Lady Susan Plays the Game (38 page)

Once Manwaring was out of the house, Lady Susan took a chair, arriving at the appointment just after her friend.

‘You have, I see, been with Manwaring.'

‘Do I reveal so much?'

‘You do to me,' said Alicia Johnson smiling.

‘Hmm. Mr Fortuny once said something similar.'

They glanced cursorily at a few prints, bought nothing, and left in Alicia Johnson's carriage. Soon they were seated in Lady Susan's drawing room and Barton was bringing in the tea things. They resumed their talk.

‘You shouldn't let this passion interfere with your real interest,' said Alicia Johnson. ‘You cannot in the end rely on Manwaring, you know.'

‘I do know, dear Alicia. Of course it won't do. You are however thinking of Reginald de Courcy; you believe I should have him. And, to tell truth, I think it sometimes myself. But,' she paused, ‘at the moment there is money – perhaps some mistake has been made – it's unclear. I know, I know,' she said as her friend tried to interrupt, ‘I need something more definite to rely on. Reginald comes to town and he believes it's for marriage. And yet' – she leaned back in her chair and swung her foot, gazing at her dainty pearled shoe as she did so, ‘I cannot truly imagine it for myself. I must procrastinate, long beyond the date of my mourning. I must persuade him to spend more time in Parklands.'

‘I'm glad,' cried Alicia Johnson, ignoring the last remarks, ‘glad indeed that you've come to this conclusion. It's the best thing for you. You will grace a fortune.'

‘I've no doubt of it,' replied Lady Susan. ‘If I could be sure the old man would die in the next months, the matter would wear a different complexion. But one really can't count on it. He could go on and on. Imagine me having to pay court to Sir Reginald.'

‘And Manwaring?'

‘Well, yes,' said Lady Susan, ‘dear Manwaring remains in the dark. At the moment there's no danger. I've told him Reginald is brother to my sister-in-law, so must be received if he comes to town – which I hope he won't. Manwaring claims to believe this despite his earlier suspicions. But he has a jealous eye.' She paused, letting her face grow serious for just a moment. ‘Well, enough of men. Let me tell you, Alicia, how much I like these lodgings. Aren't they pretty? The paper is exactly to my taste. You know me so well.'

Although Lady Susan wanted now to rest before the evening, once Alicia Johnson had left she knew she must write at once to Reginald and answer the impatient note she'd recently received. He really would be too inconvenient in London.

It was easy enough to appeal to propriety and widowhood, to stress the need for him to soften, soothe and persuade his disapproving parents as well as bring round dear Mr and Mrs Vernon at least to acceptance of the match. Lady Susan would hate to incur the displeasure of any of them. And of course Reginald himself must have time to be sure of so important a step. So, she ended, they must not meet for a while – in fact for several months. In this way all the relations would have time to get used to the idea and they would see that Reginald was constant through a long separation. Such a time apart would be agony to her but they would reap the social benefits later. The Manwarings were in town, she continued, and, as he knew, Mrs Manwaring was her particular friend. So she would be seeing something of her – that, she hoped, might explain the occasional indiscreet use of the Manwaring coach near her lodgings, which would certainly have been noticed: ‘I myself must be out of town for a short while,' she concluded. ‘My husband's estate demands my attention. It will be a pleasure to me to see my old home again.'

She sent off her letter. Without quite knowing why, she'd been reluctant to discuss with her closest friend Alicia the Norfolk trip which had been crystallising in her mind ever since her unsatisfactory visit to Reeve & Reeve. She had finally decided on it during her ride to Ackerman's.

There was obscurity somewhere. Burnett had been so sure no money was left in the estate; otherwise he would not have dared to speak to her as he had in the study at
Someyton. Yet now he was transmitting funds to Reeve & Reeve while neglecting to reply to her queries. It couldn't be – it couldn't be, surely – his own money.

Lady Susan knew her power over men. She was aware of her beauty and her charm, her way with words. But she'd never used this charm on lawyer Burnett. Indeed she'd been impatient with him, especially when he got above himself. It was hard to imagine him so suffused by love that he would squander the fortune he'd so carefully acquired. Yet what other explanation was there? She even wondered if he'd paid off the moneylender Jacob King. But, no, he'd said that those debts – and they were large – had been covered by the estate – or at least she thought that's what he'd implied. At the moment she was not quite certain of anything.

