Worcester came to town on the following morning, and all the duchess
could say or do Worcester insisted on passing the whole of every day
with me.
"My lord," Will Haught would say through the keyhole of our bed-room,
"my lord, the duchess desired me to tell you that she has a great deal
of business to settle with you to-day about, in short, about all manner
of things, my lord."
"Very well, that is enough, Will," his lordship would answer.
In another hour this torment would knock again.
"My lord Her Grace looked rather displeased this morning. The duchess
was almost in a passion."
"You be d----d! go along!" was the elegant reply.
"My lord," in another hour, "you see I'm tired of standing in this
here room, and the duchess this morning--I assure you, my lord,--your
lordship knows what I mean, Her Grace had got a very particular look in
her face; you know, my lord, how she looks when she's vexed like, and
takes on, you know, my lord."
"Go to hell!" vociferated Worcester, from the emergency of the case,
although he had by no means the habit of swearing.
"I'm going, my lord," answered Will Haught.
Everything was arranged in a week for my accompanying Worcester to
Spain. My female attendant was hired and my trunks nearly ready; but, as
new objections continually offered themselves to this plan, Worcester
was reduced almost to despair, and looked so miserably ill that
everybody he met made the observation.
The army was not expected to be stationary. If I remained at Lisbon, I
should see no more of him than by remaining in London. The misery and
expense and privations, perhaps insults, I must endure, in my attempt
to follow the army could scarcely be surmounted; and Worcester could
not deny that I should make a coward of him; that fight he could not,
supposing I might be suffering under sickness or difficulty. At last, it
was finally decided, between us, as a thing impossible. We must then be
separated for one year, since there is no remedy; "but," said Worcester,
"I shall declare to my father, that at the end of that time we will
part no more. He has implored me to make a trial of a year's absence,
and I have consented; but, in twelve months from the day I leave you,
supposing I am not on my road to join you in England, remember you are
to come to me."
This I promised, should the thing be practicable.
At all events, no power on earth, he solemnly vowed and declared a
thousand times over, and as solemnly wrote it down, that neither man nor
devil should separate us longer than twelve months, during which time my
last kiss was to be virgined on his true lip.
"If ever you prove false to me, or I to you, let all inconstant men be
called Ponders, and all false women, Cressids," said Worcester, or he
ought to have said so. In short, he spoke to this effect, only he spoke
more strongly; for, in his zeal, I believe, he hoped we might both go
where he had sent Will Haught, if ever we were inconstant; and, yet, he
was leaving his beloved, surrounded with spies and flatterers of the
duke, in the gay city of London.
"Never mind, my love," said I, "for, if my residing in the metropolis
makes you miserable, I'll go and bury my wonderful charms in a village
and so immortalise it for ever!"
But Worcester declared that all the comfort he was capable of feeling
at that moment, was my honour.
"_Mais, ne sais-tu pas que je l'ai perdu?_" I inquired.
"_N'importe. Si je place ma confiance, mon ange! c'est en toi,_" said
Worcester.
* * * * *
All this joking on serious and affecting matters is really in
monstrously bad taste! I cannot conceive how I can be guilty of such
heartless unfeeling behaviour! I, who condoled so pathetically both
in the crim. con. cases of Lord Boringdon, whom Ponsonby used to call
the Boring Don, and Sir William Abdy, when those excellent and abused
husbands took their tea with me expressly, as they both declared,
because I was a woman of such acute feelings; but, after all, being
now in the daily habit of meeting this profligate Marquis of Worcester
about Paris, with the sister of his late wife, and seeing him look as
if he did not even know me by sight, while I often forget, until he
has passed, where or when I have seen that man before, the face being
familiar, and, perhaps, the name even forgotten--"Oh, by-the-bye!" I say
to myself, if I meet him a second time in the same morning, "now I think
of it, that long-nosed tall man is Worcester." And just in this way does
his own treacherous memory no doubt treat his own "dearest dear; own
beloved! ever adored, and ever to be adored! delicious! sweet! darling!
wife! Harriette."
_Tant ces choses la fâchent, quand on y pense! mais, ainsi va le monde!
