Hungry for Love

CHAPTER ONE 1817“Harry, how could you do anything so crazy?” “I know, Araminta, I have no excuse except that I was somewhat foxed!” “But at this moment – when we have not a penny to spare!” “I know, I know,” Sir Harry Sinclair agreed despairingly. He was an extremely handsome, well-built young man of twenty-one. Dressed in the height of fashion with the tight yellow pantaloons that were the mode amongst the bucks and dandies of St. James’s, with his cutaway coat which fitted without a wrinkle, the points of his collar high above his square chin, he was a figure to make any woman’s heart beat faster. But the look on the face of his sister, Araminta, was one of dismay, as she asked in a voice that was deliberately expressionless, “How – much did you – lose?” “Six hundred pounds!” Araminta gave a little shriek. Then, as if she fought for self-control, she walked to the window to stare out into the quiet Bloomsbury street. “I must have been mad, I see that now,” her brother said behind her, “but Wayne had been winning all the evening. He had had the luck of the Devil and by the law of averages he should have lost that particular hand.” There was no response from Araminta and after a moment he went on, “He always sits there looking so cursed superior, as if even to win was beneath his condescension. There is something about him that gets under my skin.” “Who are you talking about?” Araminta asked in a dull voice. “The Marquis of Wayne. I don’t suppose you have heard of him, but he is a leader of fashion. The dandies copy his cravats and the bucks try to emulate his feats as a Corinthian.” “You sound as if you dislike him.” “I hate him!” Harry replied passionately. “As I told you, Araminta, he gets under my skin. He walks into White’s as if he had bought the place and God knows there are a number of members who are more important than he is.” “I cannot imagine why that should upset you to the point of challenging him at cards!” “I know now it was a wild insane thing to do,” Harry admitted. “Wayne always wins! They laugh about it in the Club. But there was something in the way he looked at me when I sat down at the table.” “Explain what you – mean.” “Oh, I suppose I was just being nonsensical, but he made me feel as if I was a country bumpkin – a greenhorn – which undoubtedly I am!” Harry Sinclair gave a little gulp. “I wanted to assert myself and look at the mess it has landed me in!” “Not only you,” Araminta said quietly. Her brother threw himself down in a chair and put his hands up to his face. “Help me, Araminta. You have every right to be cross, but for Heaven’s sake, help me!” The appeal in his voice melted Araminta’s heart. She never could resist her handsome brother anyway. She ran across the room to kneel down beside his chair. “It’s all right, Harry,” she said soothingly as if he was a child. “We will see this through together. You know you have the family behind you.” “Mama – ” Harry said, taking his hand from his face. “Yes, I know,” Araminta replied, “but we will not tell her – at any rate not until we have to.” She paused before she asked, “How long have we in which to – find the – money?” Harry’s voice sounded almost strangled in his throat as he replied, “Two weeks.” “Oh, no!” Araminta cried. “It’s impossible! How can we find such a large sum in that time?” She sat back on her heels as she spoke and looked up at her brother and he gazed back at her. Their eyes met and they were both calculating! They were both acutely aware of their financial position. When their father, Sir Gilbert Sinclair, died from the wounds he had received at the Battle of Waterloo, they had found that his estate amounted to little more than debts. Their grandfather, the second Baronet, had been a wild gambler, who had dispersed the family fortunes and left his eldest son little but a dilapidated manor house and a few acres of land near Ampthill in Bedfordshire. Fortunately, Lady Sinclair had an allowance from her father. He had disapproved of the marriage and refused to settle any money on his daughter. “To prevent your husband being able to play ducks and drakes with my money,” he had said. “What you receive from me will be paid quarterly and I will not give you one penny more, even if you are starving in the gutter!” It was Lady Sinclair’s very small fortune that had enabled them to live frugally, but in comparative comfort, in Bedfordshire. It was a poor County and there were not a great number of expenses, not even for a man of rank. However, Sir Gilbert and his wife were so happy together that they were quite content with the unpretentious social life they could enjoy with their neighbours and did not miss the extravagance and luxury of London. But Harry was different. Harry was young and he found Bedfordshire excessively dull – which indeed it was – and the horses that his father rode too slow for his liking. He had come to London at the beginning of the year and set himself up in lodgings, which he had described to his family as being ‘well up to scratch’. He had also, through the sponsorship of the Duke of Bedford, been elected a member of White’s Club. This, Araminta now could not help thinking, was really his downfall. White’s was the most exclusive and the smartest club in London. It was not only the haunt of all the dashing young bucks and blades, but also of politicians, Statesmen and the Prince Regent himself. As Harry reported gleefully in his letters home, the Duke of Wellington had only been elected in 1812 – ‘so I am not,’ he added, ‘such a very young member, except of course in years’. Situated in St. James’s Street, White’s counted amongst its members the brilliant wits of the Beau Monde such as Lord Alvanley and, until he was obliged to leave England the previous year owing to his debts, the inimitable Beau Brummell. Charles James Fox, whose speeches in the House of Commons packed the Chamber quicker than any other orator, was a member, so was Sir Robert Peel who was introducing