He blinked in astonishment at her. She smiled and left the room, cheekily blowing him a kiss as she left.
How the blazes had she somehow just made her own wishes actually out to be in his own interests?
He almost smiled. He’d married a woman far too clever by half.
So he supposed that she was right.
Twenty-four
It seemed fairly clear to Adelia that as soon as the Christmas and New Year celebrations were over, Mrs Dymchurch planned to flee. Adelia was convinced beyond doubt, at last, that Mrs Dymchurch was guilty. It was likely that she would leave the country and thus evade the grasp of the authorities for ever. Most people went to the continent. Indeed, certain parts of Southern France and Italy were almost legendary in their status as havens for dissolute or exiled aristocrats.
Although life was already back to normal for the majority of the working populace, it was different for the upper classes. Their winter parties could extend for many weeks. Then there would be a quiet period throughout January and February. The official Season would begin in April, as horse racing started up, and soon there would be a renewed whirl of parties and cultural events until the heat of summer forced everyone out of the town and into their country estates. At the moment, then, there was a strangeness in the atmosphere as all the faceless machinery of the common man returned to the grindstone but the socialites danced on.
Now it was time for the exclusive gallery opening. Adelia, Theodore, Robert and Charlotte rode in a covered carriage through London’s packed streets but outside, the general air of relaxation and festivity had already dissipated. Working people hurried along, clad in shabby tones of brown and grey, their shouts more likely to be ones of anger not celebration. Winter was biting down. It was hard to be poor and now there were no more parties for the ordinary folk to look forward to; only poverty, illness, and deprivation.
The carriage suddenly stopped. Adelia nudged Theodore to find out what was going on. Darkness had fallen by now, of course, and it was hard to tell what was happening. Theodore stuck his head out of the window but everyone complained at the cold draught he let in so he was forced to disembark from the carriage and close the door behind him.
He returned with bad news. “A brewer’s dray has overturned up ahead and that’s not really the main problem. The big issue is that everyone thinks this is their chance to make off with a barrel of beer and the road, and every road around it, is packed with chancers. We won’t be able to get to the gallery on time for the inaugural speeches.”
“We shall have to walk. I know where we are, and it’s really not too far,” said Adelia.
“Mama! I am not wearing the right shoes to walk anywhere,” Charlotte cried in horror.
“Well, that was foolish of you.”
“I hardly expected to have to walk like any commoner.”
Adelia squinted at her daughter. “You are sounding rather snobbish, my dear. A brisk stroll will do you good.”
“It will ruin my shoes and hurt my ankles.”
“Well, you could stay here in the carriage, of course.” Adelia smiled and let Theodore help her down into the street. “I shall see you there later.”
Theodore wrapped an extra cloak around Adelia’s shoulders and they set off. When she glanced backwards, she saw that Charlotte was reluctantly getting down and Robert was helping her to organise her dress and skirts so that she could walk without getting too dusty or marked.
They will soon catch up, Adelia thought, being young and fit, regardless of their footwear. She didn’t want to linger and get cold so she strode on ahead with Theodore. They slipped down a side street to avoid the largest crush of opportunists trying to roll the barrels of beer away. There was a growing flood of policemen who coming in from all sides to try and stop the looting. There was also a great crowd of people who just wanted to watch the fun, hoping for a fight.
They soon left the mêlée behind them. They were not far from the gallery when Adelia gasped and grabbed at Theodore’s arm. “Look! There he is!”
“What?”
Adelia let go of her husband and ran forward impulsively. A man with a cloak, its hood curiously long and pointed, was walking along the pavement up ahead of them. This street was narrow and rather quiet. He was the only person she could see. She ran, and grabbed at his cloak, shouting, “Sir! Turn around!”
The man reacted instinctively, as anyone would who had just been grabbed from behind by a stranger at night in a city street. He flung his arm out as he spun around, his cloak billowing up in a puff, and he knocked Adelia backwards so that she stumbled as she fell.
Theodore was upon him in an instant. “How dare you! That is Lady Calaway you have just struck, you blackguard, you ruffian, you scoundrel! Now you shall pay for it!”
Adelia scrabbled up to her feet and watched in horror as the two men wrestled with one another. Theodore tried to grab at the man’s hood but the man wrenched his head away and blocked Theodore with his arm. Theodore lost his grip, no doubt hampered by his dodgy shoulder, and the man shoved at him, but Theodore used an old trick and grabbed the hooded man’s arms to pull him in the direction he had shoved, stepping to one side to allow the hooded man to tumble forwards. Theodore was upon him the moment that the man hit the ground, raising his fist to strike.
“No!” cried the stricken man. “No, father! Father, stay your hand!”
Theodore froze.
Adelia could hardly breathe.
The man on the ground wriggled and his hood
