The Makeshift Marriage (20 page)

“No one takes any notice of it,” said Kitty, but she knew that she did not sound at all convincing. People
did
take notice of what the birchers said, and there was no getting away
from
that fact.

Laura managed a thin smile before leaving the room. Oh, Augustine had done her unpleasant work very well indeed, but at least she wouldn’t have the satisfaction of knowing how deep her action had struck into Laura’s defenses.

She hurried along to Nicholas’s room, wanting to see him before she left, and praying that Augustine had already departed for church. Daniel was there, putting the final touches to a fresh dressing on the wound. As yet the laudanum still pervaded Nicholas, and there was little change in him. The pain was dulled, but so were his senses, and his voice still lacked any strength. He looked up at Daniel as he worked deftly with the bandages. “I shall be glad when this operation is done, my friend.”

“And so will I, my friend.”

“Damned quack.”

Daniel grinned. “That remark will cost you dearly when I present my fees.”

“Damned expensive quack.” Nicholas’s eyes moved slowly to Laura, and he smiled a little as he recognized the clothes she wore. “Venice,” he murmured, raising his hand a little. She took it, and returned the smile.

“Do I look well enough for Langford church?” she asked.

“Too good.”

Daniel straightened. “There, you are tidy for the rest of the day, Nicholas. Be prepared for a great deal of pain when the laudanum leaves you, but I do not feel able to approach this operation in any other way.”

Nicholas nodded. “I know.”

“By this time tomorrow it will all be over.”

“Keep a steady hand, quack, or I swear I’ll return to haunt you.”

“That I am quite prepared to believe.” Daniel glanced at his fob watch. “I fear it is time to go and weather Tobias Claverton.”

“Thank God I’m ill,” murmured Nicholas with some feeling.

Laura put his hand gently back on the coverlet, and left with Daniel. She glanced sideways at him as they descended the sweeping staircase. He looked very handsome in a dark gray coat and pale gray trousers. His taste was impeccable, from his blue brocade waistcoat and frilled shirt to his formal cravat, which was very excellent and complicated. He looked every inch a gentleman of fashion and quality, and was most certainly a man to turn many a woman’s head. She wondered how many fronds of willow had been placed at his door this year.

Hawkins flung the doors open for them and they stepped out beneath the portico. May garlands had been put on the outside of the doors, and their gaily colored ribbons fluttered in the light breeze. The garlands were composed of the brightest spring flowers, cowslips, wallflowers, tulips, and even some early roses that had been found blooming in a sheltered part of the walled garden.

Daniel looked at the garlands. “Miss Townsend was vastly pleased with the birchers work during the night.”

“She birched all by herself,” retorted Laura acidly.

A landau waited at the foot of the steps, and Daniel handed her in, sitting next to her. As the carriage drew away, however, Laura’s apprehensions returned, for this would be the first time she had ventured away from King’s Cliff land, the first time she would have to face neighboring landowners and the people of Langford, none of whom would view her with any friendliness.

Daniel drew her hand through his arm reassuringly. “Be easy now, for none of them will dare to actually bite you.”

She smiled. “No, but they will certainly scrutinize me from head to toe.”

“If they do they will find only perfection.” He paused a moment. “Laura, I am afraid that I have to tell you of a slight obstacle in the way of our obtaining the jewels on our return from church.”

“Difficulty?” she asked quickly, “What is it?”

“Only that unfortunately for us, Miss Townsend’s garrulous maid, Betsy May Jenkins, is not to depart at the same time as her mistress, but will leave later. It could be that the wretched girl will remain in her mistress’s rooms and that will make it very difficult for us to remove the jewels without being discovered. The last thing we want is publicity concerning our actions, for the more stealthily we achieve our aims, the better.”

“Wouldn’t it be even better to wait until the maid has gone too?”

“Time is of the essence, Laura, for we do not know the duration of the earl’s stay in Taunton. Everything should be over and done with before he returns, for that way he will not be able to do anything about it. In my opinion Charles Dodswell must be well on his way to Bath by tonight.”

Tonight. Fleetingly she thought of the operation, and the dangers to which Nicholas would be exposed.

Daniel read her thoughts. “Everything will be all right, Laura, I promise you.”

