Bath Tangle

She shook her head wonderingly. “Grandmama would not like it! Besides, everyone would stare!”

“Not here! But we must meet! Emily, I have only just learnt of this—this engagement you have entered into! Have been forced into! I know you cannot—I have come all the way from Scarborough to see you! Quickly, where may we meet?”

Her hand trembled in his; she whispered: “Oh—! I don’t know! It is so dreadful! I am very unhappy!”

He caught his breath. “I knew it!”

There was no time for more; they were obliged to take their places in the set; to school their countenances; and to exchange such conversation as was suitable to the occasion. When the movement of the dance brought them together, Gerard said: “Will your grandmama permit me to visit her?”

“Yes, but pray take care! She said I must not be too friendly, only then I told her you were Lord Rotherham’s ward, and so she will ask you to dine with us, and go to the Sydney Gardens tomorrow. Oh, Gerard, I do not know what to do!”

He squeezed her fingers. “I have come to save you!”

She found nothing to smile at in this announcement, but threw him a look brimful of gratitude and admiration as they parted again, and waited hopefully to know how her rescue was to be accomplished.

She had to remain in suspense until the following evening; and when he was at last able to disclose his plans to her, she found them disappointing.

After dining in Beaufort Square, and taking immense pains to ingratiate himself with Mrs Floore, Gerard accompanied the ladies to the Sydney Gardens, where various entertainments, ranging from illuminations to dancing, were provided for Bath’s visitors. Here, by great good fortune, a crony of Mrs Floore’s was encountered, who had been staying at Lyme Regis for some weeks. The two ladies naturally had much gossip to exchange; and when they were fairly launched in intimate conversation, Gerard seized the opportunity to beg permission to take Emily to look at the waterfalls, which had all been illuminated for the occasion. “I will take good care of her, ma’am!” he promised.

Mrs Floore nodded indulgently. She still thought him an agreeable youth, but he would have been affronted had he known how swiftly and how accurately she had summed him up. He was, in her estimation, a harmless boy, scarcely fledged as yet, but anxious to convince everyone that he was a buck of the first head. She had been much amused, at dinner, by the carelessness with which he related anecdotes of ton; and when, encouraged by a good nature which he mistook for respect, he played off a few of the airs of an exquisite, her eyes twinkled appreciatively, and she decided that however much pride and sensibility the Marquis might have he could scarcely take exception to Emily’s accepting the escort of so callow a young gentleman.

Since two or three thousand persons were in the Gardens, it was some little time before Gerard could find a vacant and sufficiently secluded nook to appropriate. All his mind was concentrated on this, but Emily, who possessed the faculty of living only in the immediate present, kept on stopping to exclaim at Merlin grottoes, or cascades, or festoons of coloured lanterns. However, he eventually discovered a discreet arbour, persuaded her to enter it, and to sit down upon the rustic bench there. Seating himself beside her, he clasped her mittened hand, and uttered: “Tell me the whole!”

She was not articulate, and found this command hard to obey. Her account of her engagement was neither fluent nor coherent, but by dint of frequently interpolated questions he was able to piece the story together, if not entirely to understand the circumstances which had induced her to enter into an engagement with a man for whom she felt not a scrap of affection. He believed that her mother’s tyranny accounted for all, and failed to perceive that the prospect of becoming a Marchioness had strongly attracted her. Nor had he the smallest suspicion that her sentiments towards himself had undergone a change.

She had been taken quite by surprise. She had had no notion that Rotherham had a decided preference for her, for although he had been her host at the Rotherham House ball, it had been Mrs Monksleigh whose name had figured on the invitation card, and she had quite thought that he had had nothing to say in the matter.

“He never troubled himself at all, that you may be sure of!” said Gerard. “I made Mama invite you!”

“Oh, did you? How very kind that was of you! I never enjoyed anything half as much, did you? It was a magnificent ball! I had no notion how grand Rotherham House is! So many handsome saloons, and hundreds of footmen, and that huge crystal chandelier in the ballroom, sparkling like diamonds, and your Mama standing at the head of the great staircase—”

“Yes, yes, I know!” Gerard said, a trifle impatiently. “But Rotherham didn’t even solicit you to dance, did he?”

“Oh, no! He only said how do you do to me, and of course I had no expectation of his asking me to stand up with him, with so many grand people there! In fact, until we—we became engaged, I never did dance with him, except that once, at Quenbury. We were for ever meeting, at parties, you know, and he was always very civil to me, and sometimes he paid me a compliment, only—only—I don’t know how it is, but when he says a thing that sounds pretty, he does so in a way that—well, in a way that makes one feel that he is being satirical!”

“You need not tell me that!” said Gerard, with a darkling look. “When did he commence making up to you?”

“Oh, never! In fact, I had no notion he was disposed to like me, for whenever he talked to me it was in a quizzing way, which put me quite out of countenance. So you may imagine my astonishment when Mama told me he had offered for me! Mama says he behaved with the greatest propriety, exactly as he ought.”

“Behaved with the greatest propriety?” echoed Gerard incredulously. “Cousin Rotherham? Why, he doesn’t give a groat for such stuff! He always does just as he chooses, and doesn’t care for ceremony, or for having distinguished manners, or for showing people proper observance, or anything like that!”

“Oh, yes, Gerard, he does!” Emily said earnestly, raising her eyes to his face. “He becomes dreadfully vexed if one does not behave just as he says one ought, or—or if one is shy, and does not know how to talk to people! He—says very cutting things, d-doesn’t he? If one angers him!”

“So he has treated you to his devilish ill-humour already, has he?” demanded Gerard, his eyes kindling. “Pretty conduct towards his betrothed, upon my word! It is just as I thought! He does not love you! I believe he wishes to marry you only to spite me!”

She shook her head, turning away her face. “No, no! He does love me, only—Oh, I don’t want to be married to him!”

“Good God, you shall not be!” he said vehemently, seizing her hand, and kissing it. “I cannot think how you could have consented! That he should have behaved to you in such a way—!”

“Oh, no! Not then!” she explained, “How could I say I would not, when Mama had arranged it, and was so pleased with me? It is very wrong not to obey one’s parents, and even Papa was pleased, too, for he said that after all I was not such a complete zero as he had thought. And Mama said I should learn to love Lord Rotherham, and he would give me everything I could possibly desire, besides making me a great lady, with all those houses, and my own carriage, and a Marchioness’s robes, if there should happen to be a Coronation; which, of course, there must be, mustn’t there? Because the poor King—”

“But, Emily, all that is nothing!” protested Gerard. “You would not sell yourself for a Marchioness’s coronet!”

“No,” agreed Emily, rather doubtfully. “I did think at first that perhaps—But that was when Lord Rotherham was behaving with propriety.”

Aghast, and quite thunderstruck, Gerard demanded: “Do you mean to tell me that Rotherham—that Rotherham used you improperly? It is worse even than I guessed! Good God, I would never have believed—”

“No, no!” stammered Emily, blushing fierily, and hanging down her head. “It was only that he is a man of strong passions! Mama explained it to me, and she said I must be flattered by—by the violence of his feelings. But —I don’t like to be k-kissed so roughly, and that m-makes him angry, and—Oh, Gerard, I am afraid of him!”

“He is the greatest beast in nature!” Gerard said, his voice shaking with indignation. “You must tell him at once that you cannot marry him!”

Her eyes widened in startled dismay. “C-cry off? I can’t! M-mama would not allow me to!”