Beatrice Goes to Brighton (5 page)

To the amazed Hannah she told of her forced engagement and her parents’ threat and how she had only secured her brief freedom from Sir Geoffrey and his mother by promising to try to get Miss Pym to use her influence on Sir Geoffrey’s behalf to get him a title.

It was no use, Hannah reflected, to protest that parents did not force their daughters into marriage, when there was ample proof of it almost every day. Marriages were mostly business deals, and money was at the root of all such arrangements.

‘And you have no money of your own?’ asked Hannah.

‘No. My husband gambled away a vast fortune and left me debts. My parents paid those debts and settled a generous allowance on me. I naïvely thought my worries were over.’

‘But have you no aunts, uncles, other relations to appeal to for help?’

‘My parents are elderly now: my aunts and uncles are dead. I have two nephews, both in India, that is all.’

Hannah twisted her fingers in distress. ‘My dear Lady Beatrice, if I thought I could get away with this masquerade which has been thrust upon me, I would for your sake. For when you tell Sir Geoffrey that it is not true – and
he
is bound to believe you, knowing that you have every reason to hope it to be true – then you will be forced to return to his mother’s house.’

‘Perhaps not,’ said Lady Beatrice. ‘He was not so sure of me until my parents’ letter reached him after we had arrived in Brighton. In it, they assured him that they would turn me out into the street if I did not wed him. But as to your problem, I do not have the ear of the Prince of Wales, but Lord Alistair Munro does. I do not know him very well, but I know he is much admired. Why not send for him and tell him all?’

Hannah looked at her with hope dawning on her face. ‘Will he not think me ridiculous?’

‘I shall be amazed if he does. Most of society, on the other hand, is ridiculous. He has probably heard the gossip already.’

Hannah went to a desk in the corner and pulled forward a sheet of paper. ‘I shall send Benjamin with a note. Oh, how I wish you could stay, for I dread to think what he will say.’

‘I will stay,’ said Lady Beatrice. ‘No doubt Sir Geoffrey has one of his servants stationed outside this house to report how I am faring. When he hears that I spent a long time with you, he will be in alt. I have no intention of disabusing him. Let him find out for himself.’

Benjamin was sent with the note and Hannah went through to the kitchen to make tea, happy that as Lady Beatrice knew her circumstances, she did not have to pretend to have a host of servants tucked away. She clucked angrily when she saw that the twenty-two-pound sugar loaf which Benjamin had brought in that morning was still sitting there,
looking
as hard as granite. She then reflected that Benjamin had not been trained and therefore did not yet know his duties, and she chipped off the required amount, pounded it into granules, and put it into a sugar-bowl.

When she went back into the parlour, she found that Lady Beatrice had fallen silently and soundlessly asleep in her chair. Hannah set down the tray of tea-things on a table, wondering whether to wake her,
wondering why the chilly Lady Beatrice had elected to stay. She did not look hard or cold in sleep, but young and vulnerable.

A log fell on the hearth and Lady Beatrice awoke instantly and blinked and looked around.

‘I am sorry, Miss Pym,’ she said, ‘but I have not slept well since I arrived in Brighton.’

Hannah poured tea. ‘I must warn you, Lady Beatrice,’ she said awkwardly, ‘that although Lord Alistair has been extremely kind to me, he does not appear to approve of you.’

‘How so? I barely know the man.’

Hannah hesitated.

‘Out with it. We have both been so frank with each other, ’twere a pity to dissemble now.’

‘Lord Alistair, I regret to say, damns you as a heartless flirt.’

‘What ails the man? We all flirt. ’Tis the fashion.’

‘He had a friend, a captain, and he said you encouraged his advances, only to break his heart.’

‘Fustian.’ Lady Beatrice coloured and turned her head slightly away.

Hannah heard a key turning in the front door. ‘That is Benjamin,’ she said. ‘Let us hope he brought Lord Alistair with him.’

Lord Alistair strolled into the parlour and put up his quizzing-glass and stared for a few moments at Lady Beatrice. Then he turned to Hannah. ‘You wished to see me, Miss Pym?’

‘Yes, please, my lord. I am in the most dreadful difficulties. But pray be seated and have some tea.’

Lord Alistair sat down in an armchair and crossed his booted legs. His golden hair gleamed in the firelight, but his blue eyes were alert and watchful and Hannah knew that he did not like the presence of Lady Beatrice.

But she needed help and so she told the whole story of Benjamin’s deception. Lord Alistair carefully placed his cup on the table and leaned back in his chair and laughed and laughed.

