That was so unexpected that the actor gaped. ‘You jest, sir.’

  ‘I never jest in matters of commerce,’ Sir Humphrey told him sternly.

  ‘Could this be done?’

  ‘Aye, sir, you have my word on’t.’

  Mr Clements licked his lips.

  ‘So what say you?’ Sir Humphrey went on. ‘’Twould be easy enough to accomplish, I daresay. Dependin’ upon my word of recommendation, you understand.’

  ‘Aye,’ the actor said, understanding perfectly.

  ‘Well then, sir, think on’t. I could scarce recommend a libertine for such employ, or a runaway rake, or any other such idle fellow. That you’ll allow.’

  The two men looked at one another for a long moment, while the rising yellow light patterned their faces and molten wax ran down the sides of the candles like fat white tears. The room was so quiet they could hear the mice scratching in the wainscot. Sir George scowled by the bed. Frederick and the landlord stood still as stones in the doorway, their faces pale and grotesquely shadowed by the candle held between them. Ariadne sat in the shadows and trembled. Mr Clements was the first to drop his gaze.

  ‘Five minutes for ’ee to dress,’ Sir George said coldly, lifting the rest of his daughter’s clothes from the chair and dumping them on the bed.

  She turned away from him and held out her hands to her beloved, imploring, ‘Mr Clements, I beg you!’

  ‘’Tis the chance,’ the actor said, trying to hold her hands and finding the blanket a great encumbrance, ‘the chance, Addy my love.’

  ‘Have you no care for me?’ she said. ‘But two hours since I was your own true love, most dear to you in all the world. Have you forgot so soon?’

  ‘Five minutes for this to be concluded,’ Sir Humphrey warned, ‘or peradventure I may change my mind on’t.’

  ‘Put on your gown, my dearest,’ the actor urged her, touching Ariadne’s anguished cheeks with placating fingers. ‘I think it best. For any but Mr Garrick, I might resist, but this… Oh, my dearest Addy… I prithee put on your gown. Go with your father.’

  She flung his fingers aside as though they had stung her and rose from the bed, still draped in her filthy blanket but wearing it with the dignity of a queen. ‘If you betray me now,’ she warned, ‘I’ll ne’er speak again. No, not to you, nor yet to any man. Consider it well.’

  ‘’Tis my trade,’ he said and now his voice was cold and he had turned his body away from her.

  She let the blanket fall and began to dress herself, without a word and without modesty, as though she were alone in the room. And at that Frederick ushered the landlord out of the room and, taking the candles from his brother, stood with his back to her so as to afford her the decency of darkness. And Sir Humphrey took a card from his pocket and handed it across to his defeated adversary, and the matter was settled.

  It was blacker than ever in the alley and the walk home was pierced with rain, but Ariadne was in a trance of misery and rejection and noticed nothing. She crossed the bridge and climbed the hill without speaking and, when they were all safe within doors again, she stood quite still in the hall, gazing into space with a face so expressionless it quite chilled her uncle to see it. When he asked her if she would care to retire, she went silently to the room he indicated and, although he wished her goodnight, she made no response whatever.

  ‘Poor soul!’ he said, as the door closed behind her. ‘She is much wounded, I fear.’

  ‘And so she should be,’ her father said irritably. She had shamed him before a member of the prestigious de Thespia family, and now the marriage was lost. Hermione would be angered and there were endless and embarrassing difficulties ahead of him. ‘She will recover.’

  Frederick was all solicitous concern. ‘Should I have a room prepared for you, Sir Humphrey?’ he asked.

  But Sir Humphrey declined the offer, explaining that his constitution was so delicate that he could only sleep upon a mattress made to his particular design ‘and then only for a matter of hours, don’tcher know.’ He would prefer to sit up until daybreak, which was only an hour or two away, in all conscience. As soon as there was sufficient light to travel in safety, he would return to Bath. ‘Sir George will sit up with me and keep me company,’ he said. ‘We have matters to discuss, have we not?’

  Sir George agreed that they had, secretly wishing that he could avoid it. So the fire was made up, Frederick retired at last and the two men were left to their vigil.

  ‘A bad business,’ Sir George said apologetically ‘Would ’twere not so. She’ll be punished for it, I promise you.’

