the_comfortable_courtesan

Troubling intelligence

Flora Ferraby looked across the library table to her dearest companion Hannah Roberts and sighed. Sure, matters betwixt 'em had come about to be easier – for one that had been known to preach of the liberty of the heart’s affections Flora had found herself strangely afflicted when Hannah fell into a state of mutual admiration with Lady Emily Merrett that became more than a passing fancy. Even though one knew that there was Lady Emily living in Attervale with her mother’s cousin Lalage Fenster and their circle was wont to invoke the memory of those ladies that resided at Plas Newydd and were buried in the same grave.

But it was so that Flora and Hannah were still each other’s ever fixed mark. Moreover, Flora had had to admit that she had not been a mournful solitary dove and there had been a number of enjoyable romps with dear Beauf – Beaufoyle Beaufoyle, Earl of Sallington, heir to the Duke of Mulcaster, father of Flora’s daughter Kate: O, we are still passing fond of one another, but quite aside from my disinclination to marrying into the duties of his rank, there is Julius –

Julius, Hannah’s brother, already an acclaimed botanist and Fellow of the Royal Society, equally dear to Beauf’s heart.

And why the sigh, enquired Hannah, looking up from the proofs of an article she was correcting.

Flora snorted and said, mayhap little miss Lady Allder is more forthcoming with you? But she has not yet gone become confiding with me about whatever it was took place at Hackwold to cause her to become hysterical and greatly perturb Sir Godfrey. I apprehend that my dearest Tiger’s intention in sending her here was in hopes that she would become confiding and that we might unravel this knot.

Hannah shook her head. I fancy she is more like to become confiding with you than with me – no, do not groan, 'tis entirely your own fault for going cast your glamour upon the girl because she was doing all but offering you the cut direct on account of your reputation.

I am a sad vain Flora! But, Hackwold – one cannot have the slightest qualm about Sir Antony and Lady Mary Chellow, quite in the nicest of ton –

Hmm, said Hannah, indeed one can have no objection to them, but he was Trelfer’s guardian until he came of age – that tittering ninny Lady Gabrielle is still his ward – and as a result that set about Trelfer have been frequent guests at Hackwold quite this age. Furthermore, she went on, Sir Antony’s half-brother Mr Mortimer is probably entirely civil and well-conducted towards you –

Hannah!

Hannah shrugged. Has not – so far at least – gone beyond a certain amount of leering suggestively and a few comments that he would not address to a young lady – but fie, I am a lady of the press and on occasion have had to go into the printworks, and sure I have heard a deal worse here and there! But he does not manifest, shall I say, an innately chivalrous tone. That I fancy is not unique among that set Trelfer runs with –

Flora got up and paced a little. Beauf has said somewhat of the like – though mostly that they are sad dull creatures whose main entertainments are the chase and high play –

Indeed one might suppose that idle foolishness was the worst – la, do I not sound the entirest prig? –

Never! said Flora fondly, ‘tis an entirely just judgement.

Hannah put down her pen and ran her hands through her already disordered curls. She stood up herself and went over to the window. Ah: there is Ellen, goes take the children for a little air while we have this brief moment of sunshine, it must be quite the best thing for 'em – and Juliet Allder goes with 'em, excellent well, is holding Hari’s hand.

Flora went over and put a hand on Hannah’s shoulder. Hannah put her own hand over it. You will know, she said, that I have been commissioned, so successful was my stepping in to editing The Casket last year –

Quite the triumph! Flora wondered where this could possibly be leading.

– to edit this year’s, and 'tis most agreeable to be able to have a fine early start and not to have to compensate for someone else’s work left in disarray – but, anyway, I was very desirous of ensuring another tale by Sybil under her style as Selena Vavasour, given how well her debut went. So I went call upon her at Mulcaster House to solicit her – of course at present she is rather took up with her secretarial duties for Her Grace now the Season commences – but she declared herself greatly flattered. And then said, had been hoping for some opportunity to speak to one or other of us, for has had some troubling intelligence, that she is not sure what she should do about.

Say on, said Flora, by now in considerable suspense.

