Authors: Lord Tom
They waited for Mr. Petworthy to pass out of sight before emerging from their place between the tents, but as soon as they had walked a few yards, they caught up with him. He had stopped before the sheep pens and was looking around, consulting his watch occasionally as if expecting someone.
“I must get to the other side of those pens,” said Lord Harleston, drawing Susan back with a hand on her elbow. “Will you go back to Lady Mewhinny?”
Susan shook her head. “No. I am coming with you.”
He glanced down at her dress regretfully. “I am afraid you may spoil your gown,” he warned.
But Susan was not to be deterred. “Nonsense. I shall be quite careful. And I shall not persist if my being along prevents you from getting close enough to hear him.”
He nodded. “Good girl. Let’s see if we can get around here.” And leading her back along the way they had come, he took a narrow path which seemed to skirt the animal pens.
Before long they were passing along the outside of the village where it opened into a meadow. Lord Harleston followed closely along the fences which confined the animals until they caught sight of Mr. Petworthy’s soberly clad figure. Someone whom neither of them knew, had joined him. The two men were in close conversation.
Lord Harleston squatted behind a fence post and pulled Susan down with him. “I see nothing for it but for me to enter the pen. This one appears to be empty and it should be close enough at the front for me to hear them if I can get quite into the corner. You must stay here.”
“If it is empty, I see no reason why I might not come, too,” Susan said reasonably—or so she thought. Her companion started to protest, but she indicated with an impatient wave of her hand that they had no time to argue the point.
Lord Harleston made no further objection other than to look at her as if to say he hoped she would not regret it. Then, bent over double, he led the way through the gate and along the fence separating their pen from the one in front of which Mr. Petworthy was standing. Susan found it was more difficult to walk doubled over than she had imagined, although she was happy she had not bothered to wear stays.
Fortunately, there had been no rain for the past few days, so the floor of the pen was relatively dry. Susan was obliged, however, to hold up her skirts in an awkward manner to avoid brushing them against the filthy straw which covered it. That her slippers would be ruined by the ordeal, she was well aware.
They had just got within a few paces of the corner of the pen, when Mr. Petworthy and his confederate concluded their business and started off on their separate ways. Lord Harleston stopped his near crawl with a sigh and, still stooping, turned round to face her. It was at that moment that one of the farmers chose to empty a pail into the pen.
He was in the next pen, cleaning out a trough of the water left by the sheep. The water was murky and slimy with the filth from the animals and filled with pieces of straw. With the help of a large wooden bucket, he had scooped out the remaining water prior to refilling the trough, and it was this that he tossed into the pen.
The majority of the water struck Tom in the head and back, while Susan’s lap received the rest of it. Only a quick hand to the mouth sufficed to stifle her scream.
“Ohhh!” she exclaimed, revolted by the muck, but aware at the same time she must be careful to keep her voice down. “Ohhh, Tom!”
But his lordship, after one furious second, decided to laugh. He chuckled, and his amusement was so strong that it threatened to topple him. Instead he rose to his feet, drawing Susan up with him.
“We had best make our way out of this pen or we shall risk being doused again,” he said. They hurried out the way they had come, Susan in a constant fright of being seen in such disgrace.
When they were safely out and away from the threat of viewers, Susan let loose with an anguished wail. “Just look at my dress! Oh, Lord Harleston. What shall I do?” She turned to him in distress, but his look of amusement was enough to make her laugh in spite of herself.
“Odious man!” she concluded. “I suppose you will next be saying that this was all my own doing and that my punishment is well deserved.”
“I shall do no such thing,” he told her. “It would be most ungentlemanly. But at the same time, you cannot expect me not to laugh. Between us, we present quite a spectacle.”
Susan could not deny it. Tom’s hair was plastered to his head and the back of his shirt and breeches was soaked with muck. The front of her dress was in a similar state, and was clinging indecently to her body. She hoped the unpleasant nature of the water was keeping him from noticing the latter fact.
“Perfectly odious!” retorted Susan. “But what shall I do? I cannot think Lady Mewhinny so completely nearsighted that she will not perceive my state of disarray! And I must be getting back to the carriage! I have been missing far too long.”
