Rake's Progress (16 page)

‘But we hardly know each other, and yet you have everything planned.'

‘Love activates the brain wonderfully.'

‘Do not talk fustian. What of my stocks and shares?'

‘You have enough money, my greedy darling. You will not need very much in the army. Say I am not successful in dragging you to the altar, what will your life be like?'

‘Much the same,' said Esther. ‘Ordered and comfortable and—'

‘Dull. Oh, so dull. You cannot keep turning to a strange butler for help.'

‘I intend to offer Rainbird a post in my household.'

‘But will he take it? He has responsibilities. I tell you, Miss Jones, that is not a staff of servants I have at Clarges Street. That is a tribe, and Rainbird is the headman. If you can imagine them all dressed in beads and feathers and carrying spears, you might be able to understand them better.'

Esther did not know quite how it happened, but suddenly the idea of the servants dressed as primitive savages struck her as exquisitely funny. She threw back her head and laughed, her cloak sliding from her shoulders to show the magnificence of her gown and emerald necklace.

The two men who had been sitting in the corner got to their feet and sidled out. Lord Guy watched them go.

Then he turned his attention to Esther, who was still laughing.

‘You are foxed, my sweeting,' he said.

Esther stopped laughing. ‘Is that what it is?' she asked.

‘Perhaps. Have some more.'

‘I would not take any,' said Esther, holding out her glass, ‘were I not persuaded you are mistaken. The warmth from the fire is having a beneficial effect on me.'

‘We cannot stay here much longer,' said Lord Guy. ‘Two rough-looking men left after they had seen your necklace. They may have gone to find accomplices.'

‘Fiddle!' laughed Esther, who was feeling wonderfully elated.

‘Mayhap they will become lost in the fog, although these rats are used to hunting by night. Darling Esther, I could sit with you here until the end of time, but I fear we might be in danger.'

‘You have no right to call me Esther,' said Esther owlishly. ‘Not even when we are married. I shall call you Carlton and you shall call me Lady Guy.'

‘I am glad you have decided to marry me,' he said. He took out a piece of paper and held it up. ‘See! Special licence.'

‘No!' cried Esther. ‘I was funning. How could you get a special licence?'

‘One of my second cousins is married to a bishop.'

‘Why such haste? Why? If and when I get married, the wedding will be set for a year after the engagement, as is proper.'

‘Dear Esther, under that gloriously prim exterior is a wild and dangerous woman who might marry anyone to spite me. I intend to have you all to myself, and as soon as possible.'

‘Well, you shan't,' said Esther. ‘This may surprise you, my lord, but I am Untouched!'

‘Bravo,' he said, amused. ‘I would not have you any other way.'

‘Whereas you, my lord, have had many women.'

‘I have been at the wars a long time,' he said. ‘My . . . er . . . pleasures were few and far between.'

‘Nonetheless, the idea of any intimacy with such as you repels me.'

He put his hands on either side of her face and looked searchingly into her eyes. ‘You may be right,' he said seriously. ‘I would not have an unwilling bride. Still, it is better to make sure.'

He bent his head and kissed her. Esther sat unresponsive in his embrace. Her lips were cold and firm. When he raised his mouth, her eyes were hard.

He looked at her in surprise and dismay.

Then the door of the tap crashed open and four men shouldered their way inside. The landlord, who had been approaching to make up the fire, took one look at them and vaulted back over the counter and disappeared from sight.

Lord Guy rose to his feet, holding his stick as they approached.

It was a silly stick, he reflected vaguely, a small black ebony piece of nonsense with a silver knob and a silver tassel.

Esther rose to her feet as well and stood behind him.

The leader of the four men was squat and burly. ‘Hand over the gewgaws,' he said, ‘and you won't be hurt.'

Lord Guy stood very still, looking at the men. Then, ‘Stand back,' he said to Esther in a low voice.

