It was Letty who answered, not the Londoner. ‘A trifle, sir. One hand dealt and no opportunity for the luck to swing your way. Please do not think on it.’
Jack looked at her, keeping his voice level. ‘Even a trifle leaves me still in your debt.’ He searched in his pockets, sighed. ‘But it seems I have not even a single coin to recompense you.’
‘I’ll pay your debts, luvvie. And you can recompense me all night – and most of the mornin’.’
Half the throng laughed, half tutted. Jack bowed. ‘I thank you, madam, for the kindness of your offer. But a gentleman must settle his own accounts.’ He bent, seized the pencil used for marking scores, disdained the paper beside it. Instead, he reached into his own hand, the one he’d been unable to play. Swiftly, he wrote upon the back of a card. ‘My address here in Bath. Please send a servant in the morning and I will pay both him for his trouble and you for your trifle.’
He flicked the card across. It landed face up, the writing pressed to the baize.
The card was the Jack of Clubs. She picked it up, read. nodded. ‘I will do exactly as you desire, sir,’ she replied.
I pray you will, tonight and for ever, he thought as he bowed to her, and both the other players at the table. Then he moved through the crowd, the Macaronies parting with a show of mock fearfulness before him. Two liveried flunkeys accompanied him to the main door and some way beyond it.
A little bold, he thought, once he was back on the street, looking back. Too showy perhaps? Yet it was certainly what a hero in one of her romantic novels would have done. The sudden appearance. The flick of the card. The etched lines:
‘Spring Gardens stairs. Eleven o’clock. Come alone.’
– TWELVE –
Three Encounters
He had chosen the river stairs because, although they were busy by day for ferries to the Spring Gardens on the opposite bank of the Avon, by night they were deserted, Letty would know them and they were but a three-minute walk from Simpson’s through a stretch of parkland. When the sounds of departing revellers, coach horses and chairmen had announced the end of the gathering, he had eagerly expected her almost immediately – and she did not come. By a quarter past the hour, he was biting his nails. At the half he was pacing back and forth along the dock. A dozen times he had started back toward the tumult, but there were several paths through the park and he could not be certain which one she would take. He had to wait, though his whole being strained to be away.
The Abbey bell was tolling quarter to midnight when he first heard her, in the swish of satin upon gravel, then saw her, running down the moonlit path. ‘Letty,’ he called, and in a moment she was in his arms.
‘Oh, Beverley! My Beverley!’
Previously, he had only gone so far as pressing his lips to the inside of her wrist. Now, she was close enough for him to feel the speed of her heartbeat. He bent, sought, found lips, kissed. A moment of resistance, a longer one of giving, and then she pulled away, looking back the way she had come.
‘Are you pursued?’ he said.
‘I am not certain.’
There was an alcove in the stonework of the dock. Jack pulled her into it, a space so small that he had to keep her pressed to him. ‘Why were you so long? I thought you weren’t coming.’
‘My aunt was hard to elude. Especially when she heard the gossip.’
‘What gossip?’
His eyes had adjusted to the night. He could see the smile. ‘About you, sir. Our whist partner suspected something. I had to spill tea over the cards to get a new deck and prevent her looking at the Jack of Clubs. This increased her suspicions. “Lawks, ’ee was ever so ’andsome, weren’t ’ee, sugar? Did you not fink so?” ’
They both laughed. The accent was, as ever, finely done. ‘She was seeking to know if I had any prior claim. Otherwise I believe I could have sold her the “address to your lodgings” for ten guineas.’ She reached into her purse, produced the card. In a softer voice, she said, ‘But I would not part with it for a thousand, nay, at any price.’
The look she gave him then, the memory of her lips upon his, made him pull her closer again. Then from the park came the sound of voices, calling her name.
He moved away. ‘We must be swift, my love. Your aunt’s vigilance will be all the more severe now. We may not get the chance to meet and talk again. We must make our plans now.’
‘Plans?’
‘For our elopement.’ She gasped and he bent again, till he could see into her eyes. ‘You will marry me, won’t you, Letty?’