He nodded in agreement. But looking round, he spied what appeared to be a brook in the near distance. Pointing it out to her he said, “Let’s see if we cannot repair some of the damage, at least.” Then, giving her his arm, he made his way over to the water’s edge.
“But I have no cloth with which to dab at my clothes,” Susan protested. At first Tom seemed not to have heard her, but the next thing she knew he had removed his smock and dipped it in the clear water. It took a moment before the dirty water was rinsed from his own garment, but as soon as it began to take on a whiter colour, he wrung it with his hands and presented it to her.
“You will still be quite wet,” he said, “but at least the filth can be got out.” He smiled up at her in a reassuring way which somehow set her heart to fluttering.
She took the wet shirt in her hand and scrubbed the front of her gown vigorously. It would not come as clean as his shirt had from being submerged, but the worst of the mess did come off. She returned it to him, glancing shyly down at his exposed figure, but observing, “Your hair is quite full of muck, I’m afraid. You really do look the part of the groom much more than I ever thought you would.”
His eyes laughed up at her.
“Touché.
I suppose I deserved that for laughing at a lady in distress. But I will still refrain from telling you I told you so.”
Susan laughed at his implication. Then, looking back towards the fair, she remarked anxiously, “I must be going. Perhaps if I go straight to the carriage, I can say that I had been waiting for her to arrive. I will say I found myself on the wrong side of the ducking pond at just the wrong moment, and made my way immediately back to the carriage to avoid the embarrassment of being seen in this state.”
“Sounds an excellent explanation to me,” Lord Harleston said. “And I shall walk back in this direction.” He waved towards the opposite side of the brook.
They parted. Susan made her way back to the fair, unaware that his lordship’s eyes followed her as far as they could with an expression of immense satisfaction.
Luckily, she was the first one to reach the carriage. Within minutes, however, Lady Mewhinny and Vigor returned, having searched for her all over the fair without success. Her ladyship was effusive in her exclamations of dismay over finding Susan in such a state, and greatly feared the accident had spoiled her enjoyment of the fete.
But Susan assured her that it had not, and her countenance was so full of pleasure at the recollection of dancing with Lord Harleston behind the tents, that Lady Mewhinny could have no doubt on the matter. They rode home in happy silence. Once, out the window Susan caught a glimpse of Tom walking home across the fields, but she trusted that her two elderly companions did not notice the similar wetness of his attire.
Chapter Ten
That evening at dinner, Mr. Petworthy approached his aunt again about allowing him to manage her affairs. Lady Mewhinny thanked him with as much good cheer as ever but firmly declined. Susan could not like the hint of desperation in Mr. Petworthy’s eyes as he heard her final decision, nor did she trust the curt nod which he subsequently gave to his friend. Clearing his throat, Mr. Sodporth began immediately to pose probing questions to her ladyship concerning the care of her monkeys, and since he had shown no interest in them before, Susan’s suspicions were instantly aroused.
“You say you assist the servants in the care of these creatures, Lady Mewhinny?” said the doctor. “Is that not rather strenuous exercise for a lady of your years?”
“You may well wonder, my dear sir,” said Lady Mewhinny with a wry glance at him. “But I can assure you it is nothing but a pleasure to me.”
Mr. Sodporth shook his head with a suggestion of concern. Then, looking up at Susan with a curiously intent expression, he continued to address her ladyship. “I can only wonder at the motivation for engaging in such a curious pursuit.” Susan was shocked to find that the doctor’s amiable demeanour had vanished, and in its place was a rather calculating look. Fearfully, she wondered what it could mean.
But her attention was claimed by Mr. Petworthy, who remarked quietly at her elbow, “I have often wondered much the same thing.” His remark was accompanied by a significant look which she was at a loss to interpret. It seemed as if both gentlemen were soliciting her agreement on the subject. She wanted to disavow all similarity of opinion with theirs, but found she was too distressed to utter a single sound. Or, she had to admit to herself, to come up with any reasonable comment in support of Lady Mewhinny’s actions.
