Elizabeth Mansfield (26 page)

This was too much for Georgina. In spite of the pinch, her mouth dropped open. “Your
husband
? But that’s
Thomas
!”

“Yes, of course,” Camilla said, pinching her with greater desperation. “Thomas. Who else? Bring Lady Sturtevant a chair, will you, Hicks? And, Gladys, take Lady Sturtevant’s hat and pelisse.”

“Why do you look so startled, Lady Sturtevant?” Ethelyn inquired. “One would think you didn’t expect to see Thomas at his own table.”

“She didn’t,” Thomas said, smiling at Georgina broadly. “I was to have gone to … to the country yesterday, to see about some matters on my … estates.”

“Did you postpone your journey on our account? That was very good of you, old fellow,” Oswald said cheerfully.

“I still don’t see why Lady Sturtevant should look as if she’s seen a ghost merely because Thomas postponed his trip for a day or two,” Lady Ethelyn said, staring at Georgina suspiciously.

“Our Georgie doesn’t react well to surprises, do you, my dear?” Thomas said, looking at her with an affectionate grin.

“Evidently not,” Georgina muttered, trying to recover her equilibrium. If Camilla was playing some sort of havey-cavey game with her footman, it was not
her
place to give them away.

“Do sit down, my dear,” Thomas urged her. “We gentlemen have been on our feet all this time, waiting for you to take your place.”

Georgina speechlessly sank down on her chair. Camilla, waiting behind her, pressed her friend’s shoulder thankfully. “I’ll explain everything later,” she whispered and turned to go back to her own place.

But just as she and the still-standing gentlemen were about to reseat themselves, the door burst open again. Daniel stood in the doorway, his face white. “My lady,” he cried, “it’s the baby! I think it’s
comin
’!”

“Daniel!” Hicks barked, appalled.

“Is everyone in this house
demented
?” Ethelyn demanded.

“The
baby
?” Camilla, almost tottering, ran across the room to him. “But, Daniel, it’s too early, isn’t it? Are you sure you’re not mistaken?”

“I don’t think so, ma’am. She’s got these seizin’ pains, y’ know, what make her shriek … every couple o’ minutes, seems like.”

“That sounds very much like birth-throes to me,” Georgina said knowingly.

“Does it? Then someone ought to run for the midwife at once.” Camilla put a shaking hand to her forehead. “Daniel—?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he muttered dazedly. “The midwife …”

“Quite an interesting household you’ve brought us to, Falcombe,” Lord Jeffries remarked, reaching for the wine.

“It’s a veritable madhouse!” Ethelyn said icily.

“Who is it who’s … er … expecting, if I may inquire?” Lady Jeffries asked timidly of Lady Sturtevant.

“Camilla’s abigail, I believe. The footman’s wife.”

“Unheard of, disturbing a dinner party in this vulgar way!” Ethelyn muttered irritably.

“Now, now, my dear,” Oswald temporized, “these things will happen when they will.”

“Not much Miss Camilla could’ve done to prevent it,” Miss Townley defended.

At the door, Daniel stood leaning dazedly against the frame. “The midwife,” he was muttering. “Where … ?”

“Oh, dear,” Camilla said, studying him worriedly, “I don’t think
he
can be relied upon to fetch the midwife.”

Georgina rose from her chair. “Let me do what I can until
someone
fetches her. After five hatchings of my own, I ought to be capable of offering some assistance.”

“
Would
you, Georgie? I’d be eternally grateful.”

“Shall
I
go for the midwife, Miss Camilla?” Hicks offered quietly.

Camilla threw a guilty look at her guests. “No, Hicks, I think we need you here.”

Thomas, seeing an opportunity to escape from the nerve-wracking presence of Captain Brock (whom Daniel, in the shock of impending fatherhood, had apparently forgotten), jumped to his feet. “I’ll go, my love. I can be spared more readily than our butler. Just give me the direction.”

“Oh, yes, Thomas, that
is
the best solution,” Camilla said in relief. “If you’ll just settle Daniel into the sitting room before you go, Georgie and I can go up to Betsy, and all the others will be able to finish their dinners in peace.”

Tom made his way across the room with alacrity, while Ethelyn shook her head in vehement disapproval. “In peace?” she said in tones of utter disparagement. “This is the least peaceful, the most disorganized dinner party I’ve ever attended in my life!”

