The Darcy Cousins (30 page)

They moved to the next room. Here they stared at the Indian idols which were set up in various corners of the room and the Hindu and Goorkha swords. Hatty, Clarissa's maid, let out a 273

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scream when the figure of an English soldier being attacked by a tiger came to life. The tiger roared, and the soldier, who was on the ground, cried out in distress and flailed about.

"Oh, look, Miss, at those monstrous claws on the beast!" she exclaimed.

The guide explained to her--in a contemptuous, condescending tone--that the effect was produced by turning a handle. She amused herself for the next few minutes with turning the handle and reproducing the movements and the sounds.

Meanwhile, Clarissa wandered off to admire some of the coins and other treasures scattered about the room. Mr Parvis, observing Clarissa's pleasure, took her arm and drew her ahead, leaving Georgiana to walk with his sister. Georgiana made a half-hearted effort to speak to Miss Parvis, but she quickly realised that beyond talk of hats and bonnets and dresses, Miss Parvis had little to say.

Georgiana was therefore at leisure to notice that however much Clarissa was absorbed by her view of the exhibits, Mr Parvis was not. He seemed more intent on finding excuses to come closer to her and to conceal them both from the others. Clarissa discovered a number of paintings portraying scenes in India, and she pored over them, with Mr Parvis pointing out scenes that were particularly noteworthy. Georgiana was uncomfortable with the situation, for they were alone with someone who was practically a stranger, and who was paying Clarissa marked attention. She was not unduly alarmed however. She expected either Mr Channing or Mr Parvis's father to appear any moment.

Meanwhile, the guide took her to the Babylonian exhibits and began to explain to her something of their history. She listened politely, for the history of ancient cultures had never appealed to her, in spite of the current vogue for antiquity, but she tried to 274

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remember as much as possible, feeling that she ought at least to educate herself. The next exhibit they moved to was charming. It was a garden, with figures of birds and animals made of gold, and trees with leaves of silver and a pond made from mother-of-pearl.

The guide once again launched into a long explanation.

It was some time later that Miss Parvis, plainly bored, complained that she for one would be happy never to view the collection again.

"Parvis always loves to bring everyone here, especially young ladies he admires, and what must I do but come along too. You cannot imagine how dreary I have come to find this room. But tell me, do you think this colour suits me? I believe lemon is quite the fashion this season."

Georgiana became aware that the quiet murmurs of Mr Parvis and Clarissa as they looked over the paintings had ceased and that they were no longer in the room.

"Let us catch up with them," she said to the guide, calling Hatty to her side.

They entered the next room in time to see Clarissa looking very flustered. Mr Parvis, clearly in a temper, called Miss Parvis to join him. Flashing a quick smile at the two young ladies, she hurried to catch up with her brother as he exited through a doorway.

Their guide cleared his throat.

"Perhaps you would care to continue the tour another time?"

he said.

Georgiana nodded. The guide held out his hand, clearly expecting payment. Georgiana had no idea how much to give him. She had not brought much money with her, not thinking she would need it. She dropped a sixpence in his hand.

"My dear young lady, it would hardly be worth my time to explain things in such detail for such a small amount."

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Clarissa dug in her reticule and tossed a half crown into his hand. "I trust this will be enough," she said. "Come, Georgiana!"

"That was much too generous," said Georgiana.

"It was the only coin I had," said Clarissa.

"We need to catch up with Mr Parvis immediately. He is quite capable of setting off and leaving us behind. Do you know he tried to slip his hand around my waist?"

Georgiana was not surprised. She had half expected something of the sort and was very angry with Channing for not coming.

She wished now she had instructed Hatty to stay close to Clarissa every minute.

"What did you do to make him so angry?"

"I slapped him," said Clarissa.

"Well, he deserved it," said Georgiana. "His behaviour has been very reprehensible."

"I'm glad you said so, for I was afraid from his reaction that English ladies never slap gentlemen. But how else could they put a stop to things if they have gone too far?"

"We had better hurry and catch up with him. You can explain the whole debacle later."

But when they reached the entrance, neither Mr Parvis nor his carriage were anywhere in sight.

"How could he have done this!" cried Georgiana. "Can he be so utterly reprehensible as to abandon us alone in the City, simply because you would not let him handle you?"

"Well, since he is nowhere in sight, I can only conclude that he is utterly reprehensible." Clarissa sighed. "We shall have to make our way home ourselves."

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The day, which had been bright when they left home, had changed completely. A light fog had descended upon the world, swathing the buildings around them. The street, which during business hours was teeming with merchants, prosperous Cits, and clerks going about their business, now looked almost empty. A forlorn-looking carriage cluttered by in the milky light. Leadenhall Street had seemed earlier a well maintained, momentous sort of street. But its usual inhabitants had migrated elsewhere, replaced by ethereal figures.

A shadow flitted in a doorway. Georgiana saw it only with the corner of her eye. But when she looked again, there was nothing.

She was allowing her imagination to run riot. She really ought not to read any of those Gothic romances Clarissa loved so much.

There was nothing at all sinister in a little bit of fog. London had its fogs. It was part of the weather, that was all.

A hackney cab rumbled by. They gestured for it to stop, but it was already taken.

They waited for a few minutes, but the business hours were over, and there was hardly any reason for the hackneys to come this way.

Again, she felt rather than saw that shadow. Not just one, several of them.

"Did you see that?" she said, peering through the veil of fog.

"I thought I saw something," said Clarissa, drawing her pelisse closer.

"I hope we find a hackney soon," said Georgiana. The awareness of being watched by invisible eyes unnerved her.

"We'd do better to go inside again, Miss," said Hatty. "We shouldn't stand here, at any rate. We're making targets of ourselves."

"You're quite right," said Clarissa. "We could ask that friendly guide to procure a carriage for us. We paid him enough, at any rate."

