The Audacious Adventuress

CHAPTER ONE ~ 1802The door opened and a gentleman slipped hastily into the room and locked the door behind him. As he turned, he saw that a woman rising from a table by the window was watching him with a white frightened face. “Don’t be alarmed,” he said to her reassuringly, “I am but taking refuge in here for a moment.” As he spoke, he saw to his surprise that the expression on her face, which had almost been one of terror, changed to one of relief. Then, as he walked towards her, he felt that there was something like recognition in the smile on her lips and the look in her eyes before she settled herself once again at the table and picked up her embroidery. A memory stirred in the back of the gentleman’s mind. “I seem to know you! Could we have met before?” It seemed impossible. The gentleman, tall, broad-shouldered and exceedingly handsome, was attired in the height of fashion, his blue satin evening coat fitted without a wrinkle, the points of his collar reached high against his square jaw and the elegance of his snowy cravat must have taken an infinity of patience to achieve. The woman he faced, or rather she was little more than a girl, was unassuming to the point of mediocrity. Her hair was dragged back from her forehead into a tightly plaited bun at the nape of her neck. Her gown, drab and out-dated, was of some cheap dark material and, when she had sprung to her feet at the unexpected appearance of a stranger, she had reached out for a pair of spectacles that lay beside her on the table. Now it appeared that she had no use for them. She replaced them before she picked up her needle and started to embroider skilfully and quickly on a gown of pale pink crêpe. “Why should I know you?” the gentleman asked musingly as she made no reply. She looked up at him again with a little mischievous twinkle in her eyes that were unexpectedly large in the light of the candles she was working by and seemed to be almost green. “Of course!” the gentleman exclaimed. “You are Druscilla! Good God! You are the last person I expected to find here.” “I am honoured that you recognise me, Cousin Valdo,” she replied demurely. The Marquis of Lynche pulled up a chair to the table and sat himself down on it. “Druscilla, by all that is Holy!” he said. “I have often wondered what became of you.” “Papa left Lynche Hall after your mother died,” Druscilla replied. “He quarrelled with the next Marchioness.” “Who did not?” the Marquis exclaimed. “But where did you go?” “To Ovington, as it happened, on His Grace’s estate,” Druscilla responded. “Until Papa also passed away.” “My condolences,” the Marquis said conventionally. “But why are you here?” “I am Governess to Her Grace’s small daughter.” “A Governess!” the Marquis declared. “Is there nothing better you can do?” She gave a little smile that had a touch of cynicism in it. “And what do you suggest,” she asked, “for a female orphan without money and without influence?” “The family would have helped you,” he interrupted. “Papa had cut himself off from all Mama’s relations,” she replied. “He always felt that they looked down on him and resented his having married into the Nobility. And so I have had no communication with my grand connections.” “That is nonsensical!” the Marquis expostulated. “Your father might choose to set himself aloof, but you are different, you are my cousin.” “The relationship is not close,” Druscilla retorted coldly. “My grandmother was your grandmother’s sister. We are second cousins if you like, but it is not a relationship of blood.” “But nevertheless, we are related,” the Marquis told her sternly. “Something must be done about your position.” “Your interference is not necessary,” Druscilla answered. “And please don’t tell anyone that I am here. For the moment everything is satisfactory.” “What do you mean ‘for the moment’?” the Marquis enquired. Druscilla hesitated and then she said in a low voice, “Things have not been very easy and it will not help if anyone should find you in the schoolroom. For goodness sake, Valdo, now you have seen me, go away and forget it.” “Why should I?” he asked her. “Besides, I have a reason for coming here.” “What is it?” Druscilla demanded sharply and he saw an echo of the fear that had been so apparent in her face when he had first entered the room. Then, as if in answer to her question, a sudden pandemonium broke out in the corridor. There were the strains of a hunting horn, masculine laughter and shouts of ‘Tally Ho!’ and ‘Gone Away!’, high-spirited female screams and the thunder of feet running past the door. The Marquis noted that Druscilla sat tense and still, only one small hand crept up to her breast as if to quell a turmoil within herself. Then the noise became deafening. Suddenly the handle of the door was turned violently and the door rattled as someone tried to force it open. A female voice shrieked, “It’s locked, he cannot be there!” Again the hunting horn blared out and the cries of ‘Gone Away!’ gradually faded as the crowd of merrymakers progressed down the corridor. “You see why I have gone to ground,” the Marquis smiled. “Are they chasing you?” Druscilla asked. “Two of us were chosen,” he replied, “both eligible bachelors. My God, Druscilla, I assure you that after this a fox has all my sympathy.” “Why did you agree to do it?” she enquired. “How could I refuse? Not without making a cake of myself, and I have learnt that in such circumstances, Druscilla, it is far better to agree what people want of one and then to do the opposite.” She gave a little laugh. “You always did get your own way, Valdo, with never a thought that other people might suffer in consequence.” “What do you mean by that?” he asked. “Only that last holiday at Lynche Hall when I was punished after you had gone back to Eton because it was my ball you had thrown through the greenhouse!” “Poor Druscilla,” he commiserated, “and I bet you never sneaked on me.” “No, I did not, as it happens, which was foolish of me. The heir of the house would have been forgiven for his crime, whatever it might be, while I was only the tomboy daughter of the local Vicar.” “What happened to you?” the Marquis wanted to know. “Oh, a good spanking and bread and water for supper, it was nothing new,” she