The Foundling Read online

  ‘No, that he will not!’ declared Tom, revolted.

  ‘Why not?’ asked Belinda, opening her eyes at him.

  ‘He is not such a gudgeon as to be thinking of marrying, like a stupid girl!’ Tom said contemptuously.

  The Duke intervened rather hastily. ‘Now, Belinda, you know you don’t want to marry me!’ he said. ‘You want to marry Mr Mudgley!’

  ‘Yes, I do,’ agreed Belinda, her eyes filling. ‘But Uncle Swithin took me away from him, and Mr Ware did not marry me either, so what is to become of me?’

  ‘You will go with Lady Harriet, and be a good girl, while I try to find Mr Mudgley.’

  Belinda’s tears ceased to flow. She looked very much awed, and asked: ‘Is she a lady, sir?’

  ‘Of course she is a – Oh, I see! Yes, she is Lady Harriet Presteigne, and she will be very kind to you, and if you do as she bids you she will not let Mrs Pilling send you to prison. And what is more,’ he added, perceiving that she still seemed unconvinced, ‘she is going to fetch you in a very genteel carriage! In fact, a lozenge-carriage!’

  ‘What is that?’ asked Belinda.

  ‘The crest on the panel – a widow’s crest.’

  ‘I shall drive in a carriage with a crest on the panel?’ Belinda said, gazing at him incredulously.

  ‘Yes, indeed you will,’ he assured her.

  Tom gave a guffaw. ‘Stupid thing! He’s bamming you!’

  Her face fell. The Duke said: ‘No, I am not. Tom, if you cannot be quiet, go away!’

  ‘Well, I shall. I shall go out to see the sights. Oh, Mr Rufford, there are some famous shops here! The waiter told me! Would you be so very obliging as to lend me some money – only a very little! – and I swear I will not get into a scrape, or do the least thing you would not like!’

  The Duke opened his sadly depleted purse. ‘It must be no more than a guinea, Tom, for buy some cravats I must, and I am pretty well run off my legs.’

  ‘What a lark!’ exclaimed Tom. ‘Won’t you be able to pay our shot, sir? But Pa will do so, you know!’

  The Duke handed him a gold coin. ‘I trust it will not come to that. There! Be off, and pray do not purchase anything dreadful!’

  Tom promised readily not to do so, thanked him, and lost no time in sallying forth. The Duke then persuaded Belinda to pack her bandboxes, and went out to send his express to Mr Mamble. By the time he had accomplished this, and returned to the Pelican, Belinda had finished her task, and was indulging in a bout of tears. He strove to reassure her, but it transpired that she was not weeping over their approaching separation, but because she had been gazing out of the window, and Walcot Street, which she knew well, put her so forcibly in mind of Mr Mudgley that she now wished very much that she had never left Bath.

  ‘Well, never mind!’ said the Duke encouragingly. ‘You have come back, after all!’

  ‘Yes, but I am afraid that perhaps Mr Mudgley will be cross with me for having gone away with Uncle Swithin,’ said Belinda, her lip trembling.

  The Duke had for some time thought this more than possible, and could only hope that the injured swain would be melted by the sight of Belinda’s beauty. He did not say so to Belinda, naturally, but applied himself to the task of giving her thoughts a more cheerful direction. In this he was so successful that by the time Lady Ampleforth’s barouche set Harriet down at the inn, the tears were dried, and she was once more wreathed in smiles.

  Having seen the carriage from the window, the Duke left Belinda to put on her bonnet, and ran down to meet his betrothed. She was looking much prettier, he thought, than on the previous evening. There was quite a colour in her cheeks, and she was wearing a very becoming hat of chip-straw, trimmed with lace and rosebuds. She gave him her hand, encased in a glove of lavender kid, and said with a mischievous smile: ‘Grandmama was excessively diverted. She would have come with me, I do believe, if she could have done so. But she does not go out very much now, and never before noon. And I must tell you, Gilly, that I thought it best not to tell Charlie that you had come to Bath, for I am sure he would roast you dreadfully if he knew the whole! Then, too, although he is the dearest of brothers, he could never keep a secret, you know.’

