knows where—”
“You may be certain of one thing at least, ma’am!” interrupted Serena. “She has not run away alone!”
Mr Goring directed a steady look at her. “Is there an attachment between her and young Monksleigh, ma’am?”
She shrugged. “On her side, I should very much doubt it; on his, evidently! I shall be sorry for him if it ever comes to Rotherham’s ears that he persuaded Emily into this escapade! It is the most disgraceful thing to have done, and if he comes off with a whole skin he may think himself fortunate! Mrs Floore, pray don’t cry! The matter is not past mending, I assure you. I collect that Gerard came to Bath to see Emily, not to stay with friends: has he been to this house? Had you no suspicion of what was in the wind?”
“No, my dear, because Emma said he was the Marquis’s ward, which made it seem right to me, and besides which I thought he was such a twiddle-poop there wasn’t the least harm in letting him go with us to the Gala night, which I did.”
Serena smiled, but said: “Depend upon it, this dramatic flight was his notion, not Emily’s, ma’am! What is more, I would wager my pearls all this nonsense about Rotherham was put into her silly head by him! But let us not waste time in discussing that! What we have to do is to get her back. Mr Goring, I shall need your help!”
“I shall be happy to do everything in my power. Lady Serena, to restore Miss Laleham to Mrs Floore, but I will have no hand in forcing her into marriage with a man whom she fears,” he replied bluntly.
“Let me see anyone dare!” said Mrs Floore. “Only fetch her back to me, and trust me to send this Marquis to the rightabout, and Sukey too!”
There is no question of forcing her to marry Rotherham,”said Serena. “When she meets him again, I fancy she will discover that the extremely unamiable portrait she has painted of him is wide of the mark. Is it known when she left the house?”
“No, because no one saw her go, only she wasn’t gone before ten o’clock, that Betsey swears to, for she heard her moving about in her bedroom when she passed the door. And she ate a bite of bread and butter, and drank a cup of coffee, before she went, and Stoke says the tray was taken up to her at a quarter to ten, just as usual. For I don’t get up to breakfast myself, so Emma has hers in bed too.”
“Come, this is much better!” said Serena. “I feared she might have left overnight, in which case we should have had something to do indeed. Mr Goring, have you met Gerard Monksleigh?”
“I met him at the theatre last night, ma’am.”
“Then you will be able to describe him,” said Serena briskly. “We may be sure of this: they are not lurking in Bath! I do Gerard the justice to think that he means to marry Emily—though how he imagines he may do so, when each of them is under age, is more than I can tell! It would be in keeping with all the rest if he is bearing her off to Gretna Green, but where he found the money for such a journey is again more than I can tell! He may, of course, be taking her to London, with some hopeful notion of procuring a special license there.”
“Oh, my dear, supposing he has it in his pocket already?” exclaimed Mrs Floore. “Supposing he went to Wells, or Bristol, and has married her? Oh, I don’t want her to go throwing herself away on that young fellow!”
“Don’t distress yourself, ma’am! He would find it difficult to induce anyone to believe he is of age.”
“Lady Serena is right, ma’am,” interpolated Mr Goring. “He would be required to bring proof of his age, for he looks a stripling. What do you wish me to do, Lady Serena?”
“To visit the posting-houses here, of course. I imagine you must know them well. Discover if Gerard hired a chaise, and where it was to take him. Did you ride here from Bristol? Is your horse in Bath?”
“I drove here, ma’am, in my curricle. If I should be able to discover the road they took, I can have the horses put to in a trice,” he replied. “I’ll set out immediately.”
“Ned Goring, I’ll go all the way to Land’s End for Emma, but I’ll do it decently!” declared Mrs Floore. “Don’t you think to hoist me into any nasty, open carriage! A chaise-and-four, that’s what you’ll hire!”
