Authors: George W. M. Reynolds,James Malcolm Rymer
CHAPTER CXXIV.
THE INTRIGUES OF A DEMIREP
LADY CECILIA retired to her own chamber, locked the door, threw
herself upon the bed, and burst into tears.
Oh, at that moment how she hated her husband - how she hated
herself!
She wept not in regret of her evil ways: she poured forth
tears of spite when she thought of the opinion that her new lover must form of
her, after the explanation given by Sir Rupert.
For Captain Fitzhardinge was rich and confiding; and the
fair patrician had calculated upon rendering him subservient alike to her
necessities and her licentiousness.
"But, now - what must we think of one who bestowed upon
him those favours that were alienated from her husband by a former compact?
What opinion could he entertain, of a woman who sinned deliberately by virtue
of an understanding with him whom she had sworn to respect and obey?
It could not be supposed that the morality of Captain
Fitzbardinge was of a very elevated nature; but in the occurrence of that
morning there was something calculated to shock the mind the least delicate -
the least refined.
Yes - Lady Cecilia wept; for she thought of all this!
And then her rage against her husband knew no bounds.
"The wretch - the cowardly wretch!" she
exclaimed aloud, as she almost gnashed her teeth with rage; "was he not
born to be my ruin? From the moment that I saw him first until the present
hour, has he not been an evil genius In my way? Yes - oh! yes: he is a demon
sent to torture me in this world for my faults and failings! Seduced by him
when I was very young, I might have been plunged into disgrace and infamy, had
not my father purchased his consent to espouse me. Then the large sum that was
paid to save my honour was squandered in the payment of his debts, or in
ministering to his extravagances. Now, what is our position? what is my
position? Shunned by my own father and mother, I am left dependent on him who
knows not how to obtain enough for himself; or else I - I, the daughter of a
peer, must sell myself to some Mr. Greenwood or Captain Fitzhardinge for the means
to support my rank! Oh! it is atrocious: I begin to loathe myself! Would that I
were the mistress of some wealthy man who would be constant and kind towards
me, rather than the wife of this beggared baronet!
Lady Cecilia rose from the bed, advanced towards the
mirror, and smoothed her hair. Then she perceived that her eyes were red with
weeping.
"Absurd!" she exclaimed, a contemptuous smile
curling her lips; "why should I shed tears upon the past which no human
power can recall? Rather let me avail myself of the present, and endeavour to
provide for the future. Am I not young? and does not my glass tell me that I am
beautiful? Even the immaculate - the taintless - the exemplary rector of Saint
David's paid me a compliment on my good looks when I met him at Lady
Marlborough's, a few days ago. Yes - and me thought that if the most
evangelical of evangelical clergymen of the Established Church could for a
moment be moved by my smile, - if that admired preacher, who publicly avows
that he refrains from marriage upon principle, - if that holy minister who is
quoted as a pattern to his class, and an example for the whole world, - if he
could whisper a word savouring of a compliment in my ear, and then seem ashamed
at the moment of weakness into which his admiration had betrayed him ;- if my
charms could effect so great a miracle as this, what may they not do for me in
helping me on to fortune ?"
She paused and considered herself for some minutes in
the glass opposite to her.
"Yes," she cried, again breaking silence,
"I will no longer remain in the same house with my unprincipled and
heartless husband: I will no longer breathe the tainted atmosphere which he
inhabits. His very name is associated in my mind with forgery and felony! I will
break the shackle which yet partially binds me to him; I will emancipate myself
from the restraint and thraldom wherein I now exist. Fitzhardinge is rich and
loving; perhaps he may still feel the influence of the silken chain which
I threw around his heart. We will see! If he come gladly back to my feet, my
aim is won; if not - well, -and she smiled, complacently,- there are others as
rich, as handsome, and as easily enchained as he!"
Lady Cecilia proceeded to her desk and wrote the
following note:-
"Come to me, dearest Fitzhardinge, at
three precisely, this afternoon: I have much to say respecting the specious
falsehoods which Sir Rupert uttered this morning in order to conceal the
natural cowardice of his disposition. He was afraid to involve himself in a
quarrel with you; and he excused his unmanly forbearance by means of assertions
that reflected upon me. Come, then, to me at three; I shall be alone, and at
home only to you."
This note was immediately conveyed to
Captain Fitzhardinge by Cecilia's lady's-maid, who was the confidant of her
mistress's intrigues.
Having despatched her missive, the baronet's wife
proceeded to the duties of the toilet.
This employment, breakfast, the newspaper, and a novel,
wiled away the time until about one o'clock, when Lady Cecilia, having
ascertained that her husband had gone out half an hour previously, descended to
the drawing-room.
She was attired in a simple and unpretending manner;
but then she knew that this style became her best.