  ‘You are very right!’ he said. ‘I had not thought of it, but I foresee that I must spend my time dodging any acquaintances whom I may see until Nettlebed makes me respectable again. Will you come upstairs? Belinda is waiting for you in the parlour. I must warn you that she is a little afraid of you, and fears you may be cross!’

  ‘Afraid of me?’ Harriet said, surprised. ‘Oh, I am sure no one ever was!’

  ‘I am sure she will not be when she has seen you,’ he returned, handing her up the stairs.

  He ushered her into the parlour, saying: ‘Here is Lady Harriet come to fetch you, Belinda!’

  The two ladies stood for a moment, staring at one another, Belinda in childlike curiosity, Harriet blinking as though she had been dazzled. She had expected to be confronted by a beauty, but she had formed no very definite picture of Belinda from the descriptions afforded her, and was unprepared for such a radiant vision. She knew a pang, for it seemed to her incredible that the Duke should not have fallen a victim to Belinda’s charms. She could not forbear stealing a wondering glance at him. She found that he was looking at her, and not at Belinda, an enquiring lift to his brows. She blushed, and stepped forward, saying in her soft voice: ‘How do you do? I am so glad I am to have the pleasure of your company for a while! I hope you will be comfortable with me.’

  ‘Oh, yes, thank you!’ said Belinda dutifully, curtsying. ‘But I do not like hemming handkerchiefs, if you please.’

  ‘No, indeed! It is the most tedious thing,’ agreed Harriet, her eyes twinkling.

  Belinda began to look more cheerful, but it was plain that she was not entirely reconciled to the prospect of staying in Laura Place, for she asked: ‘Shall you keep me for a very long time, ma’am?’

  ‘Oh, no, only until the Duke has found Mr Mudgley!’ said Harriet, guessing that this was the assurance most likely to be welcome.

  Belinda looked bewildered. ‘But I don’t know any Dukes!’ she objected. ‘I thought Mr Rufford would find Mr Mudgley for me. You said you would, sir!’

  ‘Oh, dear, I beg your pardon, Gilly!’ Harriet said, in a good deal of confusion. ‘I thought – I meant to say Mr Rufford, Belinda!’

  ‘But he is not a Duke!’ exclaimed Belinda, quite shocked.

  Looking quite as guilty as Harriet, Gilly said: ‘Well, yes, Belinda, as it chances I am a Duke! I had meant to have told you, but it went out of my head. It doesn’t signify, you know.’

  Belinda gazed at him, an expression in her face of mingled incredulity and disappointment. ‘Oh, no, I am sure it is a hum!’ she exclaimed. ‘You are teasing me, sir! As though I did not know a Duke would be a much grander person!’

  Harriet said in a stifled voice: ‘He – he is very grand when he wears his robes, I assure you!’

  ‘Well!’ Belinda said, quite disillusioned. ‘I thought a Duke would be very tall, and handsome, and stately! I was never so taken-in!’

  The Duke bowed his head in his hands. ‘Oh, Belinda, Belinda!’ he said. ‘Indeed, I am very sorry: I only wish I may not have destroyed your faith in Dukes!’

  ‘But do you wear a coronet, and a purple robe?’ asked Belinda.

  ‘No, no, only one of scarlet cloth!’

  ‘Cloth! The shabbiest thing!’ she cried. ‘I thought you would have worn a velvet one!’

  ‘Ah, but it was lined with white taffeta and doubled with four guards of ermine!’ he said gravely.

  ‘Gilly, don’t be so provoking to the poor child!’ said Harriet, controlling a quivering lip. ‘You know that was only your parliamentary dress! I am sure you have a crimson velvet mantle for state occasions, for I know Papa does. Don’t loo