  Sir Humphrey waved his long fingers. ‘’Tis of no consequence,’ he said, easily. ‘I cannot marry her, you understand, the fault being too public, but we have avoided a scandal which is nine-tenths of the matter.’

  ‘If the actor don’t blab.’

  Sir Humphrey was sanguine about it. ‘Oh, I dare swear he’ll hold his peace,’ he said, ‘with such a prize to be earned. We need have no fear of that.’

  ‘The folly of it!’ Sir George grieved. ‘The wretched iniquitous folly. I thought to make you my son-in-law and now her foolishness brings all to ruination.’

  ‘Courage, sir,’ commiserated Sir Humphrey. ‘You have another daughter, have you not? And one, if I am any judge, too young and sensible for foolishness. How of a match there? With a suitable dowry, naturally.’

  Sir George widened his eyes. ‘A capital idea!’ he said. Would your father approve, think ’ee?’

  Knowing how much the Bradbury money meant to his family and how necessary it was for him to many into it so as to buy off his creditors, Sir Humphrey was happy to assure his prospective father-in-law that the new arrangement would almost certainly find favour. ‘There is much to be gained on both sides by this alliance,’ he pointed out. ‘Our two families being business partners already, and in no small enterprise, as I need hardly say.’

  ‘A capital idea!’ Sir George repeated. His relief was so intense that for the moment he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  Dawn was staining the lower edge of the window glass with green light, the trees and shrubs in the garden were gathering dark shape, and down below them they could see the first faint gleam of river water. ‘Time to be on the road, I believe,’ Sir Humphrey said.

  So Barnaby was roared for and Morgan roused from the shelf in the kitchen where he slept. A jug of water was brought to both gentlemen to cleanse their hands, and cold beef, bread and beer provided to sustain them. Barnaby was sent to wake Ariadne.

  She came into the drawing room ten minutes later, dressed and neat, quiet and withdrawn. She sat down when told to do so, took a dish of tea when ordered, but she didn’t speak and she didn’t look up. She might have been a statue or some life-sized mechanical toy. Neither of the men paid her any attention at all. They were far too busy discussing the excellent conversion of the Yorick and the fire power of her guns.

  ‘Force, sir,’ said Sir Humphrey. ‘That’s the only language they understand.’

  Chapter 26

  Suki Brown was busy dicing potatoes by the area window in the kitchen at South Parade when she was distracted by the sound of grinding wheels and looked up to see Ariadne’s tattered yellow pumps stepping down from Sir George’s carriage. She was instantly burning with pity for the poor lady and furious at Farmer Lambton. ’Tis all his fault, she thought angrily. They’d never have found her so soon if it hadn’t been for him a-telling tales. I knew ’twould be so.

  Alerted by the sound of the carriage, the rest of the servants came to join her at the window. ‘Well that’s put paid to that old actor feller then,’ Cook said cheerfully.

  The scullery maid had her nose pressed against the pane and was squinting upwards to get a better view. ‘They’m a-coming in,’ she reported. ‘I wonder what’s happened.’

  ‘Perhaps they fought a duel,’ Bessie suggested ghoulishly, ‘and the master killed ’im. What d’you think?’

  He certainly sounded fierce enough. They could hear him in the hall, bellowing like a bull, ‘Hermione! Deuce take it! Hermione! Where is the woman?’

  ‘Oh, go on then,’ Cook said, as the three girls looked hopefully at her. ‘There’ll be no peace till you’ve found out what’s happened.’

  So they crept up the back stairs to eavesdrop.

  Lady Bradbury was skimming towards the foot of the stairs, one lace-edged hand gliding over the banisters and her new sack-back gown billowing behind her like a sail, and she was scolding furiously. ‘You wicked, wicked girl! How you could do such a thing to your dear parents who so truly love you? ’Tis past my comprehension. Ain’t you ashamed to be so wicked?’

  ‘You’ll get no answer, ma’am, so you may as well spare your breath,’ Sir George said, brusque with anger and incomprehension. ‘The wench is dumb.’

  ‘How? Dumb?’ her mother demanded. ‘What nonsense! She will speak to her mother.’ She put out her hands to turn her daughter towards her, shaking her angrily. But Ariadne stood as still as a stone, mute and apart, looking into nothing. She might as well have been a corpse.