She was determined to captivate that day; and certainly
she had seldom appeared to greater advantage.
Her rich auburn hair, - of a hue as warm as the
disposition which it characterised, - fell in long hyperion ringlets upon her
sloping shoulders: her blue eyes were expressive of a feeling of languid
voluptuousness; and her pure complexion was set off by the dark dress that she
wore.
The time-piece upon the mantel had scarcely struck two,
when a loud double-knock at the front-door resounded through the house.
Lady Cecilia started from her seat, for she had
forgotten to instruct the servants "that she was only at home to Captain
Fitzhardinge." But she was too late to remedy her neglect; the summons was
already answered ere she had gained the landing on which the drawing room
opened.
She accordingly returned to the sofa, and composed
herself to receive the visitor, whoever it might be.
In a few moments the servant announced the Earl of
Warrington.
With this nobleman Lady Cecilia was only very slightly
acquainted, she having met him on two or three occasions, some years
previously, at her father's house.
"I must apologise, Lady Harborough, for this
intrusion," said the earl; "but I trust to your kindness to pardon me
in that respect, and to afford me a little information concerning a matter
which has suddenly assumed an air of importance in my eyes."
"No apology is necessary for the honour which your
lordship confers upon me by visiting my humble abode," answered Lady
Cecilia; "and with regard to the subject to which your lordship alludes, I
shall be happy to furnish any information in my power."
"Your ladyship's courtesy encourages me to
proceed," continued the earl. "Forgive me if I must direct your
attention to one of those pieces of gossip - I will not say scandal - which so
often becomes current in the sphere in which we move. I allude to an anecdote
relative to a certain mysterious remittance of a thousand pounds which was
forwarded to Sir Rupert Harborough, and which your ladyship undertook to
disburse for his advantage."
"Your ladyship
[-sic. ed.-]
places the matter in as delicate
a way as possible," said Lady Cecilia, affecting to laugh heartily in
order to conceal the shame which she really experienced at this reference to
her unworthy action; "but it was only a pleasant trick which I played Sir
Rupert. The truth is, Sir Rupert is not the most generous man towards his wife
and when I found that some honourable person was repaying him a debt contracted
a long time previously, I thought that, as the amount fell so providentially
into my hands, I could not do better than appropriate it to the liquidation of
the arrears of pin-money due to me."
"Very just, madam," said the Earl, forcing
himself to smile at the incident which Lady Cecilia represented in the light of
a venial little advantage by a wife against her husband. "I believe that
the amount was forwarded anonymously?"
"To tell you the candid truth, my lord," answered
Lady Cecilia, "the whole affair was so strange and romantic, that I kept,
as a great curiosity, the letter which accompanied the bank-note. If you
possess any interest in the matter —"
"Your ladyship knows that I am not seeking this
information without some object," said the earl, emphatically. "Would
it be indiscreet," he added, in a less serious tone, "to request a
glimpse at that great curiosity?"
"Oh! by no means," returned Lady Cecilia, who
affected to treat the whole matter as an excellent joke; then, rising from her
seat,, she hastened to her work-box, and in a few moments produced the letter.
"It was not so scented with musk when I received it," she added,
laughing; "but it was redolent of a far more grateful flavour - that of
this world's mammon."
"I believe mammon is the deity whom we all afore
or less adore," observed the Earl of Warrington, gallantly taking up the
tone of chit-chat, rather than formality, which Lady Cecilia endeavoured to
infuse into the conversation: then, as he received the letter from her hand, he
said, "May I be permitted to read it?"
"Oh, certainly, my lord: and if you have any
curiosity in the matter, you are welcome to retain it," answered Lady
Cecilia.
"With your leave, I will do so," said the
earl.
"And now that I have replied to all your
lordship's queries," continued Lady Cecilia, "may I ask one in my
turn ?"
The earl bowed, and smiled.
"Who was the indiscreet eave's-dropper or
tale-bearer that gave your lordship the hint concerning this business?"
asked the baronet's wife.
"Methinks that your ladyship has been at no pains
to conceal the affair, said the earl: "and what hundreds have talked about
cannot well be charged against an individual tale-bearer."
"Nay, my lord, I mentioned it but to two
persons," exclaimed Cecilia. "The first was to Sir Rupert Harborough
- in a moment of pique; and the other was to - a - a - particular friend
—"
"I am not indiscreet enough to ask for
names," interrupted the earl, rising; and he hastened to take his leave,
ere Lady Cecilia could reiterate her question relative to the person who had
communicated to him the fact of the intercepted thousand pounds.
It was now nearly three o'clock;' and Lady Cecilia
again composed herself to receive Captain Fitzhardinge.
Punctual to the hour, the officer was introduced into
the drawing-room.