It was with considerable anxiety that Susan made her way carefully to the stables that afternoon. She felt she must consult Tom immediately about the sudden change.
He listened to her with a suitable air of gravity. “It certainly seems,” he agreed, “as if they were about to set upon their work, but I cannot conceive of what would make them concern themselves with your opinions. And I do not like it! I should not have allowed you to stay up at the house with two such scoundrels!” He frowned as if annoyed with himself.
Susan was touched by his concern for her, but dismissed it with assurances. “It is of no consequence. I do not think their intentions extend to me. It seems more that they wish to convince me of the correctness of their own opinions, but as yet, I cannot imagine what they have in mind. Mr. Sodporth’s questions centred mostly on Lady Mewhinny’s activities with respect to her monkeys. Do you suppose they intend trying to take them from her?”
Lord Harleston shook his head. “I do not think so. That would not seem to make any sense. And I have not been successful in extracting any news from his valet. The infernal fellow never seems to be about when I find an excuse to carry me up to the house.”
Susan nodded and thought of Peg, whom she had not seen in the past two days.
“But you must not stay there a moment longer,” Tom continued. “We can leave tomorrow and I will send a magistrate to look into the business.”
Susan started to protest but was silenced by an upheld hand. A voice came from near the door to the stables, and it was only by hurrying that she and he were able to hide themselves before its owner entered.
The voice belonged to Mr. Petworthy, who was in company with Mr. Sodporth. From beneath the pile of straw under which Tom had hidden them, Susan could hear the gentlemen’s voices clearly.
“Yes, that was my uncle all right, damned spouter! Come to demand his money. I had to tell him some of our plan before he’d consent to give me more time.” Susan, at first, thought Mr. Petworthy was in possession of a second uncle about whom she had never heard, and wondered why he had not called at the manor. But Mr. Petworthy’s subsequent remarks clarified his words for her.
“Don’t ever do business with the moneylenders, Sodporth! They’ll bleed you dry, the dirty scoundrels! As if a gentleman hasn’t better things to do than worry about paying his bills.” The two men stopped in front of the stall where Susan and Lord Harleston were hiding. Unconsciously, Susan moved nearer to him for protection. His arm stole quietly about her and she had to remind herself it was to remind her to stay still. Nevertheless, her heart beat so loudly as a result that she was certain the other men must hear it.
“So what must we do now?” Mr. Sodporth asked.
“We must proceed with our plan. Are you certain of securing the assistance of your friend?”
“Oh, without a doubt,” Sodporth replied. “Mr. Smidley often acts without a shade of proof. You have only to come through with your part of the bargain when the business is concluded. I took the liberty of promising him something in the vicinity of fifty pounds—on your behalf, of course.”
Mr. Petworthy growled that he wished his friend would be less generous with money that was not his own, but he was interrupted by Mr. Sodporth.
“You realize, of course, my dear Petworthy, that the signatures of
two
justices of the peace will be required to commit her. The law is more strictly enforced since the committee of enquiry was appointed in recent years. Things are not so simple as they used to be.”
Susan’s skin crawled with horror. So that was what all their significant glances had meant! They intended to send Lady Mewhinny to Bedlam! Or something equally evil, at least. Susan could not think of poor Lady Mewhinny in such a situation without tears springing immediately to her eyes. Only the tightening of Tom’s arm about her kept her from crying out against their infamy.
But Mr. Petworthy was speaking. “Then we must find another signature, and in a hurry! Only my repeated assurances that I would soon be trustee of my aunt’s estate sufficed to convince that old beggar to call off the bailiffs. Surely if there is one signature already, the other justice will not feel obliged to delve into the matter too deeply?”
“Probably not,” Sodporth agreed. “But I shall endeavour over the next few days to make a note of her ladyship’s odd behaviour. It will undoubtedly show signs of monomania. Her sleeplessness is a definite sign.”
Mr. Petworthy expressed feelings of satisfaction with his friend’s professional opinions and urged him to be quick about the business. Then the two men broke off their meeting and strolled out of the stables.