‘Getting ready to set sail,’ said Tom. ‘I should laugh if they were to miss the tide!’
As Phoebe’s amused eyes ran over the crowded deck they alighted on the figure of a small boy, who was critically observing the various activities in progress. For one instant she stared unbelievingly, and then she clutched Tom’s arm, exclaiming: ‘Edmund!’
‘Eh?’ said Tom. He saw that she was looking at the small boy as though she saw a ghost. ‘Now what’s the matter?’ he demanded.
‘Edmund Rayne! Salford’s nephew!’ she stammered. ‘There-on the boat!’
‘Is it?’ said Tom, glancing at the child. ‘Are you poz?’
‘Yes, yes, how could I mistake? Oh, Tom, I have the most dreadful fear- What was he like, the man who owns that coach?’
‘Like a counter-coxcomb!’ replied Tom. ‘I never saw such a quiz!’
She turned pale. ‘Fotherby! Then Lady Henry must be aboard. Did you see her? Very fair-very beautiful?’
‘No, I only saw the dandy, and the valet, and that fellow over there, whom I take to be the courier. Why, you don’t mean to say you think they’re eloping?’
‘I don’t know that, and I don’t care! They are kidnapping Edmund, and-oh, Tom, it is my fault! I am going aboard!’
He detained her. ‘No, you don’t! How could it be your fault, pray? I wish you won’t fall into such distempered freaks, Phoebe!’
‘Don’t you see, Tom? I told you what it was that made my book so particularly abominable!’
‘I haven’t forgotten. But your book ain’t to be blamed for Lady Henry’s running off with that Jack-a-dandy. If you’ve got some notion of trying to interfere, let me tell you, I shan’t let you make such a cake of yourself! It’s none of your business.’
She said with determined calm: ‘Tom, if it is as I believe, and Lady Henry is taking that child out of England, I am so much to blame that I think I shall never hold up my head again. I put the scheme into her head! It was never there before she read my book. Oh, she told me herself how much struck she was by the end of it, and I never guessed, never suspected-!’
‘Took the scheme out of a trumpery novel? She couldn’t be such a greenhead!’
‘She is just such a greenhead! I don’t know how it will be, if they get Edmund to France, whether it will be possible for Salford to recover him, or even to find him, but only think what it must mean! More trouble, more scandal, and all to be laid at my door! I can’t bear it, Tom! You must let me go aboard that boat! Perhaps, if I could prevent this, he-people-might not think so badly of me. Tom, I’ve wished the book had never been written over and over again, but I can’t unwrite it, and don’t you think that this-if I could stop it-would be a sort of-of atonement?’
He was struck by her earnest manner, and even more by the expression in her eyes, which was almost tragic. After a moment he said: ‘Well-if you think you should, I suppose- Come to think of it, if the boy is being taken out of the country without his guardian’s leave it’s against the law! So we have got some right to meddle. I only hope we don’t catch cold at it, that’s all!’
But Phoebe had already stepped on to the gangway. As she reached the deck Sir Nugent Fotherby emerged from a doorway behind the ladder leading to the quarterdeck, and at once perceived her.
After looking at her through his quizzing glass for a minute he came forward, bowing, and saying in a pleased voice: ‘Miss Marlow! How-de-do? ‘Pon my soul, I take it very kind in you to have called, and so, I venture to say, will her la’ship! Happy to welcome you aboard! Tidy little craft, ain’t she? Chartered her, you know: couldn’t take her la’ship on the common packet!’
‘Sir Nugent, will you have the goodness to lead me to Lady Henry?’ said Phoebe, ignoring these civilities.
‘Greatest pleasure on earth, ma’am! But-you won’t take it amiss if I give you a hint?-not Lady Henry!’
‘I see. I should have said Lady Fotherby, perhaps?’
‘No,’ replied Sir Nugent regretfully. ‘Not Lady Fotherby. Lady Ianthe Fotherby. I don’t like it as well, but her la’ship informs me that to be called Lady Ianthe again makes her feel ten years younger, which is a gratifying circumstance, don’t you think?’
At this point they were interrupted. Master Rayne had approached, and he planted himself squarely before Sir Nugent, demanding: ‘When are we going to see the circus?’
Master Rayne had to look a long way up to Sir Nugent’s face, but his gaze was stern and unwavering, and under it Sir Nugent was visibly embarrassed. ‘Oh-ah-the circus!’ he said. ‘Precisely so! The circus!’
‘You said we were going to the circus,’ said Edmund accusingly. ‘You said if I didn’t kick up riot and rumpus I should go to the circus.’
‘Did I?’ said Sir Nugent, eyeing him uneasily. ‘Said that, did I?’