Miss Townley frowned at her and got to her feet. “Miss Camilla, shall I—”

“No, Ada. Please stay here and play hostess in my stead.”

“Come on, old man,” Tom said to Daniel softly, putting a supporting arm about him, “let’s get you down on the sitting-room sofa.”

“You and I had better be prepared,” Georgina warned her friend. “If Betsy’s ‘seizures’ were afflicting her every few minutes, it may be too late for the midwife.”

“Oh,
L-Lord
!” Daniel stared at her in horror and swayed unsteadily. “Tom, I … think I’m goin’ t’
faint …”

Tom grabbed him with both arms. “Hold on, Daniel. It’ll turn out all right.” And bracing him up firmly, he tried desperately to hurry him out of the room.

“Hold on there!” came a sharp, cold command. “Don’t either of you move another step!”

Everyone froze in his place. There was no mistaking the authoritative ring in that voice. It came from Captain Brock, who was leaning on the table with one hand and pointing at Tom with the other. Everyone in the room stared at him: Camilla and Georgina near the doorway, Hicks and the maids at their places near the server, the other diners surrounding the captain at the table, and Daniel and Tom framed in the doorway.

Oswald was the first to move. “Hang it, Captain, you’ve nearly made me jump out of my skin! What’s the to-do
now
?”

“You, fellow—yes,
you
, the butler! Close the door! And Jeffries, you and Falcombe here,
seize that man
!”

“
Seize
him? Do you mean Thomas?” Oswald sputtered. “Have you lost your
wits
? That man is,
roughly speaking, my
brother-in-law
!”

“I don’t care if he’s, roughly speaking, your
bastard son
! That’s the murdering deserter who
cracked my skull
!”

Ethelyn shrieked, Lady Jeffries gasped and Daniel, shocked into alertness by Captain Brock’s accusation, groaned. There followed a veritable explosion of sound: exclamations, questions, expressions of disbelief, gasps and outcries. Ignoring the hubbub, Tom turned to face the agonized question in Camilla’s eyes. In painful silence, they stared at each other until he could no longer bear it. His eyes flickered down in abject shame. He didn’t see her cheeks whiten or her hand fly up to her mouth to press back the cry that came unbidden from her throat.

Lord Jeffries, who had also remained silent during the first chaotic reaction, now joined the others in throwing questions at the captain and Tom. But the noise made sensible communication impossible, and he threw up his hands in disgust.

“Will you all be quiet!” Tom ordered at last. “I’ll answer all your questions and accusations in good time. But first I must remind you that there’s a woman upstairs in labor. Go to her, Camilla. And you, too, Lady Sturtevant. We, none of us, would forgive ourselves if she suffered from neglect while we engaged in this pointless altercation.”

“The altercation will not be pointless, I assure you,” Captain Brock said threateningly.

“Nevertheless,” Lord Jeffries said, “Mr. Petersham is quite right in advising the ladies to go at once.”

Georgina hurried from the room, but Daniel stopped Camilla on the threshold. “Take care of ’em fer me, my lady, if … if I should be gone by the time the baby comes.”

“Gone? Why should you be—” Her eyes widened in sudden understanding. Daniel, too was involved in this frightening turn of events. Was he—and Thomas, too—about to be
carted off in irons
?

Only by the sheerest effort of will—made possible by imagining her Betsy writhing in agony upstairs—was she able to keep hold of herself. She turned about to face her guests, all of whom were on their feet, staring at her with expressions which revealed shock, curiosity or concern. “Lord Jeffries,” she said in a voice surprisingly firm and steady, “I appeal to you, as a member of the Admiralty and as the only gentleman here who can deal with this matter with some impartiality, to promise me that you will permit no one of this household to be removed from here until I return. What happens to persons living in my house is of vital concern to me, and it is simple justice that I be consulted before decisions relating to their futures are made. But I can only cope with one crisis at a time. This man’s wife is about to have a baby. Therefore, until that baby is born, I insist that nothing—or no one—in this household be disturbed or uprooted. Will you see to it, my lord?

“I would like very much to oblige you, my dear, but—” He turned a questioning eye to Captain Brock.

The Captain shrugged. “If both these miscreants give their words not to make any attempt to escape, I’m willing to wait.”

Tom and Daniel nodded their agreement.

“Very well, ma’am,” Lord Jeffries said, “we’ll take no action until the child is born.”

Without another word, Camilla left the room.