C'est dommage! Quoi faire?_ and how can one write pathetically on such
trifling subjects? But, nevertheless, I beg my readers to understand,
and believe that, though I was never in love with Worcester in my whole
life, yet I was at one time much too grateful, and too much attached to
him, ever to feel the slightest wish to be unfaithful even in thought,
and, with his ardour on one side, and my friendly civility on the other,
we certainly jogged on very well together; for I am, as I believe all
my friends will admit, so warm-hearted naturally that my mere friendship
is quite a match for many women's love. I am sure I always folded
Worcester's neck handkerchiefs for him with my own hands, because he
declared nobody else understood them: and besides this, I, every Monday
morning of my life, read the housemaid a lecture about keeping his
dressing-room free from dust! _Qu'est ce qu'il voulait donc?_
* * * * *
Worcester declared that he would not leave me, until his father would
make me an allowance, at least during his absence from England. For this
purpose, about three days previous to his departure, he brought Mr.
Robinson, as he said, from the Duke of Beaufort.
Robinson declared that anything Worcester could sign, by way of annuity
or allowance, would be good for nothing; "but," he continued, "I am
come to pass my word, in the Duke's name, that the allowance Worcester
requires for you shall be paid to you, in regular quarterly payments,
after all your house debts, &c, have been discharged."
"Of course, Worcester, I may trust to this assurance made in your
presence?" I inquired.
Worcester was sure his father would act up to his engagements, and I,
being in grief, and naturally careless in money-matters, believing, too,
that I was in the power of gentlemen, and gentlemen of strict honour,
assured them I was under no alarm, and never expected to be left to
starve, while I endeavoured to do my duty, and then the subject dropped.
On the last day we passed together we certainly shed a superabundance
of tears. Poor Worcester was half blinded with his: and, seriously, a
man going to be hanged could not well have appeared more discouraged or
dismayed.
"I will write at least a quire of foolscap to you every day," said
Worcester, "and may God bless my adored wife, and bless me only just as
I am found ready to sacrifice my life for her happiness." In short, but
for Lord William Somerset, who absolutely dragged him out of the house a
few minutes before the Falmouth mail started, I almost believe he would
have preferred love to glory and given old Wellington the slip.
I passed the night entirely without rest, in spite of all the efforts
I made to recover my spirits. "He is gone. Nothing can bring him back.
Well, should he not be killed, it is a good thing for a young man to see
a little service. It wont do for me to lose all my life in fretting."
And fifty more such wise remarks did I repeat to myself during the long
night, and yet I could not forget poor Worcester's extreme kindness and
attachment.
In two days more I was visited by Robinson, who used every argument in
his power to convince me of the folly of ever expecting to live with
Worcester again.
"Why not act with common sense?" said Robinson. "There is His Grace
of Beaufort ready to provide for you in the most comfortable manner
possible for your whole life, in short, as I told you before, you may
make your own terms, conditionally that you never speak or write to his
lordship again."
I begged Mr. Robinson not to lose his time in teasing me when I was out
of spirits. "Pray acquaint the duke that Worcester refused to leave
England until I had solemnly pledged myself to write to him constantly,
and wait for him a year from the day of his departure, and then tell me
if the duke commands me to break my written oath and ill-use his son?"
"If he does, will you do it?" Robinson asked; but, considering this an
impertinent question I refused to answer it, and again the worthy man
went away in very ill-humour, declaring that for his part he could not
treat with me.
Fanny was my constant visitor after Worcester had left England, and
did all in her power to amuse and enliven me. Worcester had promised
to make the acquaintance of Colonel Parker in Spain, and send her word
how he went on, whom he made love to, and in short, all the news about
him he could possibly scrape together. Fanny was very grateful to his
lordship for having himself suggested this plan to her. She was still
living with Julia, and Julia was yet beloved and adored by Mr. Napier,
who might have been her son in point of age and appearance.
My opera-box had been engaged for that season, and paid for, before Lord
Worcester thought of being ordered off to the continent, and Fanny and
Julia had each of them purchased a ticket from me; yet I did not like
the idea of going there without his lordship. I knew I should feel dull,
and that the duke and duchess, whose box was opposite mine, would make
their observations on whatever I did, and might report mere nothings in
a way to disturb poor Worcester's feelings.
"I will not go to-night," said I, in answer to Julia's pressing
entreaties, and I kept my word.
I received, by the earliest occasion, a very long letter dated Falmouth
from Lord Worcester, who regretted, of all things, being detained
perhaps for several days longer in England. To be still in the same
country with his adored, beautiful wife, and yet know that we could not
again meet for a year, was what affected him more than he could possibly
describe, &c.; but really, love-letters are all so much alike that it
may be as well to refer my readers to Mr. Charlton's, or to those Lord
Charles Bentinck addressed to Lady Abdy, they being already printed and
published, and consequently come-at-able by all my gentle readers.
