Authors: Elizabeth Thornton
Despite the girls' brave words that they would regard their sojourn in Bath as a high adventure, their nearer proximity to that pleasant city and, more particularly, to the forbidding presence of their parent and guardian, gave them increasing pause for thought. As the carriage horses began their slow descent of the steep slopes to the town center, conversation between the two female occupants faltered to a
halt. The
gentlemen, who had acted as outriders for a good part of the journey, were fully occupied in helping the coachman control the nervous lead animals, for, so Ravensworth had tersely told them through the open carriage window, "The fair city of Bath is a walker's dream but a nightmare for even the most accomplished driver."
And it
was
a fair city, thought Briony readily, but the forthcoming interview with Sir John, which the girls expected would be a stormy one, robbed them of half the pleasure they might otherwise have enjoyed in the serenely classical beauty of the Georgian town. Despite their feelings of foreboding, however, they could not fail to be impressed by the dazzling splendor of the long-windowed buildings of sparkling Bath stone flanking the broad streets.
Harriet's sister, Fanny, and her husband, the Reverend Edward Darnell, had their dwelling in Laura Place just across the
Pulteney
Bridge in the newer part of town. The coach came to a halt before a terrace of tall, imposing residences which gave way onto
Pulteney
Street, the main access to the Sydney Gardens. Briony shaded her eyes against the sun and looked toward the famed gardens where, she had heard, picnics, concerts,
ridottos
, and displays of fireworks were held almost every other day of the week for the entertainment of Bath's mostly temporary residents. Before Briony had time to collect her thoughts, the front door was opened and a fierce-faced Sir John descended the steps toward them. His first words were ominous.
"We have been expecting you these two days past."
Briony and Harriet glanced uneasily in each other's direction. This was bad news indeed, for they had no way of knowing who had intimated the tidings of their projected arrival.
Certainly not Aunt
Sophy
.
"Leave everything for the servants, that's what they're paid for,"
expostulated
Sir John, as if the girls were making a deliberate attempt to delay the fate he had in store for them. "Ravensworth," said Sir John, riveting his lordship with a penetrating stare, "I particularly want a word in
your
ear."
Ravensworth smiled blandly at the irate gentleman. "I don't doubt it, Sir John, as I wish in yours. However, you will not object if Lord Avery and I set about finding a place to rack up for the night before we get down to business? The York on George Street, as I remember, is a most comfortable establishment but quite like to be the first to let all its rooms."
"There's a perfectly good hotel at the end of
Pulteney
Street," retorted Sir John. "
YouH
find a room there soon enough
after
you hear what I have to say to you."
Briony looked askance at her uncle. It really seemed unjust in him to vent his spleen on Lord Ravensworth when that gentleman had gone out of his way to convey them all the way from London.
"But Uncle John—" she began rashly.
"Silence, miss!"
He
glowered
her down and Briony swallowed.
A flicker of annoyance creased -Ravensworth's brow. "I collect you are thinking of the Sydney Hotel, sir," he
said ;
levelly. "I don't doubt there are rooms there that go begging. The Sydney Gardens are too close for comfort, for my taste." His words were civil, but his bearing was every inch the aristocrat as he faced the elder man. Sir John's steady gaze never wavered from his face. After a moment, he seemed to come to a decision, and spoke in a more modulated tone.
"I beg your pardon. No offense meant. I would deem it an honor if you would dine with us this evening."
The tension seemed to go out of Lord Ravensworth and Briony realized she had been holding her breath. She let it out on a soft sigh.
"Delighted," replied his lordship on a warmer note. "It would be foolish to embark on long explanations until all parties concerned have rid themselves of the dirt and tedium of their journey, don't you agree?"
The two gentlemen exchanged a measuring stare and Briony looked from one to the other sensing that a hidden message had passed between them. She glanced at Harriet for confirmation of her suspicions, but her cousin was intent on pushing a pebble on the ground with her toe. Lord Avery had not even taken the trouble to dismount but looked uneasily away as if he did not wish to be drawn into the conversation. It was borne in on Briony that she was the only person present not party to the little drama being enacted out by Ravensworth and her uncle. She felt vaguely troubled.
Briony's
sense of dread grew as the afternoon progressed. She had resigned herself to accept the inevitable tongue- lashing which she was sure her uncle and her aunt felt duty bound to accord her. It never materialized. Although their manner toward her was stiff and formal to an excessive degree, not one word of censure passed their tightly compressed lips. She became conscious that when Harriet and Lady Esther spoke to her, they evaded looking directly into her eyes. Only Edmund's and Fanny's manner seemed natural, but Briony thought that she caught a look of pity in some of their exchanged glances and she felt bewildered. Nanny she met briefly on the stairs for only a moment. Her eyes were red-rimmed with crying copious tears. She hugged Briony to her with a strangled, "Oh ma wee lamb," before pushing past to attend to her duties in the nursery on the floor above. Briony gloomily deduced that the punishment which was about to fall on her must be a fearful one indeed.
The dinner hour did nothing to lessen her grave misgivings, for when she was called to the drawing room, Ravensworth was the only guest. She stopped on the threshold, her heart hammering wildly against her breast.
"Where's Avery?" she asked without preamble.
Ravensworth's smile was meant to be reassuring. "He sends his regrets. He had a previous engagement."
"It's not possible!" she returned without thinking.
"If you say so," said Ravensworth politely, turning away to take up his conversation with Fanny where it had left off.
