Beatrice Goes to Brighton Read online

  ‘Tomorrow,’ said Hannah. ‘But I must get Benjamin to take a letter to Lord Alistair telling him of my new address or he will not know where to fetch me for the ball.’

  ‘Ah, Lord Alistair,’ said Lady Beatrice thoughtfully. ‘I feel that one does not approve of me.’

  ‘I am sure you are mistaken,’ said Hannah firmly. She looked at the now flushed and radiant Lady Beatrice. Lord Alistair, thought Hannah, disapproved of the old Lady Beatrice. But perhaps, just perhaps, he could be encouraged to fall in love with the new model …

  5

  I prithee send me back my heart,

  Since I cannot have thine:

  For if from yours you will not part,

  Why then shouldst thou have mine?

  Sir John Suckling

  Benjamin, to Hannah’s surprise, was not pleased that they were to move into Lady Beatrice’s household. She thought he would have been delighted to be part of an aristocrat’s staff. But Benjamin said he was her footman and her footman alone and he would not take part in any other work in Lady Beatrice’s establishment.

  ‘You are too nice,’ said Hannah crossly. ‘Lady Beatrice is giving all her staff their marching orders and so you will soon be the sole servant again. Now as to the matter of the rent. Where is this Mr Barnstable? He surely wants to be paid something.’

  ‘Not he,’ said Benjamin. ‘Just you pack your things, modom, and leave Mr Barnstable to me.’

  Benjamin went out in search of Mr Barnstable or Captain Barnstable or Colonel Barnstable, for he was sure he was a military man.

  The rank turned out to be that of captain, as Benjamin soon discovered when he finally ran that gentleman to earth in the Ship Tavern. ‘I’d better count the silver,’ said the captain, getting to his feet.

  ‘Don’t you dare!’ said Benjamin shrilly. ‘If you got any complaints, you will find my lady resident with Lady Beatrice Marsham, and you’ll find that hutch of yourn a damned sight cleaner than it was when we moved in.’

  ‘You’re a mountebank,’ sneered the captain, ‘and that mistress of yours is no better. Foreign royalty indeed. I heard all about that trick.’

  Benjamin removed his white gloves and struck the captain across the cheek with them.

  The captain reeled back, horrified. His friends stared at Benjamin, outraged. ‘Have you run mad?’ gasped the captain. ‘I don’t duel with servants.’ He turned to his friends. ‘Here, help me drop this hothead off the end of the pier.’

  Rough hands seized Benjamin and carried him out. He fought and struggled as he was borne remorselessly towards the pier.

  Benjamin finally ceased to struggle and lay inert in their hands, but his brain was working furiously. ‘Hey!’ he cried out suddenly. ‘Ain’t that disgraceful? Imagine a lady going into the water without a stitch on.’

  He was dropped unceremoniously on to the pier while his captors rushed to the edge and stared wildly in the direction of the bathing machines, crying, ‘Where? Where?’

  But the day was cold and there was nothing to be seen and when they turned back the nimble figure of the footman was running hell for leather off the pier.

  Lord Alistair Munro was surprised to receive a letter from Miss Pym in which she said she had moved in with Lady Beatrice. He felt Miss Pym was being duped in some way. He was sure Lady Beatrice had some ulterior motive and refused to believe she was being forced into marriage. But there was another surprise in store for him. On the day of the ball, an announcement appeared in the local paper to the effect that the engagement between Lady Beatrice Marsham and Sir Geoffrey Handford was at an end. He studied it for some time and then came to the conclusion that it was merely Lady Beatrice playing her old game but worse than before. She had rejected Sir Geoffrey in a public and humiliating way.

  Lady Beatrice’s enraged parents called to find she was out walking with Miss Pym. Sir Geoffrey and his mother called, to be told she was ‘not at home’.

  By evening, both Hannah and Lady Beatrice were secretly wishing they did not have to go to the ball. Hannah was sure she would be dreadfully insulted by one and all, and Lady Beatrice was sure Sir Geoffrey would make a public scene.

  But she was deeply indebted to Hannah Pym and could not bring herself to let that lady go on her own. Admittedly Hannah was being escorted by Lord Alistair, but Lady Beatrice knew Hannah needed the support of another woman. Lord Alistair could dance with Hannah only twice and that left acres of evening in which she could be attacked.