She would go to Wymondham to see him in person. She would avoid Someyton and the unpaid servants who might still be in the district.

Two days later Lady Susan and her maid were on the road to Norfolk in a hired post-chaise. She was sorry to be missing a theatre party and rout ball at Lady Clementina's but her business was pressing.

They stopped for the night in Bury. She had no inclination to revisit her old school building, now, according to Alicia occupied by three French émigré families who must have spirited out money under the very noses of the revolutionaries. Next day they travelled straight on to Wymondham as soon as it was light.

The lawyer's house was what she'd expected, a smart showy place just on the edge of town. Pretending to be a gentleman's residence, it yet had no land to speak of. It had shiny black railings and a sweep created for effect at the expense of the front garden. Burnett had presumably amassed his money from fleecing clients, among them poor Frederick, who had trusted him. But then, her husband had trusted everyone. She wondered how much exactly the lawyer had made out of the Vernon estate over the years. Could she have inspired a passion in this dreadful little man, one that he expressed in the only way he knew how: by money?

There was a bustle as the coach approached the door and a parlourmaid, all dressed in bibs and flounces, opened it before Lady Susan could order the coachman to rap the polished handle. ‘Wait for me here,' she told Barton. ‘I shan't be long.'

She was ushered into a mirrored hallway where she met a thin woman she assumed to be the lawyer's wife, all smiles and curtseys. Then her husband appeared from his study. He looked startled, almost wary. Lady Susan stared into his face. It was as shifty as ever – it was not the face of a lover. The idea had been foolish.

‘Mr Burnett, I should like if I may to have a private conversation with you.'

‘Of course, your ladyship. Will you take tea with me in my study, or perhaps some other sort of refreshment?'

‘Yes, yes,' added his wife quickly, ‘please do command us.'

Lady Susan waved her aside and followed Burnett into his study. It was less ordered than she'd expected, papers in some disarray. Hadn't the man a clerk to tidy up after him?

‘Do please sit down, your ladyship.' He pointed to a dark red chair from which he had hastily removed a pile of documents.

She perched on the end of it, not quite wanting to lean back into what she suspected would be soft plush. ‘I will speak at once concerning my business.'

He inclined his head.

‘The money that Reeve & Reeve have received for my benefit. The bills of exchange. I believe that they ultimately derive from you. Am I correct?'

Burnett looked surprised. ‘I took it that your ladyship had organised the transaction. I am amazed. The bills for Reeve & Reeve, I mean.'

Irritated at being caught unawares, she spoke brusquely. ‘Of course, the bills of Reeve & Reeve. On whom are they drawn, if not on you?'

‘On me, your ladyship?' said Burnett with unfeigned surprise. ‘I surely, much as I would …' He faltered and stopped.

‘No, of course, I did not mean to suggest anything of that sort,' she waved her hand with a gesture Burnett later described as regal when he recounted the conversation to his wife. ‘I ask again: on whom are they drawn? You had told me the estate was diminished, indeed more or less bankrupt.'

Burnett looked at her levelly for a moment, then lowered his eyes. ‘Why, Mr King of course.'

‘Mr King? Mr Jacob King?' She was glad that she was sitting down and now she even dared to lean against the back, which did indeed sink softly with her weight.

‘Mr King,' she said again. ‘But I am indebted to him. Surely you must be wrong.'

Burnett had regained his composure. He felt subtly bullied every time he dealt with this woman; he would not put up with it.

‘I doubt that I can be wrong in a matter such as this,' he said. ‘I had assumed that your ladyship had made arrangements with this gentleman and that his generosity was a private transaction between you, with myself simply as humble go-between, who for reasons of your own you wished to employ. As we both know, you have dealt with Mr King before, as had the late Mr Vernon.'

Lady Susan flushed slightly. ‘What can you mean? What are you implying?'

