had stood quite still, neither flinching from the ugly shafts aimed at her, nor making any further attempt to speak. She was very white, but although she heard what was being said to her she hardly attended to it. He was saying such terrible things, but he did not know the truth: he was saying those things to some creature who did not exist, not to her. It hurt her that he could so misjudge her, but she never thought of blaming him. Just so had she misjudged Dysart, and with far less cause.

“Well? Why do you hesitate? Or don’t you know what I’m worth?”

She looked at him, and saw a stranger. She couldn’t tell him all the truth while this black mood held him, much less disclose to him the shocking suspicion in her own heart. In the end he might have to know that too, but it was not certain yet. But if a worse disaster than he knew threatened him there might still be yet time to avert it. Only she must not waste precious moments in trying to justify herself, or expose Dysart and Letty to the white heat of his anger. Later she would tell him, but not now, when her own part in the affair had suddenly become a matter of very little importance beside what might well prove to be Letty’s.

She tried to speak, and found that she had too little command over her voice. He was still watching her with those hard, angry eyes. That hurt her, and made tears spring to her own. She winked them away, and managed to say, with a pathetic attempt at a smile wavering on her lips: “I can’t answer you, you s-see. Later, I will. Not now!”

She went rather blindly towards the door. His voice checked her, even startled her a little. “No, come back! I didn’t mean it, Nell! I didn’t mean it!”

He took a quick stride toward her, only to be brought up short by the opening of the door, and the entrance of his butler.

“I beg your lordship’s pardon!” Farley said apologetically.

“Well, what is it?” Cardross snapped.

“I thought you would wish to know, my lord, that Sir John Somerby called to see your lordship ten minutes ago. He is waiting in the saloon.”

“Tell him I will be with him presently!”

“No, please go to him now!” Nell said gently, and left the room without again looking at him.

She went swiftly up the stairs, past her own rooms, and up another flight to Letty’s. Martha, running up two minutes later, in answer to the summons of a bell clanging so wildly that it was plain its pull had been tugged with peremptory vigour, found her standing in the middle of the room, and quailed under the sternly accusing look in her eyes. “Oh, my lady! I didn’t know it was your ladyship!”

“Where is your mistress, Martha?”

With the instinct of her kind to admit nothing, Martha said defensively: “I’m sure I couldn’t say, my lady.”

“Indeed! Then will you come down, if you please, to his lordship,” Nell said calmly, gathering up her half-train and moving towards the door.

That was enough to induce Martha, in a panic, to tell all she knew. It was not very much. She had indeed accompanied Letty to Bond Street that afternoon, where they had met Selina Thorne. Letty had sent her home then, saying that she would go with her cousin to Bryanston Square, and her aunt would convey her home later in her carriage.

“Was Mrs. Thorne with Miss Selina?” Nell demanded.

“Oh yes, my lady!” Martha said, a little too glibly.

“Did you see her?”

Martha hesitated, but the unwavering blue gaze disconcerted her, and she muttered that Miss Selina had said she was in Hookham’s.

“I see. At what hour was this?”

“I—I don’t know, my lady! Not to say precisely! It waswhen my Lord Dysart was with your ladyship that we stepped out.”

“Lord Dysart left this house before two o’clock. It is now half-past six, but Lady Letitia hasn’t returned, and you felt no anxiety?”

“I thought—I thought it was her ladyship that rang for me!”

Nell’s eyes swept the room. “But you have not laid out her ball-dress?”

“Her ladyship said—perhaps she should not go to the Assembly, my lady! She said—not to get in a pucker if she was late, or to say anything to anyone, except that she was gone to Mrs. Thorne’s, but she didn’t tell me more! On my truth and honour she didn’t, my lady!”

“You must have known, however, that she didn’t mean to return. No, don’t tell me lies, if you please! Lady Letitia does not take her brushes and combs and her toothpowder when she goes shopping.”

Martha burst into tears, sobbing that she had not known, that her ladyship had given her a parcel to carry, saying it contained some things she meant to give to Miss Selina. Yes, it was quite a large bundle, but she didn’t know what was in it; her ladyship had packed it herself, and never told her; and she would happily lay down her life for her ladyship, particularly when the dear angel was being made so miserable as never was, and not a soul to turn to but one who had served her from the cradle, as it were.

