The Notorious Lord Havergal (21 page)

“Indeed we shall. I am leaving for London at once to see him,” she replied.

“I figured we’d head out tomorrow morning,” Norton parried. “Get an early start, and with my bloods we’ll be there before dark. I know Vi and you would dislike putting up at a country inn. Now in London, I always stay at Reddishes Hotel. I can recommend it. Comfortable and respectable, but not dear. You will feel right at home.”

“I wouldn’t dream of putting you to so much bother, Ned,” Lettie said.

“Ho, bother! There is nothing I like better than an excuse to dash up to London. I go every chance I get. I will feel hurt if you don’t let me tag along. You will be more comfortable having a man with you,” he added kindly.

A trip to London was an enormous undertaking for Lettie, who had only been there twice before in her life. She remembered it as an overwhelming metropolis. Her own ancient carriage and team would not make it in one day, and once there, she had very little notion what hotel to put up at. All her servants were equally unsophisticated.

He saw her indecision and rushed in to settle the matter. “Now, what time shall we leave? Is seven-thirty too early for you? I am always up with the birds. It is no odds to me.”

“If you’re sure you don’t mind, Ned ...”

“Seven-thirty it is. I'll leave now and let you pack up your gowns. Bring along a pretty one, for there is no saying we won’t want to go out and celebrate after we have settled young Tom’s hash.”

Miss Millie hadn’t spoken a word. Lettie asked if she would be joining them on the trip, and she said, “Only if you need me, Miss Lettie. I find travel fagging.”

“I’m sure Ned will handle everything.” Lettie smiled. “You are both so very kind,”

Violet added her thanks, and the guests left. “I do like a man who takes charge,” Violet said rather smugly.

“I hope you didn’t ask for his help, Violet. Such an imposition.”

“He offered before I could ask it."

“Yes, he would. I feel much better knowing he will be along to help us.”

After the Nortons left, she drove into Ashford to the bank and took out most of the money in her account. One hundred and fifty pounds. She feared it would not begin to pay Tom’s debts. She also knew what sacrifice she must make. When she got home, she took out her diamond necklace and examined it. It was her one piece of significant jewelry. Her father had given it to her mother as a wedding gift. It was not a grand or gaudy thing; it was estimated to be worth five hundred pounds. She hoped that would pay Tom’s debts without selling the orchard. But the money would be only a loan. She would insist that Tom repay her every penny. No more spoiling him.

The afternoon and evening passed slowly. She was thankful to have the planning and packing to distract her, and thankful, too, for Mr. Norton’s kind, unquestioning help. One liability to Norton’s escort did occur to her, however. He was in correspondence with Havergal. She must caution him he was not to draw Havergal into the affair.

Lettie mentioned this as soon as they were comfortably ensconced in the carriage the next morning.

“I didn’t write to him about it,” Norton said. “Itoccurred to me that I might have him look Tom upand speak to him, but then I just had a doubt...."

“What do you mean, Ned?” Violet demanded.

“Havergal mentioned calling on Tom. I had a niggling worry that he might be the cause of Tom’s problem. Oh, he would never do any harm intentionally. He is the best-natured creature in the universe, but dropping a thousand at the gaming table would be nothing to Havergal. If Tom is racketing around with his set... I kept that letter from you to save worry.”

“I warned Tom to have nothing to do with him!” Lettie said, chagrined.

“Havergal only mentioned it once. He is the one who called on Tom, so there is no need to be in the boughs with your brother. Tom did not seek out the acquaintance. It is just a thought. No doubt I am stirring up a hornet’s nest for no reason. Pray forget I spoke, Lettie.”

Far from forgetting it, it preyed on Lettie’s mind constantly. By the time they reached London, she was half convinced Havergal had set out to ruin Tom on purpose, to spite her.

The evenings lingered long in May, but the shadows were lengthening as they entered the city, and when they pulled up in front of Reddishes, it was dark. Both Lettie and Violet were burned to the socket. They agreed that they would just have something to eat and retire, and begin their salvation of Tom in the morning. “For I am too fagged to be as harsh on him tonight as I wish,” Lettie said.

She did look spent. Her face was pale and drawn from worry and an endless day of travel.