Esther moved away behind him to the side of the fire, desperately looking about her for a weapon.

Lord Guy continued to stand facing the men.
Why didn't he
do
something?
thought Esther.

‘'E's struck dumb,' said one of the men with a
coarse laugh. ‘Let's get on wiff it, or we'll be 'ere all night.'

The leader advanced on Lord Guy.

One minute Lord Guy was standing there, looking at them languidly, the next he moved like lightning. He swung his cane and brought the knob of it down on the leader's head with a sickening crack, and then dodged and feinted as the others rushed in. He threw the next assailant across the tap, swung and kicked the third member of the gang in the teeth, whirled about and seized the punch-bowl and threw the contents in the last man's face. Then he seized Esther by the hand and dragged her out of the tavern, hauling her along the street behind him, until he finally came to a stop.

He pulled her into his arms and held her close while he listened for sounds of pursuit.

All around them the streets hidden in their winding sheets of London fog lay empty and deserted.

‘Take me home,' whispered Esther, shivering. ‘I want to go home.'

‘Then kiss me.'

‘No.'

‘I shall keep you here until morning. Kiss me.'

‘It is not ladylike,' said Esther in a choked voice. ‘Oh, very well.'

She could not see his face and her kiss landed on his cheek. He held her tightly and his searching mouth found her own. He buried his lips in hers, ignoring her lack of response, moving his mouth
gently on her own, and then more fiercely, until he felt her begin to respond. Esther at first thought she must be drunk. Her legs felt shaky and her arms felt weak. She could not hold out against him. All the punch she had drunk and the fright she had received, combined with the strangeness of the night, took away the last of her defences. If his hands had wandered, if he had tried for further intimacies, she would have taken fright and pushed him away. But for that moment in time, Lord Guy felt that just kissing her was enough. Once he became sure of her response, he settled down to the simple hedonistic delight of kissing someone he loved, adding tenderness to experience, feeling her body come alive, and the heavy weight of her hair beneath his hands as he held the back of her neck.

He did not say anything, fearing that to say words of love, or to demand them, would break the spell. If Miss Esther Jones was content with silent and sometimes savage kissing in the middle of a foggy anonymous London street, then Lord Guy Carlton was happy to give her what she wanted.

The hoarse cry of the watch sounding from far away brought them back to reality.

‘I would never be sure,' said Esther in a low, shaky voice, ‘that you were faithful to me.'

‘Every man does silly things at some time in his life,' he said. ‘If only you had done something silly, Esther, then you would be glad of the shelter of my unrespectable arms. Take a risk. Marry me. Surely even the respectable Miss Jones knows she cannot
kiss a man in a London street and not marry him. I could gossip, you know, and damn you as a wanton.'

‘But you will not.'

‘Ah, if I am such a paragon, then I am respectable enough for you. By all that's holy, I hear a carriage.'

The sound of horses' hooves plodding along came to their ears.

‘Hey!' called Lord Guy. ‘I say, driver!'

The bulk of a carriage loomed up, a blacker blackness in the fog.

‘I'm lost,' came a plaintive voice from the box. ‘Strothers is the name. You sound like a gentleman.'

‘George Strothers!' cried Lord Guy. ‘It is I, Carlton.'

Lord Guy turned to Esther. ‘One of my drinking companions,' he said. He turned back to the carriage. ‘Strothers, take us up and get us somewhere civilized.'

‘Can't,' said Mr Strothers. ‘Try your hand with the ribbons if you like, Carlton, but I've been driving my poor beasts around and around for hours trying to find the way home.'

Mr Strothers slid along to the passenger seat, and Lord Guy helped Esther up onto the box. Lord Guy took the reins, and, with Esther between them, they set out through the fog.