The following Saturday's Opera was expected to be unusually brilliant.
All the fashionable world were in town: there was a new ballet too, and
a new French dancer; and Fanny declared it to be the height of folly to
have paid two hundred guineas for an opera-box without making use of it.
"Well," said I, "since Worcester cannot well be shot by the enemy
previous to his reaching headquarters, I may as well take the
opportunity of seeing two or three more ballets; for, as to indulging in
gaieties while a parcel of shots are flying about his head or across his
brain is not in my nature." This last was, by-the-bye, a very foolish
idea, but a nervous woman will often fancy impossibilities, and that was
my case. However, I determined to cut all public amusements as soon as I
knew Worcester to be in contact with the enemies of old England.
We were all three unusually well dressed on that evening, for our finery
was new and we humbly hoped in very good taste. On this night too, I may
say without flattering myself, that there was no lack of humble servants
and devoted pretenders among the gentlemen in waiting, who crowded about
me, believing, of course, that, in the absence of my jealous lord, it
would be no difficult matter to obtain favour in my sight, and, whether
I was the style of woman they liked, or just the reverse, still it
was always worth while cutting out a man who had been so proverbially
in love as Worcester. No doubt, argued such tasteless beings, who for
their own part saw nothing at all remarkable about me, no doubt she must
improve wonderfully on acquaintance: at all events, it is worth trying
what she is like. In short, if it had been possible to have turned
my head by flattery, _il y avait vraiment, de quoi;_ and it has been
remarked by several persons in high life, who knew the world well, that
it would have been easy for me to have secured at that period not less
than a dozen annuities.
Amy was rather gay too that season, in her box next to mine, and the
Honourable Berkeley Paget had cut his wife and all his family to
accompany her, by her particular desire, about the streets and in all
public places. In short, he lived in the same house with her and seldom
quitted her for an instant. Everybody cried out shame, and some few such
very moral men as the Duke of York actually cut him dead, and refused
to receive him at Oatlands even on public nights: for, said His Royal
Highness, "A man ought to be of royal blood before he presumes to commit
adultery, except in private, like Lords Cowper and Maryborough."
Fanny and Julia were both looking remarkably well, and many a beau
turned his head wishfully towards our box, anxiously waiting to observe
a vacancy for one.
Brummell, Lord William Russell, Frederick Bentinck, Lord Molyneux,
Captain Fitzclarence, Lord Fife, Duc de Berri, Montagu, Berkeley Craven,
and God knows how many more, were our visitors.
A young man, whose name I have forgotten, came to request the favour of
being allowed to present Mr. Meyler to me.
This Meyler was the young, rich, Hampshire gentleman who, Worcester
assured me, had professed to entertain such a violent dislike towards
me. Both Fanny and I at once concluded that he wanted to come to me as a
spy, either at his favourite's, the Duchess of Beaufort's suggestion, or
his own.
"Don't see him," said Fanny, "I am sure he will make mischief."
For my part, as I have before informed my readers, _J'avais de temps en
temps le diable an corps,_, and I liked the description Sir John Boyd
had given me of that young gentleman's style of beauty and expression,
and I was, besides, rather curious to see how such a man would set about
disliking me!
"No doubt," thought I, "since Meyler is such a mere profligate, he
proposes succeeding with me at once, merely to laugh at me afterwards,
and acquaint Worcester what a loose woman I am. He may not be aware that
I know him to be the friend of Worcester's family."
Having made all these wise reflections to myself while the young man
chatted with Julia, I addressed him to inquire what sort of a person he
intended introducing to me.
"Oh, a charming, beautiful youth, whom all the ladies are in love with,"
was the reply; and I desired him to bring Mr. Meyler to me immediately.
He took me at my word, and soon returned to present to our notice
a man, certainly of a very interesting appearance, and with a most
expressive countenance. His manner too was particularly unaffected and
gentlemanlike, and the tones of his voice were very sweet: nevertheless,
it was easy to discover, in spite of his naturally good breeding, that
he held me rather cheap.
In short, to put the idea of respect to me out of the question, he
attempted to give me a kiss, as we descended the stairs together; but,
though I refused decidedly, it was done rather coquettishly, on purpose
that he might induce to renew the attack at some future day, with a
little more ceremony.
"There would be no merit," I thought, "for Worcester, or the duchess,
to learn that I had declined giving encouragement to such abrupt
impertinence from a wild young rake, who was known to care for no woman
breathing beyond the moment."