“An excellent idea, ladies,” Norton agreed. “You both look like dishrags. I am never overcome by travel. I find it exhilarating. I will just step out on the town and meet you for breakfast. Say, nine o’clock. I will bespeak a private parlor. Ask for Norton’s parlor when you come down. I shall pick up a journal and see what treats London offers.”

With many bows and much kindness, he took his leave.

“If that man has not proposed yet, Violet,” Lettie said, “I strongly suggest you ask him to marry you, immediately.”

Violet colored up prettily and said, “He has, actually. We have been cudgeling our brains to think how to arrange it. Miss Millie insists she will leave Norton Knoll. I do not want her to in the least. We thought she might take over the swinery. She still thinks of it as home, you know, and she likes that idea.”

Lettie was a little surprised that the romance had reached the boil so quickly. “What is causing the delay then?”

“Well, it is you, Lettie,” Violet said, smiling apologetically. “I cannot leave you alone. Do you think perhaps Cousin Germaine, from Exeter, might like to live with you?”

“Yes, the very thing,” Lettie said. “As soon as we get home, we shall begin work on the wedding.” Cousin Germaine was the last lady in the land Lettie would want to share a house with. She was a tart-tongued spinster set in her ways, but there were other relatives who Lettie found more congenial, and she didn’t want to discuss it at this time.

“Yes, I thought Germaine was the very one, for you and she are really quite a bit alike." Violet smiled.

Lettie took that unintentional slight to bed with her. Was that how Violet and Norton saw her? As an opinionated, bossy shrew? As she lay in bed, worrying, the weak thought intruded, was that how Havergal saw her?

The plan settled on, over breakfast the next morning in Mr. Norton’s private parlor, was that Ned would drive to Tom’s apartment and bring him to the hotel. Ned had been up since seven-thirty and had already taken his gammon and eggs.

“It will save you ladies running out to the carriage with your meal in your throats. You just relax and enjoy your fork work, and I’ll have the lad here before your plates are empty.”

“So very kind,” Lettie said. She seemed to have turned into a parrot, forever repeating her gratitude to Norton. At times, she regretted having turned him off. What an extremely comfortable husband he would have made after all. But as she considered the full duties of a wife, she concluded that he would make an even better connection than husband.

Breakfast was a leisurely meal, and would have been enjoyable, were it not for the cloud Tom’s improvidence threw over the table. The ladies had very little idea of the geography of London, but Norton had assured them he would be back within the hour. When that time had come and gone, and they could not force another drop of coffee into their mouths, Lettie suggested they wait in their rooms.

As they entered the hotel lobby, Norton came pelting in alone. “Was Tom not at home?” Lettie demanded. It seemed unlikely that a young man who had no position should be out of the house so early.

“His man said he had gone to visit a friend in the country for a few days, but he is expected back this morning. I left a note for him to come immediately to the hotel. It looks like we are stuck to cool our heels here till he comes. I shouldn’t think he would come much before noon. We could hire a cab and have a squint at the city for a couple of hours, if you like. Dandy buildings as far as the eye can see and plenty of shops.”

As much as Lettie appreciated Norton’s help, she also wished for some privacy with her brother and took the decision to wait for Tom alone. It took a deal of persuasion, but finally she talked Violet into her bonnet and pelisse for a tour of the city with Norton, while she awaited Tom.

“We’ll be back for lunch. I have kept the private parlor,” Ned told her. “Just make yourself at home there. I have brought a couple of journals for you to scan, to kill the time. Order a bottle of wine or coffee—whatever you wish, Lettie.”

The room was cozy, and Lettie decided to await Tom’s arrival there. Her interest in politics was slight, and for amusement she turned to the social columns of the journals, thinking to learn what new parties Lord Havergal had been attending with Lady Annabelle. Strangely Havergal’s face had disappeared from all the cartoons. The Duke of C— appeared frequently by name. It seemed he had bought his mistress a set of cream ponies and a sky blue phaeton. He had forsaken pig racing for boxing. She read the list of coming matches and saw that Lord H’s man, Cuttle, had a match scheduled for the next week. This suggested that the friendship between Havergal and Crymont continued.

