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  ‘But, Freddy, does she know the truth?’ demanded Meg. ‘That he is not what we have believed him to be? That he is—’

  ‘Oh, indeed, ma’am, I know everything!’ Olivia assured her. ‘Oh, pray do not say I must not go to my Camille!’

  ‘But—’

  ‘Here, Meg, must have a word with you!’ interrupted Freddy, gripping her arm, and propelling her towards the door. Outside the room, he released her, but said in a tone of strong censure: ‘If it ain’t just like you to be trying to throw a rub in the path, the very moment we are in a way to going on like winking! You hold your tongue, now, or you’ll plunge us all back into disorder!’

  ‘Yes, but, Freddy, I have been thinking, and—’

  ‘Well, I wish you won’t, because I never knew any good to come of it when you started thinking. Very likely to find ourselves in queer stirrups if we was to listen to you.’

  ‘I declare you are the most odious creature alive!’ said Meg indignantly. ‘Pray, have you considered what a situation I shall be in when that horrid woman discovers that I helped her daughter to elope?’

  ‘Won’t discover it. Mean to warn her not to mention the matter. When Skelton tells her the girl ain’t been here—which reminds me: must remember to slip a couple of Yellow Boys into his hand!—well, when he tells her that, she’s bound to think of d’Evron. Won’t find him at his lodging. Paid his shot—at least, I hope he will—and gone! Plain as a pikestaff! Now, you be a good girl, Meg, and don’t, for the lord’s sake, try to think! Something more important to be done. Can’t let Miss Broughty go off without her nightgown! Must give her what she’ll need till she gets to Paris.’

  ‘What, are you expecting me to give the wretched girl my own clothes?’ demanded Meg.

  ‘Won’t miss a nightgown, dash it! Better give her a shawl too.’

  ‘If I do, will you promise never to tell Mama I had the least knowledge of this shocking business?’

  ‘Promise anything!’ said Freddy recklessly.

  ‘Oh, very well, then!’ Meg said, and went back into the drawing-room to invite Olivia to go upstairs with her to her bedchamber.

  Some little time later, Freddy handed Miss Broughty into a hackney-coach, directed the coachman to drive to the Golden Cross, and took his seat beside his charge. At their feet reposed a modest valise, and over one arm Miss Broughty carried a folded shawl. Her cheeks were delicately flushed, her eyes were softly sparkling, and she appeared to be floating in some pleasurable dream. She was recalled by Freddy’s voice, addressing her, and turned towards him with a start. ‘Oh, I beg your pardon! I was not attending!’

  ‘Just wanted to be sure all was right,’ said Freddy. ‘M’sister give you everything you should have?’

  ‘Oh, yes, she was so very kind, and she packed the bag with her own hands! I was quite overcome!’

  ‘Did it herself, did she? Then I’ll lay a monkey she forgot something!’

  ‘No, I am sure she did not! Only fancy! She would have me take such a pretty dress, to wear when I reach Paris, because she says this one I have on will be sadly crushed by the journey!’

  A gleam of hope shone in Mr Standen’s eye. ‘The lilac one?’ he asked.

  ‘No, it is not lilac, but green, and of the finest cambric!’

  He sighed. ‘Thought she wouldn’t part with the lilac one,’ he said mournfully. He passed under rapid mental review such articles as he supposed must be necessary to a female setting forth on a long journey, and suddenly said: ‘Hairbrush and comb. Toothbrush.’

  Miss Broughty turned a stricken gaze upon him. ‘Oh, dear! I don’t think—Whatever shall I do?’

  ‘Stop and purchase ’em,’ replied Freddy, with decision. ‘Good thing you told me m’sister packed the bag. Where do you commonly buy such things?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ faltered Olivia. ‘I have not had occasion to buy them since I came to town. Oh, I am sure they can be had at Newton’s, in Leicester Square, only I—I have only a shilling or two in my purse, and I dare not go into Newton’s in case Mama might be there!’

  ‘Get ’em for you,’ said Freddy, putting his head out of the window to shout the new direction to the coachman.

  ‘Oh, Mr Standen, you are so very—! No, no, you must not!’

  ‘Yes, I must,’ said Freddy. ‘Can’t go off to France without a toothbrush. Wedding-present!’

  Olivia saw nothing incongruous in this, but thanked him earnestly. While he braved the dangers of Newton’s Emporium, she remained cowering in her corner of the coach, dreading every instant that her mother’s face would appear at the window. But no such terrible sight assailed her eyes; and in a short space of time Mr Standen rejoined her, placing on her lap a neat parcel; and the hack rumbled on towards Charing Cross.

  Here, in the yard of the Golden Cross, pacing up and down, his watch in his hand, and on his face an expression of anxiety, they found the Chevalier. When he saw Olivia peeping from the window of the coach, he thrust his watch back into his pocket, and sprang forward to wrench open the door, exclaiming: ‘Mon ange, ma bien-aimée!’

  ‘My Camille!’ squeaked Olivia, almost falling out of the coach into his arms.

  They embraced passionately. Mr Standen, descending more soberly from the aged vehicle, observed these transports with fastidious pain, and felt that some explanation was due to the interested coachman. ‘French!’ he said briefly. ‘Don’t you drive off! I shall be needing you. Er—no wish to meddle, d’Evron, but daresay you may not have noticed: couple of waiters looking at you over the blind! That your chaise? Get into it, if I were you!’

  ‘Ah, my friend!’ said the Chevalier, turning to him. ‘What can I say to you? How can I repay you?’

  ‘No need to say anything at all,’ replied Freddy firmly. ‘Pressed for time! Easily repay me! Very much obliged to you if you won’t visit London again!’

  The Chevalier burst out laughing. ‘Ah, have no fear! Present, if you please, my compliments to my cousin—my regretful farewells!’

  ‘Oh, yes, Mr Standen! Pray, will you explain to dear Miss Charing how it was, and tell her that I shall never, never forget her kindness?’ said Olivia. ‘And, oh, Mr Standen, I am so very grateful to you for all—’

  ‘Yes, yes!’ said Freddy, shepherding them to where a post-chaise stood waiting. ‘Beg you won’t give it a thought! Pleasure!’

  He then handed her up into the chaise, shook hands with the Chevalier, and waved goodbye as the horses began to move forward. After that, he turned back to the hackney. ‘Doctors’ Commons!’ he commanded. ‘And don’t dawdle!’

  Nineteen

  It was not a very long distance from London to the Reverend Hugh Rattray’s parish of Garsfield, but the time spent on the road was more than enough to reduce Lord Dolphinton’s nerves to ribbons, and to place a great strain upon Miss Charing’s patience. Not all her representations served to convince him that his mother was not hard on his heels; and when a broken trace necessitated a wait of several minutes it really seemed as though any further check would wholly overset his slender reason. As for pausing to partake of refreshment, when the horses were changed, he would not hear of it. Neither Finglass nor the coachman showed any surprise at his twittering impatience, so Kitty could only suppose that such moods were not uncommon in him. She herself had not been prepared to find him so much tortured by apprehension, but after travelling only five miles in his company she could readily understand why Miss Plymstock had so unhesitatingly stated that a journey all the way to Gretna Green would not have done for him.

  Miss Plymstock, to Kitty’s abiding admiration, maintained throughout her air of stolid calm, talking to his lordship in a matter-of-fact way which seemed to soothe him, and never for an instant betraying a hint of exasperation. Indeed, Kitty was tempted to believe that she felt none, and was quite ashamed of herself for wishing on several occasions to speak sharply to him.