"Meyler is a beautiful creature," thought I to myself when stepping
into bed; "I wonder if he ever will really know how to love a woman
during his lifetime? If he were to be in love, what a bright glowing
countenance he possesses for expressing that or indeed any other
passion!" Still it was all nothing to me. Poor Worcester was going into
danger for my sake, and for mine alone, and sure I was as of my life,
that it was not in my nature to carry on a sly intercourse with another
man: and there was a year to wait according to my oath, and Meyler,
in that time, would have passed over at least five hundred little
caprices--and then, to crown all, he could not endure me, and only
visited me for the honourable purpose of proving how very cheap he had
held me!
This idea settled me for that night, at least, and I fell asleep without
dreaming of Meyler, and awoke almost without recollecting his existence.
At three o'clock in the day, my servant announced a gentleman, who
refused to send up his name, merely saying that he lived in Grosvenor
Square, and wanted to speak to me.
I was about to insist on knowing who my visitor was before I admitted
him, when the idea struck me, as just possible, and I requested he might
be shown upstairs.
It was the Duke of Beaufort!
I was surprised at receiving a visit from His Grace, and still more so
when I found that he really had nothing particular to say to me. He
hesitated a good deal, looked rather foolish, and wished, for my own
sake as well as his son's, that I would abandon all hopes and leave off
corresponding with his son.
"Duke," said I, interrupting him, "was it not your first and most
anxious wish that Worcester should go abroad?"
"It was."
"Well then, Lord Worcester positively and absolutely refused to leave
London, until I had pledged myself in the most solemn manner to continue
faithfully his, and not place myself under the protection of any other
man for one twelve-month from the day he should leave England. Do you
still ask me to break my oath?"
The Duke, from very shame perhaps, was silent, and stood against my door
fidgeting and hesitating, as though he would have proposed something or
other, but that he wanted courage.
After a long pause, he suddenly, and with abruptness, said, "Who makes
your shoes?"
I fixed my eyes upon His Grace in unaffected astonishment at this
irrelevant question.
"We will say nothing of the feet and the ankles," continued His Grace.
This compliment was so very unlooked for from such a quarter, and
struck me so very odd, that I felt myself actually blushing up to the
very eyes, and I immediately changed the conversation from my feet and
ankles to the young marquis and the Peninsula.
His Grace, when he took his leave of me, had made no single proposal nor
said one single word which could in any way assist my guess as to why he
did me the honour to call on me.
I received two more very long letters from Falmouth: the last was
written in despair, agony of mind, &c., to use Worcester's own words,
and put into the post on the very eve of his lordship's sailing for
Lisbon.
On the following Saturday, just as I was seated in my opera-box, Meyler
occurred to me again for the first time, and I was rather curious, at
least, to know whether he meant to visit me any more. Perhaps I was
half desirous that he should. It is true he could be nothing to me,
and besides he was so abominably cool and impertinent, and then he had
declared that he thought me anything but desirable. Still, I told Fanny,
I should like to have one more look at him before I died or retired into
the country, merely to ascertain if the expression of his countenance
was really as beautiful as it had struck me to be at first sight.
Fanny declared that it was very wicked of me to wish anything whatever
about the matter; but Julia said, Meyler had if possible a more
delicious face than even her own adored Harry Mildmay; and, for her
part, she candidly owned he had but once to put the question to her, and
alas, poor Napier!
However, Fanny might have spared her sermon, since neither Julia's
virtue nor mine was put in any sort of danger; for all the notice Meyler
took of either of us, was through his opera-glass as he sat in the
Duchess of Beaufort's box.
Considering that by this time Meyler really disliked me, I began to
sympathise with him in his feelings; and, having determined to cut him
wherever we might hereafter meet, I amused myself with talking to half
the gay world, careless of everything but time present.
Julia, having paid Amy a visit in her box, and mentioned to her that I
thought Meyler very beautiful, Amy immediately despatched the first man
she could find of his acquaintance, to invite him to her supper after
the Opera.
I declared to Julia, if that was the case, I would not go to Amy's, as I
had taken a disgust at the idea of meeting Mr. Meyler: and I retired to
bed immediately on leaving the theatre.
I passed much of my time in scribbling every little event which
occurred, to Worcester, and the rest, mostly with Fanny and Julia,
having changed my residence to one which was within a few doors of
Julia's.
Meyler, as Amy afterwards informed us, did not attend to her invitation.