The Beau and the Bluestocking: Romantic intrigue in Regency London by Alice Chetwynd Ley

Author:Alice Chetwynd Ley [Chetwynd Ley, Alice]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Sapere Books
Published: 2018-08-09T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter XIII

Allerton rose at once to make his bow, but there was no mistaking the coldness of Mrs Manbury’s greeting, in marked contrast to her usual way of speaking to him. Her face was like a thundercloud. After a few polite attempts at conversation which were icily repulsed, he took his leave with a slightly hangdog air.

No sooner had the door closed upon him than the storm burst.

‘What can you mean, Miss, by receiving a gentleman when you are alone in the house, and sitting with him in that intimate way?’ demanded Mrs Manbury, in a towering passion. ‘Are you quite lost to all sense of propriety and prudence? Only wait until your father learns of this — as he shall do, I give you my word, the moment he sets foot in the house!’

Alethea could not help thinking that her poor uncle was in for a wretched homecoming, and that could he but know of it, he would most likely go to his Club instead.

Lydia for once looked both contrite and frightened. ‘It was nothing, Mama, truly — the merest accident! He hadn’t been here much above ten minutes — I swear it!’

‘Then that was ten minutes too long! But I don’t need to tell you that! What could you be thinking of to have him admitted to the house at all in my absence, or unless your cousin had been here, at least, to preserve the proprieties? You know better than this, my girl, and we’ll see if your father can improve the lesson you seem to have forgot! Never in all my life —’

‘Mama, it was not either of our faults, truly it wasn’t.’ Lydia was sobbing now. ‘The footman didn’t say you were from home, he just showed him in — Vivyan was as surprised as I was — he stood there for a moment — then — then — he had something to tell me about the arrangements for — for — the Masquerade —’ she produced the word with a gulp — ‘and it seemed s-silly not to say it, since — since he was there —’

Mrs Manbury’s unnaturally high colour subsided a little. ‘I’ll speak to Dawkins,’ she said, ominously. ‘Anyway, you should have told Vivyan to come back later, and had him shown out at once. Don’t you realise how servants gossip, foolish girl? Suppose this should come to Bedwyn’s ears, especially if he should also learn how much you and Allerton have been seeing of each other lately! It should well put him off!’

‘I don’t care if it does,’ muttered Lydia mutinously, drying her eyes with the handkerchief which Alethea had passed to her after she had failed to find her own. ‘I’m sick of hearing Bedwyn’s name — sick, I tell you!’

She threw back her head, prepared to go into a fit of hysterics, but Mrs Manbury was too quick for her. A sharp slap on the face brought Lydia to her senses. With one hand nursing the rapidly reddening cheek, she sat still, glowering at her mother.

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