‘It is no laughing matter,’ said Hannah distractedly. ‘What am I to do?’

Lord Alistair wiped his eyes and then grinned at Hannah. ‘I think your main worry is that the prince himself should get to hear of it and send someone over from the Pavilion to read you a lecture. I shall call on Prinny and hope your story amuses him as much as it has amused me.’

‘I wanted Lady Beatrice to go around telling everyone that it is all untrue, but she said she would not be believed.’

‘But I will be,’ said Lord Alistair, ‘for everyone knows I am a confidant of the prince. Your worries will soon be over, Miss Pym. By tomorrow, there will be no one at your gate.’

‘Thank you, my lord,’ said Hannah, and then turned red.

‘There is something else?’

‘It all started with that gown. It will need to be taken back. I do not have a ball gown.’

‘That is no problem,’ said Lady Beatrice. ‘We are of the same size in height and both slim. I will send my
maid round with something suitable which she can alter to fit you.’

Lord Alistair gazed at Lady Beatrice in surprise. ‘You amaze me, madam,’ he said. ‘I thought you cared for neither man, woman, or beast.’

‘You do not know me,’ retorted Lady Beatrice haughtily.

‘Evidently not.’ Lord Alistair rose to his feet. ‘Miss Pym, the ball is on Wednesday. I shall call for you at eight.’ He bowed and left.

The Prince of Wales was studying plans that would turn his Marine Pavilion into an oriental palace. When he was told that Lord Alistair Munro was demanding an audience, he rolled up the plans and gave his permission for that gentleman to be ushered into the royal presence.

Lord Alistair had managed to remain a friend of the touchy, sensitive prince by always being amiable, and always available to play cards, run races, gamble, or talk lighthearted nonsense.

He was always cautious to be as formal as possible. Other men, regarded as friends of the prince, had over-stepped the mark in the past by being too familiar and had fallen from royal favour.

‘We heard you were in Brighton,’ said the prince. ‘What news?’

He waved a plump beringed hand to indicate that Lord Alistair had his permission to sit down. Lord Alistair was not feeling so easy in his mind as he had led Hannah to believe. The prince, with luck,
would be amused. On the other hand, he might be furious.

‘I have some gossip that concerns yourself, sire.’

‘Indeed!’ The royal face crumpled in displeasure.

‘I trust it will amuse you.’ Instead of telling the prince simply about Hannah’s predicament in Brighton, Lord Alistair began at the beginning, describing the adventures of Miss Pym on the Exeter road, the Bath road, and the Portsmouth road, and the prince listened with delight. Even when he got to the real point of the story, Lord Alistair thought it politic to twist it slightly. He said the gossips had it that Miss Pym was not only a member of some foreign royal family, but besotted with the Prince of Wales.

The prince thought this was a famous joke. Lord Alistair had shrewdly guessed the touchy prince might not have found it so amusing if he had known that it was he who was said to be enamoured of Miss Pym.

‘So now,’ went on Lord Alistair, ‘our poor Miss Pym cannot even leave her dwelling because of the vulgar crowd at her gate. I shall put the truth about.’

‘Quite a character, this Miss Pym,’ remarked the prince, in high good humour. ‘Shall we see her?’

‘I am escorting her to Lord Southern’s ball. If it pleases Your Highness, I will point her out to you.’

‘By all means.’

They talked of other things and then Lord Alistair took his leave. He had been just in time. The gossip about Miss Pym was being poured into the royal ears by all his cronies that evening, who were startled
when the prince laughed and said he knew all about Miss Pym and was looking forward to meeting her at Lord Southern’s ball.

The gossip about Hannah’s true identity reached Monsieur Blanc the next morning, and shortly after that, Benjamin arrived, bearing the gown.

‘I’m surprised you got the cheek to show your bleeding face in ’ere,’ said the dressmaker.

‘And I’m surprised you’ve got the cheek to look me in the eye,’ said Benjamin, unruffled. ‘You opened that trap o’ yourn arter you swore not to. Did I mention you was nothing more but a common Englishman, wiff the emphasis on common? Nah. But I will now. So take this poxy dress and stuff—’

‘’Ere now!’ cried Monsieur Blanc, alarmed. ‘No need to be ’asty.’

Benjamin put the dress box down on a chair and made for the door.

‘Did I say I wanted it back?’ pleaded Monsieur Blanc. ‘Did I now?’

