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Authors: Jude Morgan

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‘Yes

and you skipped off somewhere to see your wretched ruins.’

‘Quite right, and quite apposite, as one of the ruins I went to see was a lady well known to you. Sorry, one shouldn’t speak ill of the lately deceased, and no, she was really, I thought, rather well preserved. I refer to your former employer and, I would guess, tormentor, Mrs Sophia Catling of Brighton.
That
was my purpose in going down to the south coast. I do hate to flatter you, Miss Fortune, which is why I never do

but the fact is, I could not believe what Leabrook had said about you, and so I resolved to go and call on this Mrs Catling, and see if I could find out the truth from her.’

‘The devil you did!’ Caroline sat back, open-mouthed. ‘You

going to see Mrs Catling! I’m just trying to imagine it.’

‘All my grace, elegance, and beauty contrasting with that crabbed monstrosity, I know. Well, as I say, she wasn’t quite what I had thought her

and yet once she began speaking, she was, if you see what I mean. Really I think you did well to tolerate her at all

though I fancy this heart-stroke you tell me about was not as sudden as her lawyer made out, for she was not in health when I saw her. That was partly why she did not grant me a long interview — the other reason being that I was, let’s see if I can remember her honeyed words, an insolent puppy to come quizzing her about that underbred chit of whom she could recall only so much as to confirm in her mind that she was well rid.’

‘Now I know you have seen Mrs Catling. Oh, Stephen, I am sorry.’

‘Don’t be, it’s no fault of yours. Take another glass of this. Quite refreshing to be called a puppy: better than being taken for Fanny’s father anyhow. Well, I tried servility, and that didn’t answer, so

well, I had the measure of my enemy now, and I blustered about our ancient name and sprawling acres and
then
I saw her looking at me a little differently. Only a little, mind: insufficient ancientness and too few acres truly to impress. But she listened. And then she laughed.
Not
a pleasant sound,’ he said wincing reminiscently ‘The said Mr Leabrook of Northamptonshire, she asserted, was a man of impeccable taste and manners, and would certainly not so demean himself; and as for you, Mrs Catling said she was too careful an employer to allow any kind of amorous goings-on. The reason she dismissed you, she said, was that you were wilful and impertinent and set upon going absent without leave

yes, that was her military phrase. And so be off with you

to me, I mean. Curious to think someone actually married her, isn’t it? Did he never start up at night, silently screaming at what he had done?’

‘Apparently Colonel Catling was a sort of male edition of her. Stephen, I am sorry again — that she was so rude to you.’

‘Well, I thought I knew all about being rude, but, my Lord
...
Anyhow, off with me I went, more convinced by now that you were entirely in the right, and more suspicious of Leabrook on account of it. And then I had an idea, which — well, let’s just call it genius and leave it at that. I bethought me of Leabrook’s sister — the one at the Brighton boarding-school. I wondered what she could tell me about her brother. So I procured a Brighton trade directory, and then my heart nearly failed, as it appeared there was nothing
but
boarding-schools in that wretched town. Well, the only thing for it was to go knocking at the door of each and every one, asking for Miss Leabrook, and then blandly saying I had got the wrong address whenever I drew a blank. I must confess there was a risk here of appearing disreputable: but I dressed in my best, and generally tried to look sober and sensible.’

‘That’s just what I did, coming down to London alone.’ ‘Ah, I wondered what that odd ring was all about. It’s harder for you to look respectable, of course: no disguising those rogue’s eyes. Close your mouth, my dear Miss Fortune, it’s not elegant. Well, I found the place at last; and as she had certainly heard of me, being brother to Leabrook’s
fiancée,
and as this did establish a family connection, I was able to have a little interview with Miss Leabrook in the proprietress’s parlour. Pleasant, quiet little creature

wouldn’t say boo to a goose. I happened to have a goose with me, and so I was able to test it, and I could not prevail upon her to

yes, I’m sorry. Well, there seemed more constraint about her, when I talked of Leabrook, than was compatible with mere shyness. So I cultivated her. I got the proprietress’s permission to take Miss Leabrook to tea at Dutton’s, and there, after plying her with many pastries and ices, and questioning her as gently as possible

for I
can
be agreeable, you know, when I choose

I got her to talk freely. It did seem odd to me that she so seldom came home, and spent the holidays with friends: now I found out why. She and her brother were not on good terms

though she was still too much in awe of him to make it explicit. It seems that last year she had had a friend at the school: the natural daughter of somebody or other, who was discreetly paying for her education; and so a girl lacking family and protection. And a very pretty girl. Does it sound familiar? Yes, it appears that Leabrook
interested
himself in this girl, in quite an inappropriate way: laughed it off and denied all, when it came out. By which time the girl, much distressed, had got herself moved to another school

and of course Leabrook’s sister had lost her friend. Hence the estrangement. But I could tell that the poor girl was not accustomed to being believed, and she was very fearful lest I relay any of this to her brother.’

‘Dear God!’ exploded Caroline. ‘If I didn’t know better, I would say that all you men are
—’

‘Captain Brunton’s word, yes. Fortunately there are some examples of perfection around, like me, to redress the balance.’

‘Well. I had a strong feeling that I was not the first he had approached in that way

but a schoolfriend of his sister’s!’

‘Unsavoury isn’t it? Well, that settled it for me. The trouble was, I kicked my heels a while, unsure how to proceed. I knew this man must not marry Bella, but the question was how to accomplish that. I could tell her this story at once, and risk her digging her heels in, as girls have been known to do when discouraged from unsuitable men; or hope that that temporary separation would ripen into proper indifference, and become permanent. Then, before I could come to a decision, there arrives Augusta’s letter telling me of Fanny’s mad escapade, and so I had to rush home, pick your brains as you remember, and then rush here. So in a way I’m glad that Leabrook has decided matters by showing his hand like this. And how is Bella? D’you think she would have had him, if Miss Downey had not supervened?’