By dint of stopping when they saw a linkboy's torch and by diligently asking every shape they could see in the fog, Lord Guy and Esther managed to pilot the carriage up into Broad Street, along
Broad Street to High Street and then into Oxford Street, down Bond Street, round into Hay Hill and so into Berkeley Square. Esther and Lord Guy thanked Mr Strothers and sent him on his way to his house in Hill Street off Berkeley Square. Esther thought it odd that she did not even know what Mr Strothers looked like.

To her distress, Lord Guy followed her into her home. She was overset with the events of the evening, the effects of the punch were melting away, and she was becoming horrified at her own behaviour. Miss Fipps appeared in her undress, wearing quite the largest nightcap Lord Guy could ever remember seeing. She cooed with distress over Esther's adventures, her faded eyes wide with anxiety, and Esther, who had planned to dismiss Miss Fipps, found herself glad of her companion's motherly concern.

But no sooner had Miss Fipps seen the couple furnished with the tea-tray and warmed by a roaring fire than she smiled gently on both of them and drifted out of the room, leaving them alone together.

‘A fine chaperone I have chosen,' said Esther bitterly.

‘As far as my cousin is concerned,' said Lord Guy, ‘we are engaged and
want
to be together. Come! Drink your tea and go to bed. I have no intention of laying a finger on you. This repellent room is enough to put anyone off.'

‘This is a charming and well-furnished room,' said Esther hotly.

He raised one eyebrow and looked from the open Bible to the grim furniture and the gloomy hangings.

‘You see!' went on Esther when he did not reply. ‘Why should I marry? Why should I have my taste criticized and the equilibrium of my life upset?'

‘For love,' he said, putting down his teacup. He rose to his feet and she shrank back in her chair. ‘I am not going to kiss you,' he said. ‘Good night, Miss Jones.'

His face was suddenly older, tired and drawn, and his blue eyes were serious. He bowed and left.

Esther sat alone, looking at the fire. Perhaps he had taken her in dislike and would go away and never see her again. Her head began to ache, and she reflected that punch had a very lowering effect on the spirits.

Lord Guy let himself in at 67 Clarges Street. Three of his servants were waiting for him in the hall, Rainbird, Angus MacGregor, and Joseph.

‘There was no need for you all to wait up for me,' said Lord Guy, somewhat touched.

But the idea that they had been waiting up to see to his needs was soon banished as Rainbird said, ‘We have a most important matter to discuss with you, my lord.'

‘Come into the front parlour,' he said with a sigh. ‘Mr Roger at home?'

‘He has not come back from White's.'

‘Oh, is that where's he's gone? Then he won't be
back until morning. Out with it, Rainbird. What is it?'

Rainbird produced a small black notebook. ‘We have reason to believe your servant, Manuel, is a French spy,' he said. ‘We took the liberty of searching his clothes when he was asleep. We found this. It is all in Spanish and none of us can read Spanish.'

‘I've never heard such nonsense,' said Lord Guy wearily. ‘Pass it over.'

There were only two pages of writing. He read them carefully and then a smile curled his lips. ‘Do you want me to read this to you?' he asked.

‘If you please, my lord,' said Rainbird.

‘Very well. It begins, “I do not like this household. The butler is a mountebank who does not behave like a butler at all. He is quite ill-favoured and smells bad. The chef is a barbarian, a Scotchman who speaks a savage language. He has a foul temper. The footman is a . . .”' Lord Guy raised his eyebrows. ‘I really don't think I ought to go on,' he said. ‘I suggest you replace this and do not interfere with my servant's personal property again. It appears that people who read other people's notebooks are like people who listen at keyholes. They never hear any good of themselves.'

Rainbird took the book, and the three servants shuffled out.

‘The wee sneak,' fumed Angus, ‘writing all thae nasty things.'

‘I wonder what he wrote about me?' asked
Joseph. ‘We stayed awake for nothing and I'm that tired. Me and Lizzie walked and walked and thought we'd never get home.'

Manuel opened one eye as they slid the book back into his pocket. Then he closed it again and smiled to himself as he went back to sleep.