Benjamin turned round, one eyebrow raised.

‘Look, don’t go around saying as how I’m plain Mr White or you’ll ruin my trade. You can keep that there dress for the ball and bring it back next day. ’Ave we got a deal?’

Benjamin grinned. ‘It’s a deal.’

Mrs Cambridge’s friends clustered around her, all mock sympathy. ‘Poor Letitia. To be so misled by that charlatan. For Lord Alistair Munro knows
the creature. He is even taking her to Lord Southern’s ball! She is Miss Pym of nowhere in particular, or so I believe.’

Mrs Cambridge forced a light laugh. ‘I knew she was common the minute I set eyes on her. But, my dears, you must forgive me. I could not help having a little fun at your expense. Of course, the silly creature is getting quite above herself with all the attention. I shall take pleasure in cutting her at the ball.’ The friends, disappointed that they had not managed to tease her as they had hoped, vowed that they, too, would cut the dreadful Miss Pym, forgetting in their toadying to their social leader, Mrs Cambridge, that it is very hard to cut someone who does not know you from Adam.

4

Hannah found the very next day that the front of the house was free of sightseers. She went out for a walk, enjoying exploring the little dint-cobbled town with Benjamin behind her. They went for a long stroll along the chain pier, Hannah staring fascinated at the waves surging below. The sun was shining and brown-sailed boats were scudding before a brisk breeze.

‘Do you think, Benjamin,’ she called over her shoulder, ‘that I should try sea bathing?’

‘No, modom,’ said Benjamin. ‘I wouldn’t go in that nasty stuff, not if you paid me.’

‘But many ladies go sea bathing. And there is always an attendant. I should be in no danger of drowning.’

‘You wouldn’t get me in there,’ said Benjamin with a shudder. ‘Not ever.’

They had reached the end of the pier when Hannah saw Lady Beatrice approaching with her maid.

‘I called at your home,’ cried Lady Beatrice as she came up to her, ‘and saw that the crowd had gone. Lord Alistair appears to have been successful.’

‘Good for me,’ said Hannah, ‘but not for you. Has Sir Geoffrey found out yet that I am of no importance whatsoever?’

‘Not yet. He will no doubt call on me as soon as he does.’

‘When is this wedding to be, my lady?’

‘In a month’s time.’

‘So soon?’ Hannah was appalled.

‘I am afraid so.’

They walked together along the pier. Behind Hannah came the sound of Benjamin’s voice. He was obviously doing his best to impress Lady Beatrice’s lady’s maid. She hoped he was not regaling her with horrendous lies.

Lady Beatrice restrained an odd impulse to take Hannah’s arm. She wondered why she felt so safe, so at ease with this Miss Pym.

Hannah was reflecting that masters and mistresses would be amazed if they knew how very alike in character they could be to their servants.

There was the care of Fanny, Mrs Clarence’s lady’s
maid. Hannah vividly remembered her. She had been a haughty, elegant creature, often mistaken for her mistress when she went out shopping. She was generally disliked by the other servants. There was an air of coldness about her which repelled all overtures of friendship. So she was damned as ‘too hoity-toity’ and suffered the consequent punishment handed out to hoity-toity servants. The footmen put spiders in her bed and the chambermaids put dye in her washing-up water.

And then Mrs Clarence had run away and Fanny’s services were no longer required. Hannah had come across Fanny slowly packing her clothes, and had noticed that the lady’s maid’s fingers were trembling. Something had prompted Hannah to put a
comforting
arm about those rigid shoulders, and say, ‘
Whatever
ails you can be helped, if only you will ask for help.’ And Fanny had turned her face into Hannah’s flat bosom and wept bitterly. It had come out that she would need to return home until she found another post. Her father was a drunken, violent brute and her mother little better, and Fanny was terrified. Hannah had immediately remembered a Mrs Jessingham, a friend of the absent Mrs Clarence, who had been complaining that she could not find a suitable lady’s maid. So Hannah had taken Fanny to Mrs Jessingham and Mrs Jessingham had hired Fanny on the spot. Hannah had caught a glimpse of Fanny one day on one of her rare visits to London. Fanny looked grander and haughtier than ever. But then, Hannah thought, with a little sideways darting glance at Lady
Beatrice, perhaps, because of her parents, Fanny had built a brick wall around her to keep humanity at bay, and perhaps Lady Beatrice had done the same.

‘I have no plans for the day,’ said Lady Beatrice. ‘I have been ordered to cultivate your society. Would it bore you too much to endure my company?’