But his manner, instead of being all love and
tenderness, was simply polite and friendly.
"Fitzhardinge," said the lady, "I
perceive that you have allowed yourself to be prejudiced against
me."
"Not prejudiced, Lady Cecilia," answered the
guardsman; "but I confess that I am no longer under the influence of a
blind passion. The conduct of your husband this morning was that of a man who
was acting consistently with the circumstances which he explained, and not that
of an individual who was playing a part in order to disguise the innate
cowardice of his disposition. No, Cecilia - your husband is not a coward -
whatever else he may be! And now one word relative to myself. So long as I
believed that you made to me, as a proof of love, the generous sacrifice of
conjugal fidelity, - so long as I believed that an affection for me alone
induced you to violate your marriage vow, - then the dream was sweet, though
not the less criminal. But when I discovered that you made no sacrifice to me,
-that you came not to my arms warm with a love that trembled at detection, but
secure in the existence of a heartless compact with your husband, - then my
eyes were opened, and I saw that Lady Cecilia Harborough had risked nothing of
all that she had pretended to risk - sacrificed nothing of all that she had
affected to sacrifice - for the sake of Captain Fitzhardinge! Thus the delusion
was destroyed; and although our amour might be based upon more impunity than I
had ever conceived, it would be the less sweet! The charm - the spell is
broken!"
"And have you come here to tell me all this - to
insult me with your moralisings?" demanded Lady Cecilia, the fire of
indignation and wounded pride displacing the languid voluptuousness which had
at first reigned in the expression of her eyes.
"No! not to insult you, Cecilia," answered
the officer; "but to explain in an open and candid manner the motive which
leads me to say: '
Let us forget the past, as it regards each other!'
"Be it so," said Lady Cecilia, deeply
humiliated, and now hating the handsome officer much more than she had ever
liked him. "In that case, sir, we can have nothing more to say to each
other."
Captain Fitzhardinge bowed, and withdrew.
Lady Cecilia fell back upon the sofa, murmuring
"Beaten - beaten! defeated in this hope!"
And tears came into her eyes.
But in a few moments she exclaimed, "How foolish
is this grief! how useless this indignation! Sorrow and hatred are the
consuming enemies of female beauty! Did I not say ere now that there were
others in the world as rich, as handsome, and as confiding as Captain
Fitzhardinge ?"
As she uttered those words aloud, the haughty beauty
wiped her eyes, and composed her countenance.
She rose and advanced towards the mirror to assure
herself that her appearance indicated naught of those tears which she had shed;
and as she contemplated her features with a very pardonable pride, the
reminiscence of the compliment which the clergyman of Saint David's had paid
her flashed to her mind.
She smiled triumphantly as she pondered upon it; and
that vague, shadowy, unsubstantial phrase of flattery, that now formed the
topic of her thoughts, gradually assumed a more palpable shape in her
imagination, - became invested with a significant
meaning, - then grew into a
revelation of passion, - and was at length embodied into a perfect romance of
love with all its enjoyments and blisses.
The ardent soul of that frail woman converted the
immaculate clergyman into an admirer betrayed in an unguarded moment into a
confession of love, - then changed him into a suitor kneeling at her feet, -
and by rapid degrees carried him on, through all the mystic phases of passion,
until he became a happy lover reclining on her bosom.
With a presumption which only characterises minds of
her warm temperament and loose ideas of morality, Cecilia triumphed in the
half-hour's impassioned reverie which succeeded the departure of Captain Fitzhardinge,
over the ascetic virtue and self-denying integrity which public opinion
ascribed to the rector of Saint David's.
Then, when some trifling incident aroused her from this
wild and romantic dream, she did not smile at its folly - she regarded it as a
species of inspiration prompting her in which direction to play the artillery
of her charms.
"Yes," she exclaimed, musing aloud; "he
once said
'I never saw you look so well as you appear this
evening :'
-those words shall be a motto to a new chapter in my life!"
And she smiled triumphantly as if her daring aim were
already accomplished.
"Thirty-six years of age," she abruptly
resumed her musings, -"wealthy - handsome - unmarried,
from principle
," - and here an erratic smile of mingled satisfaction and
irony played on her rosy lips, - "and yet fond of society, the Reverend
Reginald Tracy must no longer be permitted to remain proof against woman's
beauty - aye, and woman's wiles. Oh! no - he shall repeat to me, but far more
tenderly, the words he uttered the other evening: his passing compliment shall
become a permanent expression of his sentiments? But his character-his
disposition? must I not study
them
? If that be necessary, the
task is ready to hand !"
She rose from the sofa, and having selected an
ecclesiastical magazine from some books that stood upon a cheffonier, returned
to her seat to peruse at leisure a sketch which the work contained of the
character, ministry, and popularity of the rector of Saint David's.