a Police Force to London and the sixth Earl of Shaftesbury, who harrowed Society with reports of the cruelty inflicted on climbing boys and the iniquities of Flash Houses. In fact in White’s one could find every type of character and personality that made London Society the most glittering and the most envied of all Europe. But it was also in White’s that the most compulsive gambling took place and where great fortunes were lost and gained night after night. Harry had been overwhelmingly grateful to the Duke of Bedford for introducing him to this gentleman’s paradise. But Araminta could not help thinking that perhaps it would have been wiser if her brother had been forced to wait until he had found his feet in London. “Six hundred pounds!” she said aloud. “Have you anything left of your allowance?” They had decided on their father’s death to divide the income which their mother received every quarter. Harry took one half and the other half was, with a great deal of scrimping and saving, enough for Lady Sinclair and her two daughters to live on. There had, however, this year been the problem of Araminta’s debut. It should in fact have taken place the previous year when she was just eighteen, but, as they were in deep mourning, it was impossible for them to consider entertainment of any sort. Araminta was now nearing nineteen. She had resigned herself to appearing only at the local Hunt Ball and a few other festivities in Bedfordshire. Then suddenly the Duchess of Bedford, who was friendly with Lady Sinclair, had told her that the Duke was prepared to offer them a furnished house for the Season so that Araminta could make her debut in London. This astounding news had taken them all by surprise, but there was no question of refusing such a generous offer. “The Duchess has even agreed, dearest, that she will introduce you to Almack’s,” Lady Sinclair said ecstatically, “and under the auspices of Her Grace’s patronage, we may be sure that all the fashionable hostesses will invite you to their balls.” For the first time in their lives Araminta and her younger sister Caro were leaving the quietness of Bedfordshire. Woburn Abbey was only a short distance from their home, but they had in fact seen very little of the Duke and Duchess of Bedford who lived mostly in London. “It is one thing to be given a house, Mama,” Araminta said, “but you know as well as I do that I cannot appear in London wearing the gowns I have made myself. I should be laughed at and undoubtedly labelled a ‘milkmaid’, or something equally rude.” “You may be surprised to hear it, but I have already thought of that!” Lady Sinclair said in her gentle voice. “Actually, although we have never told you so, your father and I have been saving for many years for your debut and later your marriage.” “Saving, Mama?” Araminta exclaimed in surprise. “It was very difficult because, as you know, we had so little,” Lady Sinclair said with a smile. “Sometimes we sold fruit from the garden and once your father had a good day at the races and we put aside half his winnings.” Her eyes misted for a moment when she spoke of her husband, but she went on bravely. “There were other opportunities too and we have collected enough not only for your gowns, Araminta, but also to do a small amount of entertaining in the house we have been loaned.” “I can hardly believe it, Mama,” Araminta cried in astonishment. “I am not as feather-witted as you and Harry seem to think!” Lady Sinclair replied with a touch of pride. It was true that while they loved their mother, the children found her at times somewhat scatter-brained. She found it difficult to remember engagements or to recall the names of neighbours and acquaintances unless she knew them very well. She was invariably late for meals because either she was immersed in painting one of the watercolours which had always delighted her husband, or she had started to pick flowers to make a pot-pourri just when she should have returned to the house. She was in many ways like a child who runs after every brilliant butterfly. But because her happiness was centred in her home, her children tried to protect her from anything that was ugly and disagreeable and always from financial difficulties. It was therefore amazing to Araminta that her mother should have not only thought ahead, but had also made a sustained effort over the years to save towards her debut. She was even more astonished when she found that the sum had reached the incredible figure of one hundred and fifty pounds! “Do you think it will be enough, dearest?” Lady Sinclair asked a little anxiously. “Of course, Mama! But I must not spend anything like the whole of it on myself. There is Caro to think of! She is already seventeen and perhaps next year the Duchess will remember that it will be her turn to go to London.” “You’re very sweet and unselfish, dearest,” Lady Sinclair answered fondly, “but I am hoping, Araminta, that perhaps while you are in London you will find a husband.” For a moment Araininta looked startled, then she said quietly, “Yes, of course, Mama. Then I should be able to help Caro. She will be very beautiful and she must have her chance.” “You are both outstandingly lovely,” Lady Sinclair said. “And your Papa and I always regretted that our home should be in Bedfordshire, because it is undoubtedly an extremely dull County.” But due to the kindness of the Duke, they found themselves installed in an attractive house in Russell Square, which he used to lend to his relatives when they desired to visit London. ‘I have exactly two months,’ Araminta thought when they arrived on the 8th April. Two months in which not only to enjoy herself but also to remember that every debutante hoped to receive an offer of marriage, if possible from a wealthy suitor! But now Araminta realised, only the second day after her arrival, that her plans were collapsing like a pack of cards. She had known as soon as Harry came down to breakfast that something was amiss.