‘I would consider myself honoured,’ said Hannah. ‘But will it all not rebound on you when Sir Geoffrey finds out that I am Miss Pym of Nowhere?’

‘I shall say I did not know,’ said Lady Beatrice. ‘In this life, it is very important to live in the minute, do you not think? Would you like my maid to bring you one of my ball gowns so that it may be altered?’

Hannah told her that Monsieur Blanc had been unexpectedly generous and had said she might have the gown for the night of the ball. ‘I do not know how Benjamin managed it,’ said Hannah uneasily. ‘But he assured me he had told only the truth.’

‘He is an unusual fellow,’ commented Lady Beatrice. ‘How warm it is today. We must make the most of it, for the English weather is so fickle, it could be snowing tomorrow.’

‘I would like to go into the water.’ Hannah stopped short and looked down at the surging sea.

Lady Beatrice laughed. ‘Then why not?’

‘The usual problem. I have nothing to wear.’

‘Easily remedied. Marianne!’ Lady Beatrice called over her shoulder. ‘Run home and bring two flannel gowns and two caps and a quantity of towels and meet us by the bathing machines. I am sure Miss Pym will allow Benjamin to accompany you.’

Hannah was already rehearsing in her mind what she would say to Sir George Clarence when next they met. ‘I went sea bathing in Brighton with Lady Beatrice Marsham.’

‘I do not suppose Princess Caroline will be at the ball,’ Hannah realized Lady Beatrice was saying. ‘In Brighton, Mrs Fitzherbert is the wife, and you would think, to hear the gossips talk, that our prince had never even married Caroline of Brunswick.’ She gave a bitter little laugh. ‘At least I have something in common with Prinny; he loathes his wife and I loathed my husband and am well on my way to loathing another. The common people do not have to endure such miseries.’

‘Oh, yes, they do,’ said Hannah tartly. ‘The baker’s son may fall in love with a farm labourer’s daughter, but he is not allowed to marry her, for she is far beneath him and he will be expected to marry a girl with a good-enough dowry so that his parents may expand their bakery, and so it goes on. It is money that makes the world go round. Romance is a rare luxury.’ And having said that, Hannah thought of Sir George Clarence, so far above
her
, and felt quite dismal. Even if he were ruined and lost all his money and friends and ended up living in a hovel, there was the tremendous barrier of birth. ‘But Mrs Fitzherbert is still the favourite,’ she said, wrenching her thoughts back to the present. ‘And surely that is love, for he did marry her, although the marriage is not recognized.’

‘He has been philandering with Lady Jersey for some time,’ said Lady Beatrice. ‘When Princess
Caroline arrived on these shores for her wedding, the prince even sent Lady Jersey to meet her. But he keeps the connection with Mrs Fitzherbert.’

Hannah felt uncomfortable. She revered the prince and thought Lady Beatrice’s conversation bordered on sedition.

To change the subject, she asked, ‘Were you so very unhappy with your first husband?’

‘To begin with.’ Lady Beatrice gazed out to sea. ‘You see, I was so young and so innocent and I found myself married to a drunk, a libertine, and a gamester. He tried his best to degrade me and nigh succeeded. Let us talk of something else.’ Her face was cold and hard again.

‘We are nearly at the bathing machines,’ said Hannah nervously. ‘Will the water be very cold, do you think?’

‘Yes, very.’

‘Then perhaps …’

‘Courage, Miss Pym. It is a fine day and you must at least try. Here comes Marianne and your Benjamin.’

Soon Hannah found herself in a dark bathing machine with sand and seaweed on the floor. She undressed and put on the flannel gown and oilskin cap Lady Beatrice had lent her and then rapped on the door as a signal that she was ready. Then she sat down gingerly on the hard little bench at the back of the box as it began to roll forward, pulled by a strong farm horse.

When it stopped, Hannah stayed where she was,
cowering at the back of the box. The door of the bathing machine opened.

‘Come along, madame,’ said the bathing attendant, a large, burly woman. Hannah walked out on to the small platform at the front of the box. The horse stood patiently, little waves lapping against its legs. The bathing attendant took Hannah under the arms. ‘Down you go,’ she ordered. ‘Nothing to fear. I’ll have you safe.’

Hannah cast a wild look around. Lady Beatrice was already in the sea. She waved to Hannah. ‘You will not drown,’ she shouted. ‘You can stand on the bottom. It is not deep here.’