‘Well …’ Her eyes had flicked downwards and he realized what she wanted. Instantly, he kneeled. ‘Laetitia Fitzpatrick,’ he said softly, ‘will you make me the happiest man on the planet? Will you consent to be my wife?’
‘I will,’ she replied, and raised him once again to her lips, to a kiss that left them both breathless and his mind adrift.
Those voices, calling again, brought it back. ‘We must fly, as soon as I can organize everything. A week, at most—’
‘It must be tomorrow, Beverley,’ she interrupted, her voice urgent, ‘because something has happened. Something terrible.’
‘What?’
‘My aunt met a man in the street yesterday. He’d been seeking her out apparently. They conferred for some time in a coffee-house while I was taking communion. I emerged to discover …’ She paused, looked up at him and tears had come to her eyes, ‘that she had betrothed me to this man’s son.’ It was Jack’s turn to gasp and she went on, ‘So you have a rival, sir, and one they will try to force me to marry. They want me to meet him at breakfast and accept him before lunch.’
Jack was surprised at the intensity of his jealousy. Here he had won the girl and she was being promised to someone else. ‘Who is this rival?’ he said.
‘They only told me his name at the very end, as if it did not matter, as if it was of no concern.’ She had grown angry now. ‘And as soon as I heard it I thought: how poorly that name contrasts with my dear Beverley’s.’
‘Yes,’ said Jack, his jaw tight, ‘but who is he?’
‘His name’s Absolute,’ she said. ‘Jack Absolute.’
For the briefest moment, his anger held him, as if he hadn’t really heard the name but was prepared to hate the man regardless. When realization came, he could only stutter, ‘J- J- Jack …’
‘Absolute. Do you know him?’
Too many answers came all at once. ‘Do you know, I think … I may have met him once—’
‘If he is anything like his father he is a rough, big-nosed, black-browed Cornishman. Does that sound like the man?’
‘Um, possibly. I scarcely remember the fellow. Not too big a nose, as I recall.’
His mind was swamped. Should he reveal himself to her, now that all – save she – were in favour of the union? He was tempted instantly to resolve matters that had become so complicated. But he’d wooed and won her as Beverley. It was a stratagem whose … subtlety she might not yet appreciate. And since she seemed so set against all things Absolute, that revelation should probably await another time. Perhaps when they were standing before an altar.
Once more, voices, much closer now, brought him back to present concerns. Seizing her hands, he whispered, ‘You are right. Tomorrow it must be. Make sure your aunt has more than her usual dose of Hungary-water. I will be behind your house at midnight with a coach.’
‘A coach? How can my poor Beverley’s purse run to that?’
He must be careful! ‘Egad, you are right. It will have to be horses. I’ll steal them. Can you ride?’
She gave him a contemptuous look. ‘I am from the County of Clare, sir, where the best horses in the world are raised and raced and—’
‘Yes, well, I doubt I’ll find you one of those,’ Jack said, ‘but I’ll …’ Another noise distracted him. Not voices this time. ‘What is that?’
She tipped her head. ‘The Abbey bells. It must be midnight.’
Midnight, Jack thought, his much-confused brai
n seeking something. Twelve bells …
Then he was gone, out of the alcove, sprinting flat out.
‘Beverley,’ she cried.
‘Tomorrow,’ he called back. ‘Midnight.’
He was aware of others in the park, quite close by. A woman’s voice came. ‘You! Whoever you are! Stop!’
He couldn’t stop. He had nothing to say to Mrs O’Farrell. Especially when the fourth bell of midnight had just sounded.
He’d always been fast. But his fever had perhaps sapped a little speed and his boots were meant for a stirrup, not gravel and grass. Still he was convinced he’d have made a run he estimated at about two hundred yards before the twelfth bell sounded if he hadn’t been laughing so hard.
His father was going to disinherit him unless he married the girl he wanted to marry! It was almost too perfect.
The final bell’s echo was still in the air when Jack slid along the cobbles into the Abbey churchyard. Bath, as usual, was cleared of inhabitants, all gone to rest up for their invalid exertions the next day. So the figure just about to disappear up an alley opposite the church’s portico had to be …
‘Sir! Sir!’ Jack called.