To
Briony's
overwrought sensibilities the atmosphere at the dinner table that evening was positively charged with electricity. She could feel the hair at the nape of her neck rising. When the thunderbolt fell, she was certain that it would strike her first. She began to fantasize about the fate which her uncle might be contemplating for her, but short of sending her to the colonies, nothing really fearsome came to mind. She told herself resolutely that she was being foolish and made a valiant effort to lay-her unreasonable fears to rest. Nevertheless, hardly a bite of food passed her lips and as dinner progressed she fell altogether silent. She was dimly aware that of everyone present only Ravensworth never seemed to lag for conversation and his appetite was as hearty
as
she had ever seen it.
When the covers were removed and the port brought for the gentlemen, Fanny rose gracefully to signal that the ladies should retire. Ravensworth moved to exchange a few whispered words with Sir John.
"Briony, be so kind as to give me a few moments of your time." Sir John's voice brooked no denial. Ravensworth came to her side and gently guided her by the elbow to the seat next to his. Edmund smiled encouragingly and followed the ladies out. Only the three of them remained.
Ravensworth poured some port in a glass and handed it to Briony. "Drink it!" he told Briony. "You look half scared to death."
"I am," she breathed, and gulped down a draught.
Sir John looked thoughtfully at the
Marquess
. "Shall you begin or shall I?" he asked at last.
"Oh you, sir," responded Ravensworth airily. "I know pretty well what you are going to say, but I am certain that Briony hasn't
an inkling
. I am depending on you to talk some sense into her."
Briony reached for her glass and drew deeply on the port. More and more sinister, she thought darkly.
"Very well then," Sir John replied thin lipped, looking for
all the
world like some sanctimonious parson. Briony suddenly recalled Aunt
Sophy's
disclosure that in his youth, Sir John had been a
rakeshame
devil and she giggled involuntarily. She reached for her glass of port but Ravensworth's strong clasp stayed her hand.
"Slowly, my girl!" he admonished. Briony meekly obeyed.
"Where shall I begin?"
mused
Sir John softly to himself. "Oh yes—on Tuesday I learned in the Pump Room from that busybody gossipmonger, Lady Harrington, that my daughter and my ward had been Causing tongues to wag in London by their high-spirited antics—something to do with snuff, I recall."
"I can explain that," Briony hastily interposed.
"Don't put yourself to the trouble," said Sir John in acid accents. 'That folly I am quite prepared to overlook. Now where was I? Oh yes. On Thursday at the Assembly Rooms, Lady Harrington had further tidings to convey. My daughter and my ward, so I was given to understand, had been presented to the infamous
Harriette
Wilson at the Opera by none other than the Most Honorable, the
Marquess
of Ravensworth."
"I can explain that," said Briony in a small, tentative voice. Ravensworth suppressed a chortle.
"Don't trouble," said her
uncle with a freezing look
. "At first, I could not, would not entertain such a notion," he went on, his voice ringing with rising anger. "I was so enraged at the old she-goat that I warned her if she had been a man, I would have called her out. But when she introduced me to three young gentlemen, one of whom was her nephew but
all
of whom
collaborated
her unlikely tale, I was ready to die of mortification." At this point, Sir John made heavy inroads into his glass of port and poured himself another.
"Is that all, sir?" asked Ravensworth encouragingly.
Briony's
hand surreptitiously snaked out to retrieve her glass while Ravensworth's attention was diverted. She drained it and felt a warm glow spread through her shaking limbs. She liked the sensation better than the cold fear which had held her in its grip. The decanter was at her uncle's elbow, too far away for her to reach.
"Would you like more port, my lord?" she asked Ravensworth ingenuously. An unsuspecting Sir John passed the port to his lordship. Briony watched in fascinated interest as Ravensworth refilled his glass.
"That is by no means all," Sir John finally responded with a piercing look. "Yesterday evening at a concert in the Sydney Gardens, when I had made up my mind to return to London forthwith, whom do you think I chanced to encounter?"
"Lady Harrington?" asked Briony helpfully, one hand resting absently on the port
decanttfr
.
Sir John gave a sinister smile at no one in particular. "I was accosted by that jackanapes, the Earl of Grafton.
" .
"Really?" asked Ravensworth, his eyes twinkling. "Now the story gets interesting, I collect."
He turned to glance at Briony but when he noted the full glass of port in her hand he examined the decanter suspiciously and removed it from her reach.
"A charming gentleman," responded a slightly befuddled Briony, nodding to her uncle. "We met him on the road."
"You don't say!" Sir John's voice was coolly impassive. "The tidbit that
thai
'charming gentleman' was pleased to divulge was that my niece, Miss Briony Langland, had become the
mistress
of the
Marquess
of Ravensworth."
There was a shocked silence and Sir John settled back in his chair with a self-satisfied smirk on his lips.
"I wonder what gave him that
idea?
" Ravensworth inquired innocently.
"A trifling matter of Briony being in your chamber, in your arms in fact, when you were naked."
"I can explain that," said Briony in a strangled squeak.
"My dear girl, it's too late now for explanations! I don't doubt that you and Ravensworth have done nothing excessively wrong. As I once told your father,
explanations
of his questionable conduct toward your mother would signify nothing in the eyes of the ton. It's actions that count."
Ravensworth looked interested. "I should have liked to have met the gentleman."
"Papa
was
a gentleman," said Briony with a hint of menace. "He would never have taken advantage of Mama. He loved her."
"He was a man of honor," intoned Sir John in a threatening manner, "and he knew his duty."
"Ah yes," Ravensworth purred. "
Briony,
put your port down and pay close attention. Your uncle is about to give you a lesson in the ways of the wicked world."