  After her maid had dressed her, Lady Beatrice went to Hannah’s room and found to her amusement that Benjamin was trying to persuade his mistress to wear pink feathers in her hair. How he had come by the feathers, Hannah did not know, but she could not get him to listen when she protested that pink feathers would look ridiculous with a gold silk gown.

  ‘You must wear jewels, Miss Pym,’ said Lady Beatrice. ‘We shall both go armoured in my best jewellery.’ She herself was wearing a blue silk gown with a fairy-tale tiara of sapphires and diamonds on her black hair. She sent Marianne to fetch a diamond tiara and diamond necklace and then stood back to survey the effect as the necklace was placed around Hannah’s neck and the tiara on her sandy hair.

  ‘Very grand,’ she said at last. ‘You’ll do. Just look at all the jewels I have, Miss Pym. We will be able to live in great comfort. There are some pieces which belong to the Debrens and which must go back to my parents, but the rest are very fine and should fetch a good sum.’

  Hannah was dazzled as she looked at her own reflection in the mirror. Who could snub a lady dressed in such magnificence? If only Sir George Clarence could see her now!

  Then a shadow crossed her face. Lady Beatrice was now to be her friend and companion, the beautiful, the magnetic Lady Beatrice. Would Sir George be able to look on such a lady and keep heart-whole? A stab of jealousy hit Hannah and in that moment she thought of Lord Alistair Munro, so carefree, so single, so marriageable. Were he to fall in love with Lady Beatrice, all her troubles would be over, and Hannah would be free to see Sir George again without this dangerous beauty in tow.

  Lord Alistair arrived promptly at eight o’clock and seemed to take it in good part that he was expected to escort Lady Beatrice as well.

  ‘I saw the announcement of the end of your engagement in the newspaper,’ he said, ‘so I assume your parents are reconciled to your single state. Miss Pym told me some Gothic tale that they would cut you off without a penny.’

  Lady Beatrice went over to an escritoire in the corner of the drawing-room, took out a letter and handed it to him, saying, ‘This has just arrived.’

  He raised his quizzing-glass and studied it, his thin eyebrows rising in surprise. It was from her father, the earl.

  Dear Beatrice [read Lord Alistair], I do not call you daughter, for you are no longer a daughter of mine. Your disobedience and folly are beyond words. Perhaps you think I will not carry out my threat? Then I take leave to tell you I have written to my bankers to cancel your allowance and given instructions to my agents to put your London house on the market. If you do not come to your senses, then you will end up on the streets, and may the Lord have mercy on your wicked soul.

  Yrs, Debren.

  ‘And how will you manage?’ he asked, putting the letter down.

  ‘I am to be Miss Pym’s companion,’ said Lady Beatrice gaily. ‘We are to reside in a cottage in the country and be very rustic. Oh, I wish I had thought of this before.’

  ‘Life in a cottage for such as you can be a dismal affair.’ Lord Alistair looked at her cynically. ‘No more parties or balls or hearts to break.’

  Lady Beatrice gave a brittle laugh. ‘I know you have a low opinion of me, my lord, but pray forget it for this one evening – Miss Pym’s evening.’

  Hannah felt very elated as she was helped into Lord Alistair’s open carriage, very conscious of the glitter of diamonds at her neck and on her head. The day had been dark and dismal, but now a low sun was sinking into the sea, the air was still and balmy, an
d the restless sea-gulls of Brighton screamed overhead.

  The journey to Lord Southern’s house was only a few yards, in fact; they queued from Lady Beatrice’s house to the entrance of Lord Southern’s mansion rather than drove, but then, one must never arrive on foot.

  All Hannah’s elation suddenly crumbled. For as they descended from the carriage, helped down by Benjamin, resplendent in gold-and-black livery – where did he get it? wondered Hannah – here was Mrs Cambridge, and beside her, her friends, just arriving.

  They stood and stared at Hannah and then began to titter and giggle maliciously. ‘Pay them no heed,’ urged Lady Beatrice. But Benjamin was suddenly in front of Mrs Cambridge and her group, a Benjamin white-faced, eyes aglitter, hands clenched. ‘Wot you staring at, you bleedin’ harpies, you rotten scum o’ the kennel, you daughters o’ whores!’