  ‘Ain’t spoke a word since I found her, and that’s the truth of it, damme,’ Sir George said, scowling at her.

  Crouched behind the servants’ door, Suki and Bessie looked at one another in amazement. She couldn’t be dumb, surely. Something terrible must have happened. But before they could say anything, they heard Mr Jessup coughing in the passageway below them, so they had to tiptoe back to the kitchen.

  ‘We shall know about it soon enough,’ Bessie said. ‘That I’m certain sure, for ’tis mortal bad to be struck dumb.’

  Above their heads, Hermione was still holding Ariadne’s unresponsive shoulders, peering into her empty face. Now she looked more anxious than angry. ‘What ails her?’ she said. ‘Is she hurt? Is that it?’

  Sir George was on his way upstairs, bellowing for Jessup.

  ‘If she is ill,’ Hermione called after him, ‘we must send for a surgeon.’

  ‘You may do as you please, ma’am,’ he called back coldly, pausing briefly in his ascent. ‘’Tis all one to me. I’ve done my part. If ’twere the old days she’d ha’ been whipped, which she would do well to remember. She deserves as much. I wash my hands of the whole affair. I shall change my clothes, whilst they’re attending the horses, and then I’m off to the tables.’ A spot of gambling would cheer him. ‘’Od’s bowels! It makes my blood boil to look upon her!’

  ‘My heart is palpitating!’ Hermione complained to his disappearing back. ‘I shall run distracted!’ But he took no notice of her, even though she put her kerchief to her forehead and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, Jessup was standing politely before her, so she recovered herself and became practical. ‘Pray run for Mr McKinnon,’ she ordered, ‘and send Hepzibah to me, and the wet nurse to attend to Miss Ariadne. You see how things are with us. We are too ill to stand.’ And she sailed away towards her boudoir, with Ariadne walking stiffly and obediently behind her.

  Just at that moment, Melissa returned from the baths, brick red and sweaty inside her steaming chair, and was carried into the hall, ready for Hepzie to assist her to her bed and the full sweat she needed which had now begun.

  ‘Mamma!’ she called petulantly from the damp side window. ‘Pray send Hepzibah to me directly!’

  ‘You must make shift for yourself,’ her mother said, waving her kerchief weakly in the general direction of the chair. ‘Your sister is returned and we are all too ill and upset for words!’

  ‘’Od’s blood!’ Melissa said angrily. ‘It’s come to something when a person may not be treated civilly in a person’s own house.’ She struggled out of the chair on her own, and began to puff up the stairs after her mother, very red in the face and dripping water from her bath gown as she went. ‘I see I must be a runaway if I wish to be treated civilly. Those who stay at home and behave with propriety are not worth the candle in this world.’

  But at that point, her father put his red face over the banisters to address her and what he had to say stilled all complaint and even startled her mother to silence. ‘Ah!’ he boomed. ‘Melissa! You’re there, are yer? You’re to marry Sir Humphrey de Thespia. What d’you say to that?’

  As a proposal, it lacked a certain style but Melissa was enchanted by it, thrilled, uplifted, and cattily rewarded. She had stolen her sister’s fiancé, which was triumph enough, in all conscience, and all without lifting a finger or batting an eyelid. And now she would be the first daughter to marry, which meant that Ariadne would have to dance at her wedding while she would be the queen of the hour. And she would have a rich husband and fine clothes and a diamond necklace and the best food and a town house and a country house and a carriage with a coat of arms...

  ‘I am honoured, Papa,’ she said and dropped him a dripping curtsey to prove it.

  Her father was as pleased with her answer as she’d been with his question. ‘That, mark ’ee, Lady Bradbury,’ he said, ‘is the proper way for a daughter to behave. Would you had two who knew it. ’Tis settled then, Melissa. You’re engaged to dine with him at Lady Fosdyke’s this afternoon.’

  Hermione was thinking fast. ’Twas wondrous to know that her alliance with the great de Thespia family was still intact, but there would be all manner of problems to be solved. She would have to write to her own family, for a start, with some acceptable reason for the change of bride, or they would sense a scandal and refuse to attend. She could say ’twas a love match, perchance, that none had the heart to deny. She could stress Ariadne’s generosity in standing aside for the happiness of her sister.

