the_comfortable_courtesan

The tale came out

Lord Gilbert Beaufoyle found keeping up the reputation of a dissipated young fellow quite excessively tedious – had less time than he would have liked to wrestle with the intricacies of the Basque language – but duty called and there was some likelihood that as he went about these exploits might come across some intelligence about this matter of a Society extortionist.

However, had not found out anything of material value, and was spending a quiet hour of self-indulgence at Mulcaster House with Lécluse’s Grammaire Basque, when he was interrupted by the entrance of his younger brother Steenie.

Gillie?

Hmmmm?

You know Bertie – Bertie Fawsley –

Mmmmm. Fawsley was one of Steenie’s versifying set and contributor to that poetical rag Helicon – sure one was amazed that issues ever appeared!

– Well, Elkington – oh yes, he was Elkington’s younger brother – goes give a party at Vasterlake, and is very desirous that I should prevail upon you to attend.

Gillie yawned. Oh lord. What a horrid bore. I suppose you have no idea who the other guests are like to be?

Though he was fairly confident that at least the Ladies Leah and Inez would be not among their number, since they were both at present assisting the electoral activities of their families by showing civil at balls, handing teacups, &C. Also fancied that Elkington stood rather aloof from the Nuttenford/Offgrange connexion, so they might not have been invited even in less political times.

Steenie shrugged. Said somewhat about Frimleigh, did you not encounter him in Dresden or somewhere like that?

Vienna, said Gillie, with an inward groan. Frimleigh was a young fool, now gazetted in a cavalry regiment, whom he had no desire to re-encounter.

Trelfer – Nottinge – Taskerville – the Coombes – I do not know who else.

Not Blatchett and his leech?

Steenie shook his head. Elkington never could stand Blatchett and Bertie gives him out very pleased at this opportunity to convey the cut.

Gillie sighed. Well, I suppose 'tis only civil to accept.

Steenie left in high spirits.

This was an interesting invitation. Here there were three at least of the victims of the extortionist – Nottinge because of his eccentric dressing habits – Taskerville on account of certain letters from Lady Whibsall – Mrs Coombe, he collected, was the lady obliged to pawn certain family jewels to cover her losses at Lady Venchall’s card-parties –

He fancied the delicate hand of Sir Vernon was in it somewhere. Dared say had been at Winchester with Elkington’s father – or played cricket with him – or some such – mayhap some family connexion –

Well, he should see what he should see.

Perchance it had nothing whatsoever to do with Sir Vernon, he thought, when Elkington came up to him remarking that he had some conceit of himself as a fencer, but would be entire honoured to try a pass or two with such a renowned swordsman as Lord Gilbert.

And really, Elkington was by no means inept with a rapier, but Gillie had a reputation to maintain, though went a little easier on him than he might have done.

Felt obliged to recount the tales of his exploits with Magyar Hussars and Cossacks – Elkington sighed and said had been still quite young when was sent on his Grand Tour – the most tiresome prig of a bear-leader – prosing on about historical sights – entirely tedious –

Over the next couple of days, the conversation took another turn that gave Gillie to suppose Elkington had his own motives for the invitation. That very fine young woman, Lady Isabella. One supposed that His Grace had had approaches –

Gillie grinned and said that having been out of the country since Bella was a chit still in the schoolroom, knew very little about how matters went there. O, yes, she was quite recovered from the chill she took after that very rash endeavour of Blatchett’s – indeed she was a fine healthy creature –

He apprehended that Elkington took his hoyden little sister in considerable admiration, and that this was not just a question of counting up her points of eligibility!

And does not simper and titter –

For as Steenie had gloomily observed on their arrival, there is Trelfer’s giggling ninny of a sister, that has the emptiest head in all of Society. At least we are safe from her wiles – unless she hopes we might establish her interest with Essie –

Gillie, however, wondered about Lady Gabrielle Mallafrey. Did she not somewhat over-act the simpleton? He thought that once or twice he had caught a certain slyness in her expression. But indeed, had one heard the womenfolk in one’s family and friends expatiate upon the Marriage Market, one conceived that a young woman might fly a deceptive flag to catch an offer, since too many men seemed to find silliness in a woman positively charming. When allied to what he supposed were acceptable looks.