Burnett wore a pleased expression on his face. Lady Susan was conscious that he was enjoying her discomfiture. ‘I imply nothing, Lady Susan. It is not my place. I merely mention to you that Mr King, the moneylender, is the source of the drafts which you have honoured me by inquiring about, and that the gentleman has been known to you and your late husband for some time.' He bowed in a courtly manner that Lady Susan found contemptuous.

It was impossible to bear. Lady Susan rose to leave.

‘Thank you, Mr Burnett. I shall trouble you no further. I will go to see Mr King at once and get to the bottom of the matter. You will please remind me of his direction.'

‘Gladly, your ladyship. The house is close to the cathedral, the second on the raised pavement. It is best to approach the area from the river past The Maids Head.'

Lady Susan gave no more thanks but, with a slight inclination of her head, swept out of the room.

In the hallway Mrs Burnett was still hovering, along with her eldest daughter, hoping to offer the great lady refreshment in the best parlour. But, before Mrs Burnett could finish her sentence of invitation, Lady Susan was out of the house, down the steps and inside the carriage.

‘Vile man,' she exclaimed to Barton as they set off down the road towards Norwich.

While they travelled she looked out at the flat landscape. It reminded her how much she had loathed Norfolk and especially Someyton with its dank hedgerows and ditches. Soon they were in the town centre rolling over cobbles, which seemed even more uneven than she'd remembered them. They passed over the Wensum River, then stopped just outside a row of large dwellings with a fine view of the cathedral. One of them must be Jacob King's house.

‘I understand I have to thank you for the bills I assumed derived from my husband's estate,' said Lady Susan.

Jacob King smiled assent. He was a small man, about the height of Mr Reeve, but much thinner. He was impeccably and rather expensively dressed in sombre colours. Lady Susan noticed his long, white, bony fingers protruding through the linen at his wrist. She determined to hide the slight fear that, very unusually, gripped her. She was alarmed to see in the flesh – and bones – this man to whom she had so airily written her demands over the past years and to whom, by some strange machination, she must now again be hugely indebted. She had not asked for the money and yet, although she never believed that a man had especial right to his wealth if someone cleverer could part him from it, she sensed that she herself had only the most tenuous claim to what she was now using.

‘Your husband's estate could not, I think, have yielded quite as much as your ladyship has required.'

They were standing in the drawing room on the first floor, a handsome old-fashioned room with dark landscape pictures on the walls. Clearly usury was richly rewarded, even more than the law. Mr King moved towards Lady Susan and gestured with his arm.

‘Please be seated. I will have the servant bring coffee or tea – or chocolate, if you prefer.'

‘Thank you,' replied Lady Susan, ‘that won't be necessary. I have come for information, that's all.'

Jacob King looked at her. ‘You would deny me the pleasure of entertaining you in my house? I am sorry. I have imagined it many times during the years of our association.'

His words startled her. But she was embarrassed to think she'd ever suspected Burnett of amorous feelings and had resolved to rein in any further suspicions. ‘I wish to know, Mr King, why you have advanced me money, especially since you seem so well acquainted with my circumstances.'

He smiled. ‘A man might advance money to a lady for many purposes,' he said slowly. ‘Mr Vernon was a generous husband.' He stopped again and she was about to speak when he continued, ‘As a husband, of course, must be. He acted also as a man aware of your ladyship's charms.'

She swallowed and gave a slight smile back. Was this it? Was this small thin moneylender from heaven knows where in love with her? How could he be? They had not met before.

‘But,' she said after a pause, ‘it would be improper in a man not related to act so.'

He stopped smiling. ‘That might be, your ladyship, and perhaps it would be quite improper for a lady to receive such largesse.'

Lady Susan bit her lip. ‘But I have told you that I did not and do not know the source.'

‘Yet my lady, that is strange for I have for many years been your source. You have, I think, been quite satisfied with my services.'

‘My husband, sir, was the source. You merely helped and were amply paid for your part.'

Jacob King stretched his hands, then cracked the knuckles on the pale fingers. ‘I think that Mr Vernon might have expressed it a little differently. But let that pass. As I say, your charms, Lady Susan, might work on a man so that he came to refuse you nothing. Isn't this true of the late Mr Vernon?'