answered lightly. “You must accept my apologies for my past sins.” “The only apology I would appreciate,” she replied, “is that you should leave this room. Go and go quickly.” “Why are you so anxious to be rid of me?” “Because someone might find you here. Can you imagine what will be said? Besides, Her Grace only engaged me on condition that – ” She stopped suddenly. “Will you not finish that sentence?” the Marquis prompted her. It seemed as though his question aroused her anger. “Very well, I will finish it,” she said, her eyes flashing. “Her Grace engaged me on condition that, I did not indulge in any philandering while I was under her roof.” “Philandering!” “If you think that I want to philander with a gentleman of your type, you are mistaken,” she insisted. “They have one use and one use only for a woman. Men are beasts – every one of them. The less I see of them the better for my peace of mind!” Druscilla’s lips closed in a hard line and, with something suspiciously like a sob, she picked up her discarded embroidery. “Go away, Valdo,” she said more quietly, “And forget you have seen me.” “Some man has hurt you,” he commented. “Who could have treated you in such a manner? Who?” She gave a laugh with no humour in it. “Not one man, my dear cousin, but the father, the son, the uncle and the distinguished friend they did not want to offend – the lot! Each one as bad as the other, all out for a bit of fun round the corner, knowing the wretched girl they insulted would not dare to complain and if anything was discovered, their word would be believed against hers.” “It sounds incredible,” the Marquis remarked. “You don’t believe me?” Druscilla went on. “Do you imagine it is pleasant to be hounded away from six different situations in three years? Six! And then to have to come crawling on my knees to be taken in here and to be engaged as a great condescension – an act of charity.” She stopped speaking and looked at him. “Now do you understand? Now will you go away and not ruin my last chance of living a decent life unmolested?” The Marquis rose to his feet. His face was troubled. “I will go, Druscilla, because you have asked it of me, but I shall not forget. I will speak to the family. You should not be allowed to suffer like this.” “Leave me alone,” she snapped. “I don’t want the charity of my relations any more than I want anyone else’s. They looked down their noses at Mama because she had married a Parson and they will not take any more kindly to me. Put me out of your mind, Valdo. You have not remembered my existence these last nine years and there is no reason why it should trouble you now.” “Nine years! Good Lord! Is it as long as that?” the Marquis exclaimed. “But it is not right, Druscilla, that you – ” The words died because there came a knock on the door. Druscilla jumped to her feet and he saw again that look of terror on her face. He put a finger to his lips and then tiptoed across the room, opening a door at the far end. He guessed it led into a bedroom and his assumption was right. By the light of the flickering night light he could see a child sleeping in a small narrow bed. By the side of it was another bed that obviously belonged to Druscilla. The Marquis pushed the door to behind him, leaving only a faint c***k through which he could see and hear what went on in the schoolroom. Druscilla moved slowly across the room to the door and, as she reached it, the knock came again. “Who is it?” she asked and he heard a faint tremor in her voice. “’Tis me, Miss Morley,” a woman’s voice replied. “Oh, Miss Deane!” He heard the relief in Druscilla’s tone as she turned the key in the lock and opened the door. Through the crack that he had left himself the Marquis could see a fat middle-aged woman in a mob-cap, obviously an elderly housemaid, carry a tray across the room and set it down on the table. “I’ve brought your supper, Miss Morley.” “How kind of you,” Druscilla exclaimed. “I took the tray from Ellen,” the housemaid explained. “The girl was half-dead on her feet so I sent her off to bed. I’m goin’ to have a sharp word with the kitchen tomorrow. They’ve no right to keep her hangin’ about there so long or to be so late with your meal.” “I expect they are busy,” Druscilla said, “and I am not really hungry.” “If you’re not, you ought to be,” Miss Deane said sharply. “You’ve been a-workin’ away at that gown all day. And it looks as though you’ve still got quite a lot to do.” “I should be finished in another three hours,” Druscilla said with a little sigh. “Her Grace wants to wear it tomorrow.” “To please her new beau, I’ll be bound,” Miss Deane said with a laugh. “Well, I can understand her wantin’ to do that. I’ve never set eyes on a finer lookin’ and more handsome-countenanced gentleman than the Marquis. It makes my old heart beat just to look at him. And his Lordship’s a vast improvement, I may say, on Her Grace’s last fancy.” “Indeed.” Druscilla’s voice was cold and the Marquis realised that she was embarrassed. The housemaid did not appear to notice and went on, “Yes, to be sure! Sir Andrew Blackett, now he was a real horror. I couldn’t let any of my young maids go near his bedchamber. I knew his type as soon as I sees him! And when young Gladys came to me a-cryin’ her eyes out, I felt like givin’ him a piece of my mind, I did really.” “I don’t blame you,” Druscilla murmured. “And, of course, it was due to him that poor Miss Lovelace got turned away without a reference.” “Is that why she went?” “It was indeed. Her Grace finds him in here, a-talkin’ to Miss Lovelace. Just before dinner it was. Of course he says that he came to say ‘goodnight’ to her little Ladyship, but Her Grace sees that Miss Lovelace is lookin’ flushed and pleased with the attention she’s a-havin’. So as soon as the party is over out she goes.” “It was not fair, was it?” Druscilla asked, a note of anger in her voice, “Mistresses don’t trouble themselves as to what is fair when you’re in service,” Miss Deane replied. “And if anything’s wrong, ’tis never the gentry that’s at fault. You can make up your mind about that! I can see that you are wise, Miss Morley, in that you locks your door. Well, you keep it locked day and night while there’s this sort of party’s goin’ on in the house.”