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Georgiana readily agreed. They hurried in quick steps towards the heavy shelter of the building.

"Not so fast, young ladies," said a voice. A murky figure emerged from the fog.

He reeked of gin. Georgiana stepped backwards, only to find her way blocked by one of the columns.

Around them, dark shadows broke the milky fog like a circle of statues.

"Such pretty dainty things," said one of the men, pulling Georgiana's reticule from her hand.

Georgiana tried to grip the reticule, but he wrenched it easily out of her grasp. He held it up above her head, out of her reach.

"Maybe if you give me a kiss I might give it back to you."

General laughter greeted this.

A hand reached out and grabbed Clarissa's reticule. It joined Georgiana's, suspended in the air.

"How about that cross there. Now ain't that pretty too?"

Hands rough as plaster slipped round her neck.

Georgiana stood as still as she could. He could take the pendant.

She would not resist. There were stories bandied around--stories of cutthroats who thought nothing of killing you for a coin, let alone a gold cross.

She did not look at her cousin. She just hoped Clarissa would not decide on any sudden heroics. Hatty too. They were searching her for valuables.

They could just as easily take the pendant, then kill her.

She refused to think about it.

A carriage careened through the street and headed straight for them. The horse stopped just in time right in front of them. A door swung open and a gentleman jumped out.

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"Leave the ladies alone!" The familiar voice held an unmistakable threat. An officer's voice, accustomed to obedience.

He could have saved his breath. The shadows had dissolved into milky opaqueness as soon as the carriage approached, taking their booty with them.

Georgiana stood in the fog, looking up at Gatley, who was pointing a musket at them.

"You can put that down now," said Georgiana in a colourless voice deprived of all emotion.

Gatley's mouth was tight--a white line in an ashen face. Or was it the fog? Georgiana could not be sure.

"Good afternoon," he said icily. "I hope you have not suffered any loss beyond the reticules?"

"No," replied Georgiana. She returned to animation again, as if coming out of a trance.

His face was so familiar, so handsome in that moment she could have thrown her arms around him. "You appeared at just the right moment. Oh, I don't know how to thank you!" Her hand trembled as she held it out to him. He took it briefly. "How fortunate for us that you had business here!"

"Fortune has had nothing to do with it," he said briefly.

Clarissa had not moved yet. She looked dazed, almost as if she was sleepwalking. Georgiana stepped back and took her cousin's arm.

"Help me," said Georgiana to Hatty, who also had a similar glazed look.

The command restored a sense of normalcy to Hatty, who took her mistress's other arm and put it around her shoulders. "You can lean on me if you want, Miss. We wouldn't want you fainting on us, now, would we?"

Together they helped Clarissa into the carriage.

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Gatley stepped aside as they went by, then followed them in and shut the door behind him.

"I knew about your plans for a visit. Channing told me.

But when my aunt came to visit us she told me he had received word of an important mill--a boxing match--and had gone in pursuit. I then realised that you had come here escorted only by Mr Parvis and his sister. I rode over immediately to ensure that all was well--I do not have too high an opinion of Mr Parvis."

He looked grimly out of the window. "Still, even I did not imagine he would be so lacking in conduct as to abandon you on the street."

"Then we are even more indebted to you," said Georgiana, "if it was not chance that brought you here."

He did not seem to have heard her. Certainly, he did not acknowledge her words. That white line around his lips was still there. It was not just from the fog.

He turned to Clarissa, who sat quite still in the corner.

"It is quite beyond belief that you could behave so irresponsibly," he said to her. "You are a stranger to our country. You do not know our customs. You should be guided by people who know better than you what is acceptable and what is not. You skirt the edge of propriety without wondering if you are putting others in danger as well as yourself. What would have occurred if I had not happened along? Have you considered that?"

Gatley's dark eyes were hard as agate. Georgiana waited for Clarissa to rebuff him, or to make a dismissive comment, or to laugh his anger away, but she seemed to have shrunk into herself.

She looked like a child, her eyes large and black, her face sallow.

She did not utter a word.

Her spirit twisted inside her to see Clarissa like this. Truth be 280

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told, she herself was still trembling. She did not know why she trembled. She did not know if it was from fear or from anger.

Gatley's words brought out the anger. She was used to kindness from him. His harshness now, when what she needed most was gentleness, kindled the spark that the trembling had kept under control.

The anger that flared was the anger that should have been directed at the ruffians who had cornered them. Now it found a direction. Gatley had no right to reprimand either her cousin or her in this manner.

And to think that she had greeted him as a saviour! She had been ready to think the world of him in that instant.

But now she could see that Channing--whatever his faults may be, and they were a multitude--had spoken the truth about his cousin. Gatley had assisted them, but for what purpose? Out of the kindness of his heart?

The answer was clearly no. Self-righteousness motivated him--to be able to lecture and moralize and browbeat them into accepting what he considered right. And he was taking full advantage of the fact that they had no choice but to ride with him to impress upon them that they were at fault.

It was not their fault that they had been accosted. When they had set out, it was with the confidence that they would be properly escorted. How could they possibly have imagined that they would be abandoned? How could they be faulted in that?

"And you, Miss Darcy," he said, turning those dark eyes like a hammer to nail her to the seat. "You have no excuse of not knowing where to go and where not to go in London. You, at least, were aware that the City is no place for well-bred ladies. Yet you are so easily persuaded, so easily under your cousin's thumb, that you will follow her to ruin rather than go against her will."

She had heard enough.

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"Stop the carriage instantly," she said. "Stop it now! For I will not endure another moment here with you. What right do you have to castigate us? What right to intimidate us? Do you think that because we were treated uncivilly by those men, you have the right to abandon all civility toward us? That because we were insulted by others, you may insult us yourself?"