Hannah allowed the attendant to lower her into the water. She gasped with shock as the icy sea flowed around her body. Then she felt ground under her feet. ‘Are you all right?’ asked the attendant.

‘Yes,’ said Hannah faintly. ‘You may release me.’

The attendant removed her arms and Hannah stood still for a moment with her arms spread out to balance herself. Lady Beatrice moved towards her. ‘Give me your hands,’ she ordered. ‘And then jump up and down. You will feel yourself floating.’

Hannah obediently did as ordered, feeling
exhilarated
as a large wave swept her to one side. She experienced a tremendous sense of freedom. Hannah had never followed the extremes of fashion that meant going around without stays. Now that she was used to the chill of the water, all she could feel was a marvellous sense of liberation. She began to laugh and jump up and down and splash the water with her
hands. Lady Beatrice began to laugh as well and splashed water into Hannah’s face. Hannah splashed water back until they were frolicking and yelling and shouting like schoolchildren.

‘My lady is in trouble!’ cried Marianne from the stony beach.

‘She’s laughing, that’s all,’ said Benjamin, sitting on a rock and smoking a cheroot.

‘But my lady
never
laughs.’ The little maid ran up and down on the shore like a worried terrier.

‘Miss Pym makes life better for everyone,’ said Benjamin. ‘Look! They’re both going in. I told you they was all right.’

The little maid came back to join him, smoothing down her dress and assuming the air of hauteur she had copied from her mistress. ‘I must speak to my lady about her behaviour,’ said Marianne,
maintaining
that fiction beloved of lady’s maids the world over that they were able to remonstrate with their mistresses. ‘An excess of emotion is vulgar.’

‘That statue you works for,’ said Benjamin
laconically
, ‘could do with a bit of life.’

‘I do not understand her behaviour,’ mourned Marianne. ‘She would not even let me assist her to undress.’

Hannah and Lady Beatrice at last joined them. Hannah’s face was glowing. Her clothes were sticking to her salty body, and some sand had worked its way into one of her stockings, but she felt like Sir Francis Drake and every bit as bold.

‘We had best return to our lodgings,’ said Lady
Beatrice, ‘and have warm baths. Salt water is so sticky.’

‘I shall go tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow,’ said Hannah dreamily, ‘until I am able to swim like a fish.’

‘Is that not your friend Lord Alistair?’ asked Lady Beatrice. They had reached the promenade. Lady Beatrice pointed with her walking-cane.

Hannah looked and then stared. Lord Alistair Munro, as naked as the day he was born, was strolling nonchalantly towards the sea with a party of friends, all equally naked. He had a beautiful figure, tall and strong and athletic with broad shoulders, slim hips, and a trim waist.

‘Come along, Miss Pym,’ murmured Lady Beatrice, amused. ‘We are not supposed to stand and stare, you know. When the gentlemen are in their buffs, we are not meant to know they even exist.’

‘He is a very fine gentleman, a very
kind
gentleman
,’ said Hannah, averting her eyes and walking along beside Lady Beatrice.

Lady Beatrice did not reply. ‘I mean,’ pursued Hannah, ‘it is very reassuring to know that there are kind and noble men in the world.’

‘I do not believe in the existence of kind and noble men,’ said Lady Beatrice, suddenly and savagely. ‘They affect to be in love, but all have gross appetites. I am convinced that when Lord Alistair is not being charming to you, Miss Pym, he is off over the countryside, roistering with his friends, and seducing innocent girls.’

‘You make all men in general and Lord Alistair in particular sound like villains in Haymarket plays,’ commented Hannah.

‘And fiction is based on fact.’

‘Indeed! What then of the noble heroes?’

‘Miss Pym, let us talk of something else or I shall become cross with you. Ah, here we are at your residence. May I call on you in, say, about an hour’s time?’

‘Gladly,’ replied Hannah, suddenly wishing that Lord Alistair could see Lady Beatrice in that moment, as she stood at the gate, the stiff breeze tugging at her muslin skirts, one hand holding her bonnet, her cheeks pink and her large eyes sparkling.

Hannah went indoors to instruct Benjamin on his duties, the first of which was filling a bath. And Hannah took her first bath naked. Like most ladies, she usually wore a shift so that the sight of her own body should not bring a blush to her cheeks. But now it seemed perfectly natural to lie in the water stark naked and not feel ashamed. Sea bathing, mused Hannah dreamily, was almost
pagan
. It changed one’s mind about all sorts of things. She wondered if she could find the courage to go about without stays.