Over cards that evening he looked around the table. Frimleigh, that spoke in the affected style common to cavalry officers, and kept his distance from Gillie. Nottinge, with those very splendid whiskers, must make quite the bearded lady when he donned a dress. Phineas Taskerville trying not to gaze in the direction of Lady Whibsall, that was seated at an embroidery frame while Sir Francis was at the card-table. Mrs Coombe was a surprisingly competent player, that gave him to wonder about how straight the play was at Lady Venchall’s little gatherings. Trelfer, that had assured Gillie that he did not blame him for Lady Leah’s defection, could see that Lord Gilbert had done nothing to encourage her, but would then go sigh a great deal over the lady, to whom he was still devoted.

There were others in the company whom he still had to sound out.

Somebody in the party, however, was the extortionist, or in the plot. For Gillie found that those incriminating items with which Sir Vernon had supplied him, had disappeared from the place – concealed, but not too concealed – where they had been amongst his things.

The next move, he supposed, would be the note of ransom.

He was not sure how he could come at seeing how that was placed.

The following afternoon 'twas a fine sunny day and most of the party were about the gardens, that were displaying to great advantage. Several of the gentlemen had repaired to the bowling green, that was in a most excellent state, and there was already money being laid.

Gillie had not precisely sneered at this recreation but had contrived to let the company suppose that for him 'twas a very tame sport.

Tea, he fancied, would shortly be brought out –

He caught, from the corner of his eye, the sight of the edge of a skirt whisking into the concealment of the shrubbery. Casting his eyes about the assembly, he found that was not, as had immediately suspected, Lady Whibsall, seeing her husband entirely engrossed in bowls, at which he had a fine conceit of himself and the twist in his wrist, sneaking off to an assignation with Feckless Phineas. No, Lady Whibsall and Mrs Coombe, that had become quite sworn sisters these past days, were sitting on a rustic seat and deep in gossiping upon their respective nurseries.

Gillie, yawning, drifted into the shrubbery himself and soon came to observe a female figure, moving very surreptitious towards a back door of the house. He followed.

Was that really Lady Gabrielle? Could it be that she was about an assignation? For surely, was it a matter of having the headache or such would have informed the entire company before withdrawing.

He still pursued.

To the wing in which the guests were housed.

The corridor on which his chamber was situated –

And, by God, that was where she was bound.

He silently followed her in and observed her about inserting a note into the place where the quack’s letter and pamphlet had been concealed.

He closed and locked the door, and cleared his throat.

Lady Gabrielle started, turning around, colour rising in her cheeks. Lord Gilbert!

Lady Gabrielle. He strode across the chamber and took the hand with the note in it. A billet-doux? But how charming – I had no suspicion –

He plucked it out of her trembling fingers and unfolded it. Ah.

It was the handwriting familiar from the notes of demand he had already had sight of.

He looked at the lady. All affectation was gone.

Why, he asked, are you doing this? Is somebody making you?

Lady Gabrielle plumped down on the edge of the bed and burst into tears – no matter of pretty beguiling drops but racking sobs and blubbered face. Gillie handed her a handkerchief.

Eventually she handed the sodden thing back, looked up at him and said, for my daughter.

Your daughter?

Another tempest threatened. At length she said, I have a daughter – Fleurette – seven years old – living in Brittany with my former governess, Mme Huguet –

Gillie, feeling as if he had been punched in the stomach, sat down himself.

The tale came out. Some eight years ago, before their father had died, the Mallafreys had been staying with their grandfather Lord Emberry. That in those days had not been quite so much of a recluse as he had latterly become, so there were some several other guests.

And one night there was an old man came into my bed and told me to keep quiet and hurt me – and that I was not to tell. And some months later Mme Huguet noticed things, and informed Mama, and so I went to Brittany with Mme Huguet, give out for my health and so that I could improve my French –

– and before Mama died she arranged to send money to Mme Huguet to keep Fleurette, and I try to go see her when I can but I am penniless, and now she grows such a great girl the expenses are more, and we do not want to put her into an orphanage –

She put her face into her hands. Do I marry I will have a settlement I daresay, but what can I do?

Gillie patted her shoulder and said, he saw that she was in a desperate hard position, but was not confident that putting other people in fear of disclosure of their secrets was a proper course. Let him think upon the matter.

What he thought was, Lady Bexbury.