“My dear ma’am, you are going to remain quietly here,” said Serena. “It would be quite unfit for you to be rocked and jolted for heaven knows how many hours! Moreover, if this exploit is to be kept secret, it is most necessary that you should be here. If Rotherham is indeed on his way to Bath, he will have to be fobbed off, you know. Whatever be the issue between him and Emily, you cannot wish him to know how scandalously she is behaving—or Lady Laleham either, for that matter! You must tell them both that Emily has gone with a party on an expedition of pleasure. And as for your curricle, Mr Goring, leave it where it is! We shall catch our runaways very much more speedily if we ride, and we shan’t advertise to every pike-keeper, and every chance traveller, that we are racing in pursuit of someone. That is a thing we should do our best to avoid.”
He stared at her. “You do not mean to go, ma’am!”
“Of course I mean to go!” she replied impatiently. “How in the world do you think you could manage without me? You are quite unrelated to Emily; you cannot compel her to return with you! All that would happen, I dare swear, is that you and Gerard would be fighting it out, with the post-boys as seconds, and then there
He was too much surprised to hear such an expression on her lips to smile at the absurdity of the picture she conjured up. “But you will not
“Mr Goring, have you ever hunted with the Cottesmore?” she demanded.
“No, ma’am, I have not, but—”
“Well, I have done so every year!” she said. “There is no country like it for long and fast runs. It is said to be the wildest and the roughest of the Shires, you know. So don’t waste solicitude on me, I beg of you! My mare was bred to stay, and she’s as fresh as she can stare. The only difficulty will be
His sense of decorum, which was strong, was shocked by the thought of a lady’s setting out, quite unchaperoned, on a chase that might lead her many miles from Bath, but he attempted no further remonstrance. He was conscious of the same sensation which had more than once assailed Major Kirkby, of being swept along irresistibly by an impetuous, vigorous will, against which it was impossible to fight. It was plain to him that the Lady Serena was going to assume the control of the chase. He wondered whether she had considered the possibility of finding herself, at nightfall, out of reach of her home, unprovided with so much as a hairbrush, and escorted by a single gentleman, but he did not venture to put the question to her. He said instead: “I know where I may procure a good horse. Lady Serena.”
“Excellent! Then will you go now, and see what you can discover? Inform my groom, if you please, that my plans have been altered. I am going with Miss Laleham to join a picnic party, and since we do not set out immediately he must walk the mare a little, till I am ready for her.”
“You will not take him with you?” he suggested tentatively.
“No, certainly not: he would be a confounded nuisance, for ever trying to persuade me to turn back! I had rather have your escort Mr Goring!” she replied, with the flash of a smile.
He stammered that he would be honoured to serve her, and went away to obey her various commands.
Mrs Floore, who had been sitting limply on the sofa, listening to this exchange, a gleam of hope in her eyes, but the lines on her face deeply carven all at once, said, with an effort: “I ought not to let you go, my lady. I know I ought not. Whatever will Lady Spenborough say to me?”
Serena laughed. “Why, nothing, ma’am! I am going to write to her, and Fobbing shall take the letter to her. I must tell her what has taken me away, I am afraid, but you may rest assured the story is safe with her. May I write at your desk?”
“Oh, yes, my lady!” Mrs Floore answered mechanically. She sat plucking restlessly at a fold of her dressing- gown, and suddenly demanded: “What did he do to her? Why did he scare her out of her senses? Why did he want to offer for her, if he didn’t love her?”
“Exactly!” said Serena dryly. “An unanswerable question, is it not? I believe the truth is, ma’am, that he is more in love with her than she can as yet understand. She is very young—quite childish, in fact!—and not, I think, of a passionate disposition. It is otherwise with him, and that, unless I much mistake the matter, is what alarmed her. What can she have known of love, after all? A few discreet flirtations, the homage of a boy like Gerard, protestations, compliments, respectful hand-kissings! She would not get such tepid stuff from Rotherham! No doubt her shrinking provoked him! I can believe that he let her see that he is not a man to be trifled with, but as for giving her cause to fly from him, in this outrageous fashion, stuff and nonsense! Of course he should have guessed that it would be necessary to handle her at first with the greatest gentleness! It is unfortunate that he did not, but we