The figure took a few more steps, then halted, did not turn. Jack ran across.
‘Father?’
The coat was the same rough garment Sir James had worn earlier, the voice when it came, undoubtedly his. ‘Well, puppy?’
Relief warred with breathlessness. Jack put his hands on his knees, breathed deep. ‘A moment … sir … if you please …’
‘Quickly, ye poltroon. For whom has the bell tolled? For thee, boy. For thee!’
Jack was unaware that his father was conversant with John Donne, his reading being mainly confined to the broadsheets, so he could damn the government, and military manuals so he could fight the French. Lady Jane’s influence, certainly. ‘I noted it, sir, and thank you for your indulgence. Might we extend it further and go to a tavern—’
‘I go nowhere with a disobedient dog,’ Sir James growled, ‘and I desire to spend no time with someone who is no longer my son.’
‘But I hope to own that title again, sir,’ Jack breathed deep, ‘by submitting entirely to your will.’
‘What’s that?’ Shock turned his father. ‘What do you say?’
Jack straightened. ‘I have reflected on your words, your urgings to honour and the family. I have decided that you are, as usual, entirely in the right.’ He wondered if he’d gone too far. Suspicion was still clear in his father’s eyes. He hurried on. ‘This is too dangerous a time for Absolutes to do anything other than their duty.’
‘So you’ll marry the girl?’
‘Girl. Widow. Aged spinster. Whomsoever you choose.’
‘Why, Jack! Jack!’ His father had stepped back, arms wide, and before he knew it he was crushed in his father’s embrace. ‘Then let us to this tavern of yours and drink to sense and reconciliation, eh? But I thought there was nowhere in this plague house of a town where a man could quench his thirst after midnight.’
‘Not usually, sir, indeed. But the innkeeper of the Three Tuns has profited much of me of late and might remember it.’
‘I’ll wager he has, ye dog.’ Sir James slapped him hard upon the back. ‘Let’s to him, then, and on the way, I shall tell you what your insolence and passion prevented me from doing before. Of the beauty that is to be yours.’
‘She’s not a crone, then, sir? Twice my weight with a temper to go with her size?’
‘I know naught of her temper. She’s Irish and red-haired so likely to have one. I am acquainted with the type, since I am married to your mother.’ His father shook his head ruefully. ‘But as to beauty, she has that beyond anything a scoundrel like you deserves.’
As they walked, Sir James told him more of his good fortune. How the idea of an alliance with a powerful house had been sown into his mind by his friends in London and in his ride to Bath, the seed had taken root. ‘And when, on arrival, I chanced to read that one Laetitia Fitzpatrick, niece to the Earl of Clare, was the toast of Bath society, well …’ Again he clapped his son upon the back. ‘As you know, I am not a religious man. But it appeared to me to be a sign as bright as any burning bush. For Clare is cousin to the Duke of Newcastle who, now Pitt has resigned, is the First Minister of the land.’
Jack shook his head. His father had planned to marry him off on the strength of a report in a tattle column! From anyone else such peremptory action would have seemed incredible. But this was ‘Mad Jamie’ Absolute after all, the man who’d charged all alone into a troop of French Dragoons at Dettingen and driven them from the field. Still, Jack knew he might not have been so sanguine about the tyranny had the object settled upon not been the woman he happened to love.
He halted and his father looked up. ‘Isn’t this the place we were at before?’
‘It is, sir.’
They entered, and the sleepy landlord was coerced into bringing ale. Once tankards were before them, Sir James recommenced expressing his self-satisfaction.
‘I chanced to hear the girl’s name called upon the West Parade. I advanced and victory was nigh certain. The only setback was your damned insolence.’
‘For which I again apologize, sir,’ Jack said dutifully, ‘though I confess I am a little confused as to how you obtained her guardian’s consent?’
‘Ah. Well there, I admit, I was forced to employ a little dissimulation.’ His father grinned, leaned in. ‘For Mrs O’Farrell had not heard of our family’s temporary inconvenience. Since I did not mention it, she readily agreed to a union she was sure would meet the approval of her cousin, the Earl. Indeed, she informed me that their purpose in Bath was to find just such a suitable match and that her cousin had expressed such confidence in her judgement the banns could be read tomorrow and the girl married next Thursday.’ He beamed. ‘The business was concluded over a bowl of chocolate and only your assent required. Now we have that …’ Sir James smacked his lips.
