“Cousin Rotherham likes people who square up to him,” said Charles. “He’s a great gun.”
But Rotherham today had shown no signs of liking it, thought Gerard bitterly, unable to perceive the gulf that lay between his rehearsed defiance, and his graceless brother’s innate pugnacity. It had angered him into uttering words so scathing that for several stark minutes Gerard had been thrown into such a storm of shocked fury that he was jerked out of his shams, and hurled his defiance at Rotherham without the smallest thought of impressing him. He was angry, and frightened, and deeply mortified; and for quite some time continued in this frame of mind. But as the distance increased between himself and Claycross the tone of his mind became gradually restored, and from quaking at the realization that he was flatly disobeying Rotherham, and wondering what the result would be, he began to believe that he had acquitted himself well in his distressing interview with him. From thinking of all the retorts he might have made it was a very short step to imagining that he really had made them; and by the time he reached Bath he was almost set up again in his own conceit, and much inclined to think that he had taught Rotherham a lesson.
Since nothing would be more disagreeable than to be obliged to apply to Rotherham for more funds, he prudently sought out a modest hostelry in the less fashionable part of the town, and installed himself there with every intention of discovering Emily’s whereabouts on the following morning. In the event, it was not until two days later that he saw her entering the Pump Room with her grandmother, and was at last able to approach her. The task of locating the house of a lady whose name he had never been told had proved to be unexpectedly difficult.
Emily was very much surprised to see him, and accorded him an ingenuously delighted welcome. He was a pretty youth, with pleasing manners, and such an air of fashion that his company could not but add to her consequence. His passion for her, moreover, was expressed with the greatest decorum, and took the form of humble worship, which was quite unalarming. Upon her first going to London, he had been assiduous in his attentions, and she had enjoyed with him her first flirtation. Not a profound thinker, if she remembered the vows she had exchanged with him, she supposed that he had meant them no more seriously than she had. She did recollect that she had felt very low for quite a week after Mama had forbidden him to visit them again, but Mama had assured her that she would soon recover from her disappointment, which, in fact, she had. Among the crowd of Pinks, Tulips, Blades, Beaux, and High Sticklers with whom she rapidly became acquainted, Gerard was to a great extent forgotten.
But she liked him very well, and was happy to meet him again, and at once presented him to Mrs Floore.
Mrs Floore came as a shock to him, for although he had frequently heard his mama stigmatize Lady Laleham as a vulgar creature he had paid very little heed to a stricture he had heard often before, and which generally denoted merely that Mrs Monksleigh had quarrelled with whichever lady was in question. He had expected nothing as unrefined as Mrs Floore, who was arrayed in a gown of such a powerful shade of purple that he almost blinked. However, he had very good manners, and he quickly concealed his astonishment, and made her a civil bow.
Mrs Floore was inclined to favour him. She liked young persons, and Gerard struck her as a pretty-behaved beau, dressed as fine as fivepence, and plainly of the first respectability. But her shrewd gaze had not failed to perceive the ardour in his face when he had come hurrying up to Emily, and she determined not to encourage him. It would never do, she thought, for him to be dangling after Emily in a lovelorn way calculated to set Bath tongues wagging. There was no saying but what Emily’s grand Marquis might not like it above half, if it came to his ears. So when she heard him asking Emily if she would be at the Lower Rooms that evening, she interposed, saying that Emily must stay at home to recruit her strength for the Gala night at the Sydney Gardens on the following evening. Gerard, on his guard from the instant he realized this amazing old lady’s relationship to his adored, took this with perfect propriety. It was Emily who exclaimed against the prohibition, but so much more in the manner of a child denied a treat than in that of a damsel bent on flirting with a personable admirer, that Mrs Floore relented a little, and said that they would see. It naturally did not occur to her that Emily could have a tendre for any other man than her betrothed, but she was well aware that Emily was apt (in the most innocent way) to give rather more encouragement than was seemly in her situation to her admirers. It was all very well for the chit to talk in that misleadingly confiding way of hers to a steady young fellow like Ned Goring, whom one could trust to take no liberties; quite another for her to be giving this smart town sprig to think that she would welcome a flirtation.
But when, after Gerard had escorted the two ladies back to Beaufort Square, very politely giving Mrs Floore his arm, she told Emily that it would not do for her to be too friendly with such a handsome young beau, Emily looked surprised, and said: “But he is such a splendid dancer, Grandmama! Must I not stand up with him? Why ought I not? He is quite the thing, you know!”
“I daresay he’s one of the first stare, pet, but would his lordship like it? That’s what you ought to think of, only you’re such a flighty little puss—well, there!”
“Oh, but Lord Rotherham could have not the least objection!” Emily assured her. “Gerard is his ward. They are cousins.”
That, of course, put a very different complexion on the matter, and made Mrs Floore exclaim against Emily for not having told her so in time for her to have invited Mr Monksleigh to dine with them. But that was soon rectified. She took Emily to the ball, and there was Mr Monksleigh, nattier than ever in evening dress, his ordered locks glistening with Russia Oil, and the many swathes of his neckcloth obliging him to hold his head very much up. Several young ladies watched his progress across the room with approval, most of the gentlemen with tolerant amusement, and Mr Guynette, who had attempted unavailingly to present him to a lady lacking a partner for the boulanger, with strong disapprobation.
Gerard was in no mood for dancing, but since there seemed to be no other way of detaching Emily from her grandmother, he led her into the set that was just forming, saying urgently: “I must see you alone! How may it be contrived?”
She shook her head wonderingly. “Grandmama would not like it! Besides, everyone would stare!”
“Not here! But we must meet! Emily, I have only just learnt of this—this engagement you have entered into! Have been forced into! I know you cannot—I have come all the way from Scarborough to see you! Quickly, where may we meet?”
Her hand trembled in his; she whispered: “Oh—! I don’t know! It is so dreadful! I am very unhappy!”
He caught his breath. “I knew it!”
There was no time for more; they were obliged to take their places in the set; to school their countenances; and to exchange such conversation as was suitable to the occasion. When the movement of the dance brought them together, Gerard said: “Will your grandmama permit me to visit her?”
“Yes, but pray take care! She said I must not be too friendly, only then I told her you were Lord Rotherham’s ward, and so she will ask you to dine with us, and go to the Sydney Gardens tomorrow. Oh, Gerard, I do not know what to do!”
He squeezed her fingers. “I have come to save you!”
She found nothing to smile at in this announcement, but threw him a look brimful of gratitude and admiration as they parted again, and waited hopefully to know how her rescue was to be accomplished.
She had to remain in suspense until the following evening; and when he was at last able to disclose his plans to her, she found them disappointing.