The Foundling Read online

  ‘Yes, sir. I – we – hope to establish her creditably,’ said the Duke.

  Lord Lionel nodded, ready to dismiss the matter. ‘That’s right. You can afford to be generous, but do not run to extremes! If you do not like to set about the business yourself, I will do it for you.’

  ‘I think, sir, that it will be better if I settle it,’ said the Duke firmly.

  ‘As you please,’ said his lordship. ‘It will not hurt you to get out of this scrape by yourself, though I daresay you will be humbugged into paying her far too much. Never be deceived by a pretty face, my boy! All the same, these ladybirds!’

  He then favoured his awed young relatives with several surprising reminiscences of his own youth, pointed the moral to them, and said that it was high time he drove back to Cheyney. Gideon saw him to the Duke’s chaise. He paused for a minute or two in the doorway of the inn, and said, in a burst of confidence: ‘You know, Gideon, the boy has not managed so ill! I own, I had not thought he had so much resolution! I begin to have hopes of him. I should not be at all surprised if he turns out to be as good a man as his father. It is a thousand pities he is so undersized, but you may have noticed that he has his own dignity.’

  ‘I have frequently noticed it, sir.’

  ‘It would not have been wonderful if he had been daunted by all these constables, and kidnappers, and beadles, but no! Mind, he should not have done such a foolish thing, but as it chances no harm has come of it, and I shall say nothing more on that head. You are both of you past the age of being scolded.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ said his son, grinning affectionately at him.

  Twenty-four

  The Duke’s chaise, with his footman and all his baggage, having been despatched by Lord Lionel from Cheyney at an early hour on the following morning, Gilly lost no time in removing to the Christopher, where he instantly discarded his travel-stained raiment, and gratified Nettlebed by telling him that he might give the olive coat away, since he never wished to see it again. Not to be outdone in generosity, Nettlebed said that another such coat could be ordered from Scott – if his Grace preferred his cut to Weston’s. He then eased the Duke into a coat of blue superfine, carefully smoothed his nankeen pantaloons, flicked some quite imaginary dust from his Hessians, and added that if his opinion was asked, he would feel himself obliged to say that no one could cut a coat with quite that refinement of taste shown by Weston. The Duke, glancing at the reflection of his trim figure in the mirror, admitted that there was a good deal of truth in what he said, and went off, knowing that he had amply recompensed his servitor for any anxiety he had previously caused him to feel.

  He found his footman hovering in the passage, waiting, apparently, for no better purpose than to open the door for him into his private parlour. This well-trained individual wore a more than ordinarily inhuman expression, not even permitting himself one furtive glance at his master. But the Duke paused outside the parlour-door, and said smilingly: ‘I have not thanked you for contriving so cleverly for me, that day in London, Francis. I am very much obliged to you.’

  The footman, bringing his gaze down, found that the Duke was plainly waiting to slide a coin into his hand. He accepted this with becoming gratitude, and the Duke said: ‘I hope they did not ask you a great many awkward questions!’

  ‘No, your Grace, they never asked me any,’ replied Francis, encouraged by the twinkle in the Duke’s eye to relax his quelling rigidity. ‘And if they had, I wouldn’t have said a word, not if they’d offered me fifty pounds, I wouldn’t!’

  The Duke was a trifle startled by this evidence of devotion. ‘You are a very good fellow: thank you!’ he said.

  This unlooked-for courtesy threw Francis quite off his balance. He turned a dull red, and uttered in far less refined accents: ‘It weren’t nothing! I would be main glad to serve your Grace anyways you might wish!’

  The Duke murmured a suitable acknowledgment, and passed into the parlour. Francis, discovering that the coin in his hand was a golden one, instead of the shilling that was his due for any extraordinary service, drew a profound breath, and fell into a blissful reverie.

  The Duke found his cousin in the parlour, glancing through the Morning Post, which had just arrived from London by the mail-coach. He said, in an awed voice: ‘Gideon, the most dreadful thing! I have been quite deceived in that footman of mine!’

  Captain Ware lowered the newspaper. ‘Good God, what has he done?’

  ‘Why, nothing! But I thought he did not care a button what became of me, and I find he is as bad as all the rest! They must have drummed their nonsense into his head, for I never did the least thing to attach him to my interests! It is the most disheartening thing! He will grow old in my service, and become a dead bore to my sons!’

  Captain Ware roared with laughter. ‘Dismiss him instantly, Adolphus, dismiss him instantly!’

  ‘Oh, I couldn’t do so! It would be the unkindest thing!’ said the Duke involuntarily.

  ‘Then I fear that until you can bring yourself to do unkind things you must submit to being the idol of your servants. Tell me, would you be content to accept a Rudgeley for your Mudgley?’

  ‘Are you trying to roast me? What do you mean?’

  ‘Only that in obedience to your commands I have been pursuing some few enquiries. I am credibly informed that the receiving-office here has frequently handled letters addressed to a Mr Rudgeley, residing at Little End, Priston. Could Belinda have been mistaken in the name, do you suppose?’

  ‘Oh, very easily! You are the best of good fellows, Gideon! Where is Priston?’

  ‘Somewhere to the south-west, I’m told. Not very far, but off the pike-road.’

  ‘I’ll go there at once. What a curst nuisance it is that my curricle is not yet arrived in Bath! Oh, well! I’ll take my chaise! Francis! Oh, there you are! Tell them to bring my chaise to the door, if you please! I shan’t need more than a pair, but the postilion must acquaint himself with the road to Priston. Gideon, do you come with me?’

  ‘No, I thank you! I am going to promenade in the Pump Room. I think I shall drive out to dine at Cheyney later, to take dutiful leave of my parent.’

  ‘Oh, no, must you? Do you go back to town so soon?’

  ‘To-morrow, if I am not to face a court-martial.’

  ‘Well, my uncle always dines early in the country, so you may join us at the Dress Ball later,’ said the Duke.

  ‘Yes, if I had provided myself with evening-dress I might!’ retorted his cousin.

  ‘It is too bad: I shall miss you!’ said the Duke absently.

  ‘I hesitate to say it, Adolphus, but you are a liar!’

  The Duke laughed. ‘Oh, no!’ he protested, and went off to collect his hat and overcoat.

  Nettlebed was assisting him to put on this garment when Francis came to his room with the news that his bailiff had arrived from Cheyney and respectfully begged to see his Grace.

  The Duke groaned. ‘No, no, I cannot! He will keep me kicking my heels for an hour or more! Why could he not carry his troubles to my uncle? Tell him to go to the devil!’ He perceived that Francis was about to carry out this command, and added hastily: ‘No, do not! Tell him that I am very much occupied, and cannot see him until noon, or perhaps even later!’

  Francis bowed, and withdrew. Nettlebed said severely: ‘You shouldn’t have sent him off, your Grace. A very good man is Mr Moffat, and one as has your interests at heart.’

  ‘Well, I have more important business to attend to,’ replied the Duke impenitently.

  But he was once more doomed to disappointment. When, after being misdirected twice, he reached Little End, which was a small but respectable house beyond Priston, and was admitted to the presence of its master, he was dismayed to find himself confronting a gentleman greatly stricken in years. A stammering enquiry elicited the information that Mr Rudgeley was