After an hour she decided she could handle one more cup of coffee and called for it. At eleven she asked for biscuits, not because she wanted them, but because she was utterly bored. She ought to have brought some sewing or a long novel. At eleven-thirty she stood with her nose to the windowpane, searching the busy street beyond for a sign of Tom. When he finally appeared, she thought she must be imagining things. She was beginning to doubt that he would ever come.

She ran to the parlor door and called. “Over here, Tom!”

He came bolting forward, smiling and looking perfectly elegant in a jacket and waistcoat she had never seen before. He looked thinner and a trifle hagged. In fact, he looked suddenly no longer like a boy
,
but like a young man. His dark hair sat in a neat cap, and his brown eyes were sunk a little deeper in his face than she remembered. The face was thinner, too.

“What the deuce are you doing here, Lettie? I thought one of my friends was playing a joke on me when I got Mr. Norton’s note. And how does it come he is with you?”

“He isn’t with me, exactly. He is going to marry Violet.”

“Really! When did this happen?”

“Just recently. Come in, Tom. We have to talk.”

She led him into the parlor and poured him a cup of tepid coffee. “Tom, what is all this about selling the orchard?”

”Did old Telford tell you? I don’t know why he can’t mind his own business. Why must he run around, making a great to-do about nothing?”

“Selling off your patrimony is not nothing, Tom.  Now tell me why you need the money. You had a thousand pounds to see you through. You cannot have gone through all that!”

“Everything is dear in London,” he said sulkily.

“Not that dear! Have you been gambling?”

“Where the devil did you get that idea? I suppose Telford told you that, too, did he?” He lowered his eyes over his cup, for he suddenly felt like a guilty boy who had been caught playing truant.

“Never mind who told me. How deeply are you dipped?”

“Selling the orchard would more than cover it. It would leave me a couple of hundred to go on with.”

“So you are in hawk for something in the neighborhood of five hundred?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Five hundred squandered, on top of the thousand you had to begin with! At this rate, you will have lost Laurel Hall within a year. The estate that your father worked all his life to make prosperous for you! You should be well and thoroughly ashamed of yourself. You’ve been a month in London already and no sign of a position. I cannot think you’ve been bending your mind to finding one.”

“Dash it, nobody works in London. You don’t understand how things go on, Lettie. Everybody lives off his estate. I’m not a poor man. Why should I sit in an office, scribbling letters for some scheming politician?”

“You’re not a rich man either. That life you talk about is for wealthy lords. I hear you have seen Lord Havergal?”

“And that’s another thing,” Tom said, turning to offense, as his defense was nonexistent. “You told me to call on him and the duke, then no sooner do I meet him than you tell me to stay clear of him. It is demmed hard, when he has been so kind to me, introducing me to his friends and getting me into his club.”

“So that’s it. You have been rattling around town with that expensive fribble. I’m telling you, Tom, you either find a position, or you are coming home.”

“I’m the master of Laurel Hall now, my girl,” he said, but his voice quavered with fear as he said it.

“We’ll see about that. There is a good case to be made that you are too immature to handle your estate yet. I happen to know something about the laws of guardianship,” she reminded him. “If a person is incapable of handling his own affairs, then it is possible for his next of kin to have herself declared guardian. You know Papa’s intentions in turning it all over to you was that you run the estate, not decimate it. I’ll do it, Tom. I won’t sit still and see you ruin your life for a few months’ debauchery. You’ll thank me for it in the long run.”

“Hardly debauchery,” he said, sulking.

“I’m not talking about lightskirts, though I don’t doubt your new friend has introduced you into that as well.”

“It was only a bit of gambling,” Tom said. “To tell the truth, Lettie, I thought we were playing for shillings, but when they say one, they mean one pound! My God, I nearly fainted when I discovered the truth. I ought to have known, for something similar happened at university, where one means one shilling, whereas at home it means one penny. I haven’t been back to that club,” he said as a sop.

“What club is it--Brook’s, St. James’s?”

“It was a private club, Mrs. Reno’s place.”

“A gambling hell, designed to fleece Johnnie Raws! You really are incompetent to handle your own affairs.”