‘Yes, you did,’ asserted Edmund. ‘Turnin’ me up sweet!’ he added bitterly.
‘Well, there you have the matter in a nutshell,’ responded Sir Nugent confidentially. ‘Must realise it was a devilish awkward situation, my dear boy!’
‘You told me a whisker,’ stated Edmund. ‘You are a Bad Man, and I won’t have you for a new papa. My papa didn’t tell whiskers.’
‘Be reasonable!’ begged Sir Nugent. ‘You must own it was the only thing to be done, with you saying you didn’t wish to go driving with us, and threatening to raise a dust! Why, you’d have had the whole household out on us!’
‘I want to go home,’ said Edmund.
‘Do you, my dear?’ interpolated Phoebe. ‘Then I will ask your mama to let me take you home! Do you remember me? You told me all about your pony!’
Edmund considered her. Apparently he remembered her with kindness, for his severity relaxed, and he politely held out his hand. ‘You are the lady which knows Keighley. I will let you take me home. An’ p’raps if you tell me some more about your pony I won’t feel sick,’ he added.
‘Very bad traveller,’ said Sir Nugent in an audible aside. ‘Seems to turn queasy every time he goes in a chaise. Dashed unfortunate, because it fidgets her la’ship. Pity we couldn’t have brought his nurse, but her la’ship said no. No use trying to bribe her: had to bamboozle her instead. Meant he should travel with her la’ship’s maid, but at the last moment we were queered upon that suit too. Maggoty female couldn’t be brought up to the scratch! Said she was scared to go on a ship. “What would have happened if Nelson had been scared to go on a ship?” I said. She said she didn’t know. “The Frogs would have landed,” I said. “No one to stop ‘em,” I said. No use. Said she couldn’t stop ‘em even if she did go to sea. Bit of a doubler, that, because I don’t suppose she could. So there we were, floored at all points.’
‘Who is this gentleman?’ suddenly demanded Edmund.
‘That is Mr. Orde, Edmund. Sir Nugent, will you-’
‘I’m glad he asked that,’ said Sir Nugent. ‘Didn’t quite like to do it myself. Happy to make your acquaintance, sir! Daresay her la’ship would say the same, but she’s rather fagged. Gone to lie down in her cabin. Allow me to escort you, ma’am!’
‘I’ll wait for you here, Phoebe,’ Tom said. ‘Come on, Master Poll Parrot, you may bear me company!’
Sir Nugent, handing Phoebe down the short companionway, told her that Ianthe found her quarters rather constricted but was bearing every inconvenience with the fortitude of an angel. He then opened one of the two doors at the bottom of the companionway and announced: ‘A visitor, my love!’
Ianthe had been lying on one of the two berths in what seemed to Phoebe quite a spacious cabin, but upon hearing these words she uttered a shriek, and sat up, her hands clasped at her bosom. But as soon as she saw who it was who had entered, her fright vanished, and she exclaimed: ‘Miss Marlow! Good God, how comes this about? Oh, my dear Miss Marlow, how glad I am to see you! To think that you should be the first to felicitate me! For you must know that Nugent and I were married by special licence yesterday! We fled immediately from the church door, in the travelling chariot Nugent has had built for me. Was it not particularly touching of him? It is lined with blue, to match my eyes! Nugent, do go and tell them to make less noise! I shall be driven distracted by it! Shouting, and tramping, and clanking, and creaking till I could scream! You must tell the sailors that I have the headache, and cannot endure such a racket. Dear Miss Marlow, I thought you had gone to Paris a week ago!’
‘We have been delayed. Lady Ianthe, I wish you very happy, but-excuse me-!-that was not my purpose in coming aboard. I saw Edmund, and realised what must be the reason for his being here. You will think me impertinent, but you must not steal him out of England! Indeed, indeed you must not!’
‘Not steal him out of England? Why, how can you say so when it was you who showed me what I must do?’
‘Oh, don’t say so!’ Phoebe cried sharply.
Ianthe laughed. ‘But of course it was you! As soon as I read how Florian and Matilda smuggled Maximilian onto that boat-’
‘I implore you, stop!’ begged Phoebe. ‘You cannot think that I meant that nonsense to be taken seriously! Lady Henry, you must let me take Edmund back to London! When I wrote that Ugolino couldn’t pursue Maximilian out of his own country it was make-believe! But this is real life, and I assure you Salford can pursue you-perhaps even have you punished by the law!’
‘He won’t know where we are,’ replied Ianthe confidently. ‘Besides, Sylvester hates scandal. I am persuaded he would endure anything rather than let the world know the least one of the family secrets!’
‘Then how could you serve him such a trick?’ demanded Phoebe hotly. ‘The Duchess too! You cannot have considered what distress you will cause her if you hold by this scheme!’
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