It comes about that Vicky Jupp found employment in the Grigson establishment ordering and cataloguing the library, and Lady Lucretia took a notion to keep her on for secretarial business, and happened to communicate to her certain matters respecting her sister Lady Iffling and Lord Blatchett –

O. Flora walked away and paced up and down in silence. Eventually she said, that would be Blatchett that has been very obvious making up to Bella?

Hannah nodded. Quite the dashing figure does one care for that style of thing –

Flora compressed her lips against blurting out some comment about the dashing figure that Em Merrett cut upon horseback –

– very elegant, excellent dancer &C.

A fascinating rake? murmured Flora. Are women really beguiled by their charms?

Hannah snorted and said, from all reports that creature O’Neill had left a long trail of beguiled females the poorer for his wooing! And then, maybe there is the notion that she will be the one to bring him away from his wicked courses –

Only in the novels of Lady Wauderkell, and one has observed how very contrariwise that came to pass in her own life – Sir Barnabas so vile a husband that she was able to obtain a legal separation, and then O’Neill that is revealed a bigamist and one that pretended she went murder him!

They looked at one another. Did one, Flora wondered, tell Bella, and mayhap cast a Byronic fascination over Blatchett?

***

Juliet Allder, though she was a far more agreeable house-guest than they had anticipated, had still not come about to disclose the secret trouble that lay upon her, and that one could, indeed, occasionally discern in a passing expression or moments of abstraction.

One does not wish to pry, said Flora, does she not wish to unbosom herself, but I fancy it would do her good – she led such a sheltered life – had not even had a Season before marrying – some very small matter may have disconcerted her –

Mildred Veriker looked up from the little muslin bag she was stitching and said, might have some device to come at confidences.

For had been herself in something a little like Lady Allder’s position – married to a much older man – though sure her case had been very different. Far from being wed barely out of the schoolroom, had been considered a confirmed spinster, on the shelf, past twenty-five and her future, no doubt, to be the useful maiden aunt about the family once her father died and she was obliged to quit the parsonage. But there was Mr Veriker, very much older than she was, that encountered her walking in the woods and studying botany, and they entered into conversation, and he lent her books. Nothing but that, yet scandalmongering tongues would wag, and her father asking Veriker his intentions, and so they had married, and been companions and fellow-scientists.

Had not imagined how congenial a life that might be! But there had come a certain trouble – younger men, visiting to drink in Mr Veriker’s wisdom in the matter of plants, took a notion that it was entirely doing Mrs V a favour to make advances, tied as she was to such an ancient. Sure she had never been pretty even when young – not like little Juliet – they doubtless considered it in the light of good works perchance –

So, as the young woman, that was very neat-handed, assisted her in the task of parceling up seeds into little bags to send to fellow-botanists, Mildred opened this tale and that Juliet, although Sir Godfrey was by no means old – a gentleman in the prime of life – was a considerable deal her senior – doubtless encountered a similar problem –

At which seeds went scattering over the table as she burst into tears. O. It is not my fault? It is a thing that men do –

And the tale came out. There had been Lord Blatchett, expressing admiration towards her – nothing that seemed improper – it did not seem wrong to grant him a dance or so or even go walk in a conservatory or such –

Verrie nodded. Quite so.

But then – when they were at Hackwold –

A deal of heaving with sobs.

O, it was terrible – I fear I have betrayed my vows –

Verrie supplied her with handkerchiefs and soothed her – la, 'twas very like one of the children in a taking! – and interrogated further.

La, my dear, though that was indeed very coarse and vulgar behaviour, did not proceed to anything that could be considered crim. con. –

For the household of Flora Ferraby was very well-acquainted with the intricacies of the law matrimonial! And were all ardent supporters of those who endeavoured to improve its parlous state.

Tears of relief.

O, Verrie – Mrs Veriker –

Fie, do you call me Verrie as all do –

– that so entirely relieves my mind! For there is Sir Godfrey, that has been so very good to me, and has such high principles – and his sister Miss Augusta –

Had the child really had visions of being cast out of Wallesfern into the snow? One dared say that there might have been a little innocent flirtatiousness, in her naivety, but nothing blameworthy: all the fault lay on Blatchett.

Come, my dear, let us have some tea – you will feel entirely better for some tea – and we will consider over how to proceed now.