  ‘BENJAMIN!’ shrieked Hannah.

  But his outburst had the desired effect. Clucking like a party of outraged hens, Mrs Cambridge and her friends scuttled quickly into the mansion.

  ‘That footman is disgraceful,’ said Lady Beatrice to Lord Alistair. ‘You should be taking him to task, not standing there giggling.’

  ‘True,’ he said with a grin. ‘How very true. But how refreshing to hear someone say what one would not dare say oneself.’

  ‘I shall speak to you later, Benjamin,’ said Hannah. ‘I have a good mind to send you away.’

  Benjamin looked unrepentant as he doggedly followed them up the carpeted stairs. He was determined to wait in the hall with the other footmen so that he might have a good view of the Prince of Wales when he arrived.

  Lady Beatrice and Hannah left their shawls in an ante-room, as if oblivious of the frosty stares from all the ladies present. But as they walked up the stairs, Lady Beatrice said ruefully, ‘We must be prepared to take the wall this evening, for none will dare dance with us.’

  But there were young gentlemen there who had never heard of Lady Beatrice’s hard-hearted reputation, and soon she was being solicited to dance.

  Lord Alistair stood up with Hannah for the first country dance, but was curiously aware of every step that Lady Beatrice took. She looked younger, he thought. Perhaps with parents such as she possessed, there was much to be said in her defence. Mindful of his duties to his partner, he made sure he engaged Hannah for supper, and then, when the dance was over, led her to one of the gilt seats around the ballroom before going off to talk to his friends.

  ‘Of course, it is not Almack’s,’ said a dowager loudly beside Hannah, ‘so I suppose one must expect to have to rub shoulders with all sorts of peculiar people.’ Hannah knew this remark was intended for her own ears and was sorry that the reprehensible Benjamin was far away in the hall.

  And then, as the cotillion which was being performed finally finished, a rustling and murmuring started up in the room. The Prince of Wales had arrived.

  Lord Alistair came up to Hannah and held out his hand and then led her into the line that was being formed to greet the prince. Hannah steeled herself to forget the nastiness of her tormentors. This was a moment to treasure.

  The Prince of Wales entered. He was fat and florid, his hair teased and curled all over his head, and his watery blue eyes looking haughtily about. Lord Alistair realized that the prince was in a bad humour and wished suddenly he had not brought Hannah. Although the prince had been amused by Lord Alistair’s account of events, he had the fault of believing only the last person who spoke to him. Lord Alistair had a sinking feeling that some malicious gossip had given the prince an unflattering picture of this Miss Pym.

  The prince came down the line, stopping here and there to exchange a few words, followed by Lord Southern. He came to a halt in front of Lord Alistair, looked at Hannah and at the sparkle of her diamonds, and said, ‘That female ain’t here, is she?’

  In a colourless voice, Lord Alistair said, ‘May I present Miss Hannah Pym, Your Highness.’

  Hannah sank into a court curtsy. The prince scowled down at her. Hannah raised her eyes to his. The prince saw they were full of tears. ‘Why do you cry, hey?’ he snapped.

  ‘Oh, sire,’ said Hannah Pym. ‘I am overcome with emotion. This night I have met England.’

  The scowl left the prince’s face, for in Hannah’s eyes was simple adoration and that was something the touchy, oversensitive prince was not used to seeing in the eyes of his subjects. He forgot that he had recently heard that this Miss Pym was as common as the barber’s chair and had been putting about that he was in love with her. His fat cheeks creased in a flattered smile and he slowly held out his arm.

  There was a little gasp, someone let out a slow hiss of surprise, and the dazed Hannah took the royal arm and was led forward. At the head of the line, the prince turned and faced Hannah. ‘Now you can tell everyone you walked with royalty,’ he said indulgently.

  ‘If I could die now,’ said Hannah fervently, ‘I would die happy. I have long worshipped you from afar, sire.’

  ‘Tol-rol!’ said the prince dismissively, but highly delighted. ‘We are pleased to meet a lady of such character and breeding.’ He signalled to his friends and courtiers, who clustered around him as he was led away. Lady Jenks, a friend of Mrs Cambridge, whispered in her ear, ‘Did you hear that? Do you not think now the original rumour was true? He called her a lady of character and breeding. And look at the way her footman dared to abuse us!’