“You can only promise to do what you can, Daniel; you cannot promise to keep him safe.” She looked at him. “What are you going to do about the maid?” she asked, returning to the previous subject.

“Ah, well, I have thought of a way of occupying her time.”

“Daniel Tregarron!”

“Oh, not
personally,”
he protested with a laugh. “I had rather thought that Henderson was the man for the task.”

“Henderson?”

“He may not be an oil painting, Laura, but as Nicholas’s valet he is a fellow of some importance belowstairs. A good many of the maids would be only too pleased to lord it over the others by walking out with him. Anyway, Henderson has undertaken to do what he can to distract young Betsy May while we remove the jewels.”

The landau turned out of the King’s Cliff gates and drove east toward Langford. The Somerset hills rolled down to the flat valley where the River Parrett cut through them from Sedgemoor. The river flowed westward toward the sea, wending its way across the marsh, and Langford town nestled on its banks, the main street stretching up the gentle slope toward the tall spire of the church, crowning the hilltop. The river was wide and shallow at this point, and it was spanned by an impressive stone bridge with four arches.

The coach descended toward the bridge, and Daniel frowned. “This fool of a coachman goes too fast.” The landau swayed alarmingly over the bridge and Laura caught a fleeting glimpse of the long, green weeds waving to and fro in the clear water, and then the wheels were on cobbles as the team strained up the hill toward the church. Laura could hear the bell ringing as it summoned everyone to morning service, but there was another, more jarring sound, which vied with the bell.

“What is that?”

“May horns. Cow horns, to be precise.”

“What a dreadful noise.”

“It is the children; they always blow the horns on May morning. It is a tradition in Langford. They start at daybreak and go on all day, if they have the wind, which they usually do.”

She smiled, gazing out of the window at the passing houses. There were May garlands on most of the doors, and sometimes she saw evidence of the May birchers activities. The church stood at the side of a square, in the center of which stood the maypole, painted in red and white stripes like a barber’s pole. Ribbons twined with spring flowers hung from it in readiness for the dancing, but as yet there was no one by it, for it seemed that most of the township was gathered by the church gates, waiting for their first glimpse of the already notorious Lady Grenville.

A great many fashionable carriages had been drawn up along the wall of the churchyard, and Laura recognized both Augustine’s barouche and the Earl of Langford’s landau.

Daniel squeezed Laura’s finger briefly. “Courage,” he murmured. The carriage lurched to a standstill and as the footman flung open the doors, the sound of the bell and the more distant droning of the May horns leaped in. She distinctly heard the buzz of interest pass through the gathered crowd as Daniel climbed down, but she did not see the glances that were exchanged. It was true then, the glances said, about Lady Grenville and Doctor Tregarron…
.

Daniel held his hand out to her, but uncertainty seized her, making her hesitate. He reached in then to take her hand firmly, and so she climbed down. The sunlight was very bright after the enclosed carriage, and she did not glance around at anyone. If she had, she would have seen a sea of unfriendly faces, for in their view she was an adventuress
—a meddling, interfering temptress whose activities threatened their future and whose morals were already proved to be virtually nonexistent by her immediate commencement of a passionate affair with Daniel Tregarron.

The gathering remained silent as she and Daniel passed beneath the lych-gate and walked up the cinder path beneath the overhanging yew trees toward the church.

The church was crowded, and everyone turned as one as they entered. After the dazzling sunlight, the church was as dark as the landau had been, the only brightness coming from the magnificent stained-glass window behind the altar. There were flowers everywhere, filling the musty air with their perfume, and golden vessels shone on the altar. A tall, jeweled cross rose in the center, glittering beautifully in the rainbow light from the window behind, and Laura kept her eyes on that cross as she and Daniel walked down the aisle toward the second of the two Grenville pews, the first of which was already occupied by James Grenville.

Whispers spread through the congregation, and she knew that her cheeks were flaming as Daniel opened the low door to the pew and handed her inside. Augustine and her mother were already in their allotted places, but they moved still farther away along the wooden seat as Laura knelt to pray, thus ensuring that there was a suitably noticeable gap between their persons and those of Lady Grenville and her paramour. Augustine smiled with great satisfaction as she glanced around and saw the raised hands and fans, behind which the whispering condemnation went on. Yes, it had been such a simple exercise on her part, merely a matter of dropping a word in the ear of the likes of Betsy May Jenkins, and already the whole of Langford and the surrounding area was aware of what was apparently going on between Laura and Daniel Tregarron. Laura herself gave no hint that the rumors could be true, but one only had to look at the doctor’s warm eyes to know that he would bed the new mistress of King’s Cliff if he could. The smile still played around Augustine’s perfect lips, for soon the rumor would be imparted to Nicholas himself, and that would see an end to any faint hope Laura may have had of retaining her empty marriage.