‘I don’t know: I don’t think she does either. But she is very thankful for her escape.’

‘Well, you are too magnanimous to say that everyone should have listened to you in the first place, so I’ll say it for you.’

‘Thank you. But I would rather never have been right

I mean, how unfair it seems. There’s he with his beauteous bride and her splendid fortune, and

and he’s just going to get away with everything!’

‘Men do tend to

and handsome men tend to more

and rich, well-born, handsome men tend to most of all. Would you really say Miss Downey was beauteous, by the by?’

‘Most people would. And I thought you might judge that for yourself, as she was always throwing herself at your head.’

‘Was she?’ he said, with tremendous puzzlement. ‘I never noticed. But look here, you don’t really believe they’ll be happy do you? Two people who are, at the very least, habituated to deception: I don’t believe that’s a good foundation. I think there’ll be affairs within a twelvemonth. Mark my words, I would say, if I were the kind of intolerable person who says “mark my words”. Look at that, we’ve finished the other bottle. Shall we take a turn in the yard? I need to clear my head before we go on.’

Yes, she needed some air: a little time too, while she took in all he had told her. He let her think while they strolled about the inn-yard. An old carrier in smock and gaiters was unloading his parcels with infinite slowness and care, as if they were relics that might crumble at a touch: a maid was pretending not to notice the whistle of an ostler: a small boy was rolling on the ground in noisy ecstasies with an excited puppy.

‘How precisely did you come away from Wythorpe?’ Stephen asked at last. ‘Did you simply tell Aunt Selina what you were going to do?’

‘Not exactly. I left a note
...
saying I was coming to see you.’

‘Ah! But you didn’t.’

‘No
...
I did think of it. But I wanted to do something for myself, something right and good and

oh, don’t tease. What did you mean about going on?’

‘Oh, I suppose go on to survey the chandler’s house again. If you’d care to lounge alongside me, of course. I’ll let you have half my doorway. I must confess that, after having been so superbly resourceful, I am now somewhat at a stand. The problem is our fugitives are plainly being very careful

and one cannot just force one’s way into a private house demanding to examine the occupants. My hope is that Fanny must come out, at some point, and then

then I pounce. Feel free to find the notion of me pouncing hilarious, by the by’

Caroline was gazing fixedly at the little boy with the puppy.

‘What is it?’ Stephen said. ‘Did you want one of those instead of the kitten? They get huge and unmanageable, you know, and start doing unspeakable things to your leg in company—’

‘Stephen, do be quiet a minute,’ she told him, ‘for I have an idea.’

· · ·

A very young and dispirited costermonger, who was not selling any sprats on the corner of Borough High Street, supplied them with what they needed.

‘I’m not sure as I can bear it myself,’ he said hesitatingly, when they detailed their plan. ‘I’m afraid I might break, you see.’ But when they explained that the person they sought was quite as tender-hearted, and that therefore the experiment would not take long, and when Stephen offered him the equivalent of a month’s sprat-sales for his trouble, he went along with them. More importantly, so did the half-grown mongrel dog he had tied to his barrow.

The dog appeared to think it was all a great game at first, when his master tied him to a bridle-post just outside the tallow-chandler’s shop and then retreated with Caroline and Stephen to a passageway down the street. He yapped excitedly for a while: then lay down with his nose on his paws: then, sensing something amiss in his master’s continued absence, began to howl, desultorily at first, and then with all the anguished soul of his canine being. It was desolate, and loud.

‘This is what I mean,’ the coster murmured in their hiding-place, gnawing his lip. ‘I don’t know as I can bear it. He don’t understand, you see

far as he’s concerned, I’ve gone.’

‘Never fear,’ Stephen assured him, ‘if it doesn’t answer within a minute or two, then just go untie him and we’ll forget it. But

ah!’

The shop-door of
Gerrard
&
Son
had opened, and Fanny Milner stepped out. With a quick glance up and down the street she hurried over, as Caroline had guessed she surely must, to pat and comfort the howling dog.

She was still bent over him, rubbing his ears and crooning that his master was a brute, when she became aware of the three figures surrounding her.

‘Hello, Fanny,’ Stephen said amiably.

Fanny, rising and red-faced, looked from one to the other in gathering outrage.

‘Oh! Oh, I am entrapped! Stephen, how could you

and, Caroline, you, above all how could
you?
And to the coster: ‘I’m afraid I don’t know you
—’

‘No, that’s so, and I ain’t the brute you said I am,’ the coster said, with dignity, gathering his squirming dog into his arms and walking away.

‘A ruse, to be sure,’ Stephen said, very tenderly and deftly securing Fanny’s arm, ‘but really, my dear Fanny, you are so deuced elusive you left us no choice. Why you are so determined not to have your dear brother and your dear friend call upon you I can’t imagine
—’

‘You know very well,’ Fanny said grandly. ‘It is because you wish to drag me back to my dreary imprisonment. But that you will never do, unless you do drag me

which you will not
...’
She glared at her brother, as if he had confused her. ‘Stephen, I am free, and I am happy. Can you not understand that? Caro

surely
you
can?’

‘I would be very glad to know that you are free and happy, Fanny,’ Caroline said, with a feeling of crossing stepping-stones. ‘And because you are so dear to me, I really would like to be absolutely sure of it.’

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