But what he found very difficult to understand was why Lord Nettlecombe, who, so far from enjoying the company of his fellow men and women, had for years spurned even his oldest acquaintances, should have elected suddenly to spend the summer months where, according to the author of the Guide, repasts (served in the long rooms of the various inns) were “seasoned by social conversation”; and where “both sexes vied with each other in the art of being mutually agreeable”. It was possible, of course, that the circumstance of the expenses of living and lodging being moderate might have attracted his cheese-paring lordship; but this advantage must surely have been off-set by the cost of so long a journey. The Viscount, as he took his candle up to bed, wondered if Nettlecombe had travelled north on the common stage, but abandoned this notion, feeling that the old screw could not be such a shocking lick-penny as that. He might, with perfect propriety, have travelled on the Mail coach, but although this was much cheaper than hiring a private chaise it was by no means-dog-cheap, particularly when two places would have to be booked. Lord Nettlecombe might not travel in the rather outmoded state favoured by Lord Wroxton, but it was inconceivable to Desford that he could have gone away on a protracted visit without taking his valet with him. The thought of his high and imposing father’s regal process to Harrowgate, and his very brief stay there, made Desford begin to chuckle again. He must remember, he told himself, to ask Poor Dear Papa, at a suitable moment, for his opinion of Harrowgate.
Tain, his own extremely accomplished valet, had received without a blink the news that his lively young master meant to leave almost at crack of dawn for an unfashionable resort in Yorkshire; and when further told that he must pack whatever was strictly necessary into one portmanteau, he merely said: “Certainly, my lord. For how many days does your lordship mean to stay in Harrowgate?”
“Oh, not above two or three!” replied Desford. “I shan’t be attending any evening-parties, so don’t pack any ball-toggery.”
“Then one portmanteau will be quite sufficient for your lordship’s needs,” said Tain calmly. “Your dressing-case may go inside the chaise, and I shall not pack your Hessians, or any of your town-coats. I fancy they would be quite ineligible for wear in Those Parts.”
That was all he had to say about the projected expedition, either then or later; and Desford, who had had several years’ experience of his competence, never so much as thought of asking him whether he had packed enough shirts and neckcloths, and had found room for a change of outer raiment.
For his part, Tain showed not the smallest surprise at what he might have thought to be a very queer start, or betrayed by look or word that he was well aware of the Viscount’s purpose in going post-haste to Harrowgate, when his intention had been to attend the races at Newmarket. He had not yet seen Miss Steane, but he knew all about her meeting with the Viscount, for he stood on very friendly terms with both the Aldhams, and had contrived, without showing a vulgar curiosity unbecoming to a man of his consequence, to discover from them quite as much as they knew, and many of Mrs Aldham’s conjectures on the probable outcome of the adventure. On these he withheld judgment, feeling that he knew my lord far more intimately than they did, and having yet to see in him any of the signs of a gentleman who had fallen head over ears in love. He did not discuss the matter with Stebbing, not so much because it would have been beneath a gentleman’s gentleman to hobnob with a groom, but because he was as jealous of Stebbing as Stebbing was of him.
Before he went to bed, the Viscount wrote a brief letter to Miss Silverdale, informing her that he was off to Harrowgate, where he was reliably informed Nettlecombe was to be found, but hoped to be back again in not much more than a sennight’s time, when he would come to Inglehurst immediately, to tell her how his mission had prospered, or, he added, if it has not prospered, to discuss with you what were best to do next for that unfortunate child. I should think myself the biggest rascal unhung to have foisted her on to you, my best of friends, if I were not persuaded that she must have made you like her.
This missive he gave to Aldham on the following morning, telling him to send it by express post to Inglehurst. He then climbed into his chaise, and set forward on the long journey into Yorkshire.
Chapter 9
The Viscount suffered no delays on his journey, and might have reached Harrowgate at the end of the second day had it not occurred to him that to arrive without warning at a watering-place in the height of its season would probably entail a prolonged search for accommodation, and that the late evening was scarcely the time to prosecute this. So he spent the second night at the King’s Arms, in Leeds, leaving himself with only some twenty more miles to cover. He was an extremely healthy young man, and since he spent a great part of his time in all the more energetic forms of sport it was hard to tire him out, but two very long days in a post-chaise had made him feel as weary as he was bored. The chaise was his own, and very well-sprung, but it was also very lightly built, which, while it made for speed, meant that it bounded over the inequalities of the road in a manner not at all conducive to repose. Midway through the second day he remarked to Tain that he wished he could exchange places with one of the post-boys. Quite shocked, Tain said incredulously: “Exchange places with a post-boy, my lord?”