  Hannah sat down again by the edge of the ballroom in a happy daze. The dowager beside her smiled and said, ‘I have not had the pleasure of your acquaintance. Miss Pym, is it not?’

  But before Hannah could reply, she found she was being asked to dance by Lord Southern himself, Lord Southern who had only given her two fingers to shake on her arrival, and yet who now seemed to wish to mark her out for special attention.

  Hannah was still wrapped in rosy clouds of glory. The only thing that marred her pleasure was that she was a childless spinster. What a tale to tell grandchildren before a winter’s fire! She did not even notice that Lord Alistair had taken Lady Beatrice on to the floor.

  Lord Alistair had noticed that Sir Geoffrey Handford, who had arrived late, was approaching Lady Beatrice in a threatening way, and something had moved him to prevent her from being faced with a nasty scene. The dance was another country one and took quite half an hour to perform, and Lord Alistair had the satisfaction of seeing Sir Geoffrey stride off to the card-room.

  There was not much opportunity for conversation during the figures of the dance, but afterwards, as was the custom, Lord Alistair promenaded with Lady Beatrice round the floor.

  ‘Our Miss Pym is in high alt,’ said Lady Beatrice. ‘What did she say to make our sulky Prinny take such a liking to her?’

  ‘She treated him with all the reverence normally accorded to a saint and he reacted favourably. It is now being said that Miss Pym must be foreign royalty. That lady attracts adventures, so beware.’

  ‘If by adventures you mean distress and danger, I hope her days of adventuring are over. Goodness, this ballroom is hot. They have enough candles to light the Vatican.’

  ‘There is a balcony at the end which overlooks the sea, if you would care for a breath of air.’

  ‘Gladly.’

  They walked together to the end of the room and found themselves on a small balcony facing the sea. A small moon was shining on the sea and the susurration of the waves rising and falling on the beach reached their ears.

  Lady Beatrice put her hands on the railing of the balcony and looked out. ‘How very peaceful it is,’ she said, half to herself. ‘If only I could leave now. Sir Geoffrey, I feel, is determined to seek me out and make a scene.’

  ‘I do not think he can do that with the prince present. It is well known he craves a title higher than that of knight and will do nothing to bring the royal wrath down on his head. How did he come by his knighthood? Stealing money from Indian potentates hardly counts as gallantry.’

  ‘I assume he came by it as most men do in these ven
al days,’ said Lady Beatrice. ‘He probably paid vast sums of money to people in the right quarters.’ She turned and glanced back into the ballroom. ‘I wonder if I shall miss all this,’ she said. ‘Just at this moment, freedom is so sweet that I doubt it.’

  ‘And Miss Pym will be company enough?’

  ‘I am sure of it.’

  ‘And will you then cease to flirt? Or will you break hearts in some rural village?’

  Lady Beatrice sighed. ‘How cruel you think me. And yet I do not believe men have hearts to break.’

  ‘There speaks a lady who has never been in love.’

  She turned with her back to the shifting, restless sea and looked up at him. ‘I have been in love, my lord, or thought I was.’

  ‘So what happened?’

  She turned back and stood looking out to sea again, so still and quiet that he thought she did not mean to answer him, but at last she said, ‘I had just returned from the seminary and my parents were delighted to discover they had a marketable daughter and Mr Blackstone was the highest bidder. But during the period of my engagement, I went to balls and parties during the Season. There I met a young man, handsome and courteous and kind. I was so very much in love with him. I told him I did not want to marry Mr Blackstone and he said I should have nothing to fear. He would marry me himself. All that was required was his parents’ permission, for he was dependent on their fortune. He rode off to York where they lived, promising to be back within a month. How I waited! How I dreamt of his return. He had lent me his handkerchief on one occasion at a ball and I slept with it against my cheek. But the days stretched into weeks and he did not come back. The arrangements for my wedding were going ahead. I could not believe he would forget me. Even when my father was leading me up the aisle of St George’s, I thought he might come bursting into the church to sweep me away. I learned later that he had married.’

  ‘His name would not be William Purdey, by any chance?’ asked Lord Alistair.