“That will do. I think you have acted this part with the intention of doing your mistress a service, and did not mean to help her to do anything that would bring down the most dreadful consequences on her. But if she has indeed eloped you will have done her the worst turn that lay in your power. I hope she has not—indeed, I believe that Mr. Allandale has a greater regard for her reputation than you have shown. I don’t know what I may be obliged to tell his lordship: that must depend on whether I can find her ladyship, and bring her safely home. And also, a little, on your conduct now.”

The terrified Martha, eyes starting from her head, and teeth chattering, began to gasp out promises of abject obedience, but Nell cut short her protestations, saying: “Stop crying, and listen to me! I am going immediately to Mrs. Thorne’s, and if I find your mistress there, or can discover from Miss Selina where she may have gone, perhaps no one need know what has taken place today. So you will not speak of this to anyone. Do you understand me? If you should be asked where I am, you must say that you don’t know. Now go downstairs again and desire Sutton to come to my bedchamber, if you please!”

Sutton, entering her room five minutes later, in the expectation of helping her to change her dress, found her clad for the street, in her bonnet and a light pelisse. Before she could give expression to her surprise, Nell said coolly: “Sutton, it is very vexatious, but I am obliged to go out. I don’t know how long I may be.” She raised her eyes from the gloves she was drawing over her fingers, and said: “Perhaps you may guess my errand. I am persuaded I can rely on your discretion, if that is so.”

“Your ladyship may always do so. But if, as I fancy is the case, you are going to find Lady Letitia, I beg you will permit me to accompany you.”

“Thank you. It is unnecessary, however. I—have a particular reason for wishing you to remain here. I am very reluctant to let it be known to anyone—if Lady Letitia has done something foolish which—which perhaps I may be able to mend!”

“I understand you perfectly, my lady. My lips shall be sealed, come what may!” announced Sutton, in prim accents, but with the resolute mien of one bound for the torture chamber.

“Well, I don’t think anything very dreadful will come of it,” said Nell, smiling faintly. “His lordship doesn’t dine at home tonight, so perhaps he will not enquire for me. But if he should do so, could you say that you suppose me to have gone out to dinner? He won’t ask then where Lady Letitia is, because he will think she must be with me.”

“Certainly, my lady. He shall learn nothing from me.”

“I am very much obliged to you. One other thing: can you, do you think, contrive to draw George out of the hall so that he doesn’t see me leave the house? He would think it odd, and perhaps talk of it, you know.”

“Very likely, my lady! I will step downstairs immediately, and desire him to fetch up your ladyship’s dressing-case from the boxroom,” said Sutton with aplomb.

“But what in the world should I want it for?” Nell objected.

“That, my lady, is none of George’s business!” replied Sutton coldly.

Whatever George may have thought, the ruse proved successful. There was no one in the hall to see Nell slip out of the house; and no one within earshot when she softly shut the front-door behind her. She heaved a sigh of relief, and set off quickly in the direction of the nearest hackney-coach stand.

Mrs. Thorne’s butler, opening the door to Nell in time to see the hackney which had brought her to Bryanston Square move slowly away, was very much surprised that her ladyship should have deigned to enter such a lowly vehicle, but she had expected that he would be, and told him in the easiest way that her carriage had suffered a slight accident. He seemed satisfied with this explanation, but when she asked for his mistress he was obliged to tell her that Madam had retired to her room to change her dress for dinner.

“Then, if you please, be so good as to ask your mistress if I may go up to her,” said Nell, as though it were the most natural thing in the world for a lady of quality to arrive in a common hackney half-an-hour before dinner-time, wearing a morning-dress, and coolly demanding to be taken up to her hostess’s bedroom. The butler looked doubtful, but he went to deliver this message, returning almost immediately to beg her ladyship to step upstairs.

Mrs. Thorne was seated before her dressing-table, enveloped in a voluminous wrapper, and with her hair only half-pinned up into the elaborate fashion of her choice. She was a stout, goodnatured looking woman, and when she rose to greet Nell she seemed rather to surge out of her chair. “Oh, my dear Lady Cardross, pray come in, and forgive my receiving you in such a way! But I would not keep you waiting while I scrambled on my clothes, and so I told Thomas to bring you to me straightaway.”