  She was so busy with her thoughts that she forgot to applaud her younger daughter, who had to remind her. ‘Mamma, am I not worth congratulation?’

  ‘Indeed,’ she said, remembering herself, ‘my dearest child. ’Tis a most happy match and one that does you honour.’

  ‘I shall need a lady’s maid,’ Melissa said, remembering how her sister had been treated.

  ‘You shall have Hepzibah.’

  ‘And new gowns?’

  ‘As many as you wish.’

  Melissa looked smugly at her sister’s unresponsive back. ‘And I suppose Ariadne will have to dance at my wedding?’

  It was a minor detail to her mother. ‘Yes,’ she said, vaguely. ‘Be like. But first we must cure her of this present infirmity.’ And she led them both upstairs.

  Below stairs, the household was in such uproar that there was barely time to pass on the gossip. The bells in the kitchen rang like church chimes, jumping and jangling until Cook declared they’d shake the board off the wall if they didn’t give over. Barnaby was dispatched to fetch a barber, Jessup had gone for the surgeon, Hepzie was told to make a cold compress, Bessie was required to provide hot water, fresh towels, sal volatile, a clean chamber pot, and a complete change of linen for Sir George — in that order and with considerable difficulty, for Benjy was beside himself with so much traffic on the stairs and was soon running berserk, nipping ankles and barking himself into a froth.

  Suki went straight upstairs to Miss Ariadne. She found her sitting on her bed as still as a statue and totally mute. Her eyes flickered towards her friend, but without recognition, and there was no expression on her face at all. The sight of her was so upsetting that it was all Suki could do not to cry. ’Tis my fault, she thought. I was the one what spoke of choosing your own lover. I told her ’twas the proper thing to do. She remembered Ariadne’s excitement and the pretty flush on her cheeks as she’d leant towards her lover. ‘I have followed your teaching to the letter.’

  ‘Oh, Miss Ariadne,’ she said. ‘I’d do anything to help ’ee. Truly I would.’

  ‘An infusion of sage tea, perchance,’ Lady Bradbury said from the doorway. She was holding the cold compress delicately on to her forehead with one lace-trimmed hand but her face and her voice were distracted.

  ‘’Tis a comfortable drink, ma’am,’ Suki said, still watching Ariadne, ‘with no harm in it.’ And no response to it either.

  ‘I believe my daughter is bewitched,’ the lady said. ‘How I shall sustain this suffering I truly do not know. Oh, would Mr McKinnon were here. He is taking an unconscionable time, is he not?’

  Mr McKinnon had been at the Cross Baths attending a dowager, and so he made less speed than he could have wished. It was nearly half an hour before his bearers finally brought him to South Parade. But he made up for his tardiness by elaborate manifestations of concern and the provision of three different medicaments in as many minutes; all for Lady Bradbury, naturally, since she held the purse strings. She was prescribed a restorative powder for her weakened pulse, asafoetida for her swooning fits, and a blackcurrant cordial to rouse her spirits. But Ariadne was a puzzle, as the gentleman himself confessed with much learned shaking of his fine new full-bottomed wig. ‘An enigma, ma’am, I’ll own it. But we will accept this case, fear not. ’Tis a challenge.’

  ‘We?’ Hermione queried faintly, sipping his restorative.

  ‘Indeed so, ma’am,’ the doctor said, assuming his most deeply concerned expression. ‘’Tis a case will require the combined wit and learning of at least… three… doctors. I have never seen the like, ma’am.’ Then as he foresaw a possible loss of faith in his judgement, he continued quickly. ‘A similar on one occasion, which I do assure you was treated to a most successful conclusion. Most successful. Howsomever, since there are differences in this case — the lady being, shall we say, mute — I do maintain we should proceed with the utmost caution. The utmost caution. I will do myself the honour, ma’am, to call upon you again before dinner, with two of my esteemed colleagues. Did you wish me to attend upon your husband whilst I am in the house?’

  Within an hour, Sir George had changed his linen, taken tea and a clyster and departed for the gaming house, leaving the foetid smell of his relief behind him.

  Within an hour and a half, Mr McKinnon had come back again with his two opportunist colleagues, one short and obsequious, bearing a jar of very fat leeches from Bordeaux, the other tall and taciturn with a lancet protruding from his top pocket.