James Grenville sat stiffly in his pew across the aisle. He glanced neither to the right nor to the left, his plump hands clasping the carved ivory handle of his cane, and behind him, in her pew, the Countess of Bawton, influential and domineering matriarch of the family to which the Reverend Tobias Claverton was proud to belong, raised her quizzing glass to survey Laura closely. The Countess of Bawton resembled a crow, for she always wore black, her nose protruded in a way that unfortunately recalled a beak, and her voice when she spoke was deep and croaking. Now her lips were purged sourly and disapproval registered in every fiber of her bony body as she lowered the quizzing glass and sniffed audibly.

At that moment the service began, and Tobias, in his flowing vestments, announced the first hymn. His sermon was up to his usual dismal and lengthy standard, for he seemed quite incapable of choosing an interesting text. When he had been preaching for an hour, almost the entire congregation was shifting uncomfortably, and only the Countess of Bawton remained motionless, her attention fully on her blundering kinsman. But everyone’s attention was caught when suddenly they heard him mention Laura by name.

“And may I take this opportunity to welcome among us Lady Grenville, wife of our dear Sir Nicholas, who we so recently thought lost to us forever after a dastardly attack upon his life in a foreign land. We all pray constantly for his recovery.” The vicar’s eyes slid uncertainly toward the Earl of Langford, for everyone knew that that was the last thing
he
would pray for! “A-and now to happier things,” he went on, “May God send His blessings upon our dear Princess Charlotte, our future queen, and her new husband, Prince Leopold. May He grant them long and fruitful lives, and much happiness. And may God grant too that the forthcoming nuptials between Princess Mary, sister of our beloved Prince Regent, and the Duke of Gl
—”

Abruptly Tobias fell silent, and a ripple of amusement passed through the congregation, for everyone knew of the bitter rift between the Duke of Gloucester and the Earl of Langford. James Grenville scowled blackly at the unfortunate preacher, whose nervous glance went beyond him to the Countess of Bawton, whose face was similarly black, but for another reason. Her nostrils flared and she tapped her cane once upon the stone-flagged floor, commanding her relative to continue or it would be the worse for him.

Tobias cleared his throat miserably, for whatever he said now he would offend one of them, and better the earl than the dear countess. “Between Princess Mary and the Duke of Gloucester,” he continued, “who is so soon to be a guest of the Countess of Bawton and who will, I earnestly hope, be a worshiper at this very church during his stay.”

The countess sat back with great satisfaction at the stir of interest that went through the church. James Grenville’s fury was evident as he turned to glower at her, but she ignored him. The Duke of Gloucester was a prize infinitely superior to James Grenville, Earl of Langford, for the dear duke was a prince of the royal blood, cousin of the Prince Regent. James Grenville was just a Grenville, and thus of little consequence when set beside her illustrious visitor.

Daniel smothered a smile as he witnessed the various silent exchanges, and for his pains received a look from the earl that would have annihilated a lesser man. Daniel merely returned the glance, allowing his mirth to show openly then, which infuriated James Grenville all the more. Snatching up his top hat, gloves, and cane, he stomped from the church, leaving a ripple of chatter behind, and the unfortunate Tobias to stare, openmouthed.

But if there was little love lost between the countess and the earl, that certainly did not mean that the countess would either accept or approve of Laura in any way whatever, and that much was made quite clear as they left the church afterward. Tobias made a further blunder by choosing to engage Laura and Daniel in conversation by the porch, thus affording everyone the chance of snubbing them as they passed. Not a word was uttered, skirts were flicked aside, heads averted, as the entire congregation filed out. Laura remained miserably where she was, her eyes downcast, her hand on Daniel’s arm, as Tobias Claverton stumbled from pleasantry to pleasantry, all the time wishing the ground would open up and swallow him
—or them.