‘And the girl’s?’
‘The girl’s? Humph! What signifies that?’ He waved a finger. ‘Daughters know their places better than sons do, never fear. We will go and see her tomorrow to hear her joyful acceptance. Though I risk encountering someone I know – half the judiciary seem to be taking the waters here presently – it is a risk I will gladly take to see my son happy.’ He drank and belched contentedly.
Jack traced a puddle of beer with his finger. ‘Sir, may I suggest two things?’
‘You may try.’ Ale and acquiescence had mellowed the older man.
Jack attempted an earnest expression. ‘I do worry for your safety. What would happen if you were taken and charged for Melbury’s death before the business is complete?’
Sir James contemplated this. Encouraged, Jack continued.
‘And I have heard of this girl. Indeed she is quite the topic in the coffee-houses. Gossip tells how she is whimsical. She is renowned for her passion for romance.’
‘Romance?’ His father snorted. ‘What’s that to duty?’
‘Nothing to me, of course, sir. But apparently it is to her. If I could only get her to love me for myself as well as for the alliance …’ He frowned earnestly. ‘I believe, sir, that things would proceed so much more smoothly.’
Sir James drank, considered. ‘You may be right. Young people today seem not to have the same respect as we did in my youth. And these matters take a little arranging anyway. So long as we announce the engagement, we bring the forces of the Earl of Clare into our army straightaway.’
‘And if we announce it in two weeks?’
‘Two weeks, eh? Hmm.’ He finished the mug and Jack immediately signalled to the landlord for replenishment. ‘I suppose a fortnight is not far off. It may take me that long to get back to your mother in Germany. And if I make the announcement from there, as soon as I arrive …’ The beers came and Sir James raised his. ‘Very well, boy, I’ll indulge this romance you all seem so obsessed by. To love, you puppy. To love.’
&nbs
p; The love I have, thought Jack. And two weeks on the highways, two weeks of unromantic poverty, should lessen my Letty’s desire for it considerably. By the time all is revealed, I’ll have my beautiful girl and her beautiful fortune. And I’ll have done my Absolute duty.
Raising his tankard, he glimpsed the landlord staring at them from the corner and wondered which Absolute the fellow thought wore the more satisfied smile.
They drank deep into the night, the yawning publican contented by a gold crown to leave them to his barrels – though Jack was not sure he got a bargain. His father’s good humour entirely restored, it was time to swap stories of their recent escapades. Sir James was a suitably impressed audience, loudly applauding all tales of combat, happily appalled by the tattoos Jack showed him on chest and forearm.
Light was in the sky when they staggered out. Sir James seemed to have drunk himself sober and would not hear of staying at Jack’s house. ‘I will away,’ he said. ‘It’s a long ride to Harwich and a hazardous crossing to Hamburg. Your mother awaits.’
Jack knew there was no arguing with him. And to be truthful, it was better he was gone. Sir James’s moods were notoriously changeable. He’d wake with a sore head and haul Jack and Letty before a priest on a whim. ‘Kiss her for me.’
‘I will, lad. And you shall see us both soon – at your wedding.’
Not unless you ride via Scotland, Jack thought. He walked his father to his inn, saw his horse saddled. In his stirrups, Sir James leaned down.
‘Godspeed, boy. If the girl is imbecilic enough to fall for your romance, I shall just have to accept that I will get idiots for grandchildren.’ The smile belied the words. ‘Love and duty,’ Sir James cried, swinging the horse’s head, digging in his heels.
Jack watched his father till a corner took him, then he began a slightly meandering ascent to the Upper Town. He was ready for his bed now, for the few hours sleep he could allow. He must be up early – an elopement took organizing and he only had one day to do it.
He thought of going in the front door. Surely the girl would not be watching from her house opposite at this hour? Yet caution, this close to the prize, made him tread the gravel behind the Circus. Next door, all remnants of building work had been cleared away. The house was almost ready for the royal visit.