“Now I think it’s time we were given some sort of explanation,” Ethelyn demanded as soon as the door had closed behind Camilla.

“The explanation is quite simple,” Captain Brock said coldly. “These men were common sailors on my ship, brought before me for some infraction. They turned on their guards, knocked my mate senseless, swung a lantern against my head and jumped overboard. As brazen and revolting a pair of deserters as you’re likely to find.”

“That’s nothin’ but a pack o’ lies,” Daniel burst out.

“Is it, Petersham?” Jeffries asked.

“From start to finish.”

“Are you trying to tell us,” Brock sneered, “that you didn’t give me this mark on my forehead?”

“Aye, I did. I won’t deny that. But the circumstances leading up to it were not in any detail as you’ve related them, and you know it.”

“All right, then, Petersham, let’s hear
your
tale,” Jeffries said, his voice tinged with suspicion.

“You won’t like the truth any more than he does,” Tom muttered, turning away, “so what’s the good of telling it?”

“Why would I not? Your wife herself attested to my impartiality.”

“No one of the Admiralty could be impartial, for my tale indicts you all.”

“Does it indeed?” Jeffries said drily. “That’s the sort of nonsense every criminal spouts, you know. It’s never his fault—oh, no!—but only the fault of the system. Naval injustice, that’s the cause. How sick I am of hearing
that
.”

Thomas smiled grimly. “So you see, there’s no point in my telling you the story, is there?”

“I suppose not,” Jeffries said with a sigh. He peered at Thomas for a moment, wondering how an intelligent, audacious, personable young fellow like this had gotten himself into such a fix. “Well, if you don’t wish to discuss the matter, we all may as well return to the table and finish our dinners, not that I myself have much appetite. Is there anything left that’s edible—what’s your name, fellow? Hicks?”

“Yes, my lord,” Hicks said, clenching his fists to shake himself from the throes of a lethargy caused by his fear of impending tragedy, not only involving his nephew and Thomas but Miss Camilla as well. But he was head of the staff—he would carry on. “We’ve kept the beef warm … and the partridge filets. And we’ve still to serve the Turkish creams and the apple tartlets that Lord Falcombe likes so much.”

Oswald shook his head glumly. He’d taken a strange fancy to Camilla’s new husband, and this turn of events profoundly depressed him. His temporary return to the world of naval affairs had stimulated his spirit and roused him from his customary lethargy. Instead of wishing to run away from this situation, he wanted very much to be able to
do
something, but a course of action had not yet occurred to him. “No, no,” he said with a sigh, “I don’t want anything. Seem to have lost my appetite, too.”

“The thought of returning to the table must be abhorent to all of us,” Ethelyn said, her mouth turning down in an expression of acute revulsion. “What I wish, Lord Jeffries, is to get to the bottom of this affair—one which, I might add, only serves to support my conviction that this city is a place of godlessness and corruption.”

“I don’t see how we’re to get to the bottom of it, Lady Ethelyn, if Mr. Petersham refuses to discuss the matter.”

“But the little I’ve heard makes no sense. How can a Petersham of the Sussex Petershams—it was Sussex, wasn’t it, Thomas?—have been employed aboard Captain Brock’s vessel as a common sailor?”

“Yes, I’ve been wondering about that myself,” Jeffries said. “How did that happen, Petersham?”

Hicks and Miss Townley exchanged glances of alarm. Any revelations about the Petershams of
Sussex were bound to bring the truth of Camilla’s duplicity to light. Miss Townley bravely intervened. “If you are all determined not to return to the table,” she said loudly, “may I suggest that we’ll all be more comfortable seated in the drawing room? Hicks can bring in some tea, and the sweets and creams, and we shall all do nicely.”
There
! she thought.
That will postpone these revelations for a while
.

***

For more than two hours, Camilla and Georgina were too busily occupied with assisting the birth to exchange a single word about the mysterious goings-on downstairs. A little before midnight Betsy gave birth to a beautiful little girl, healthy and perfect. Georgina sent a housemaid to fetch Daniel. It was fully fifteen minutes, however, before he came. (Evidently there had been some reluctance expressed by Captain Brock about letting the fellow out of his sight.) But his face, when he gazed at his wife in the candlelight holding the swaddled infant in her arms, showed nothing but a joyful awe. Both Camilla and Georgina were moved to tears. They led him to a chair beside the bed and tiptoed from the room.