Escapade, page 24
‘Don’t be. Without it, you would be different. I like you the way you are. Like you! Love you. Beth —’
‘Yes?’
‘Would you very much mind a Catholic ceremony, just to be going on with? It’s the only kind I seem to be able to lay my hands on, here in Palermo.’
‘Catholic? What do you mean, ceremony?’
‘I am asking you to marry me, dear fool. What did you think I meant?’
‘Not that. Oh, Nathan, not that.’ She was crying now, but did not mind.
‘I can see you know nothing about us New Englanders,’ he told her. ‘It’s marriage or nothing, dear Beth, and nothing till marriage either. Mind you,’ he tilted her chin to look down at her lovingly, ‘whether you will be able to bear life in New Bedford is something else again. I am not absolutely sure that I can. I thought, if you agreed, we might give it a try, making my old mamma very happy by doing so, then what do you think of Louisiana, my life? Do you know about Louisiana?’
‘Of course I do.’ The warm shock of his proposal of marriage was running through her veins. ‘You Yankees bought it from Napoleon.’
‘And now we are wondering what to do with it. I have been offered a kind of a job there. I think we might like it, you and I. And there will be a theatre there, if I know the French.’
‘Which is more than you can say for New Bedford?’
‘I’m afraid so,’ ruefully. Will you be a fish out of water for me, dearest Beth?’
‘I’ll be anything for you,’ she said.
‘Even a mother?’
‘Oh, Nathan!’ Now he had struck her to the heart. ‘I don’t know… I’ve never… I shouldn’t… ’
‘Nonsense. It is going to be quite different with me. And here I think is Maria to make you respectable.’
‘Dear Nathan, it is you who are going to make me respectable.’
‘As if I could! As if I wanted to!’
Maria had brought her own wedding dress. ‘It’s the only thing I have that’s white, and might fit the signora,’ she explained. ‘I was young and slender then. I saved it for my daughter, but all I have is sons, heaven help me. You must keep it, signora; may it be lucky for you.’ Her bright eyes went from one to the other. ‘I think it is, already.’
‘It is indeed,’ said Nathan. ‘Take the signora to my room, Maria, and help her dress.’ There was a knocking at the door below. ‘I’ll get that. Don’t come down till I tell you, Beth.’
He opened the big door cautiously, just a crack. ‘Oh, it’s you,’ with relief. ‘Come in, quick, Forde. What’s happening out there?’
‘Mayhem.’ Shaking the rain out of his coat. ‘The crowd’s out for blood. English blood. You’re an American, safe enough, but frankly I want to get out of here. There’s a ship just docked. Peabody, we’ve not always seen eye to eye, but as one man to another… ’ He paused, searching for words, and Peabody watched him quizzically. ‘I’m done for, rolled up,’ Forde went on in a rush. ‘I thought I’d remake my fortune coming here to Sicily, but it’s not worked out like that. I’m desperate. Peabody, will you lend me the passage money?’
‘What’s the ship?’
‘An English merchantman with supplies for the troops. She is going on to Messina, then to Malta. She leaves in the morning, if the wind holds. Peabody, I beg of you!’
‘She didn’t bring Lord William back?’
‘No, only letters. Peabody, please — The crowd’s ugly out there. God knows what’s going to happen.’
‘And the ladies?’ Peabody went on with his relentless questions. ‘What about Miss Prior and Miss Pennam?’
‘They will be safe enough. They are royally protected, after all.’
‘Is there news of the Queen?’
‘None that I have heard of, but everyone knows about the King’s fancy for Beth Prior. One way or another, she is sure of protection.’
‘What a shabby fellow you are, Forde.’ Peabody went to his desk. ‘But I’m grateful for the news you have brought. How much do you need?’ And then, ‘But one thing first. I need a note taken to Miss Prior and Miss Pennam, something I cannot trust to a servant. Do that for me, Forde, come back here, and you shall have the money.’ And then, aware of the other man’s reluctance, ‘No need to see them, just make sure one of them gets the note, bring me back an answer, and the money is yours.’ He was writing quickly, reached for taper and wax, sealed the note and handed it Forde. ‘There. Don’t stand around thanking me, you’ve not got the money yet.’
Opening the door as little as possible to let Forde out, he saw crowds still milling about in the Great Street. The rain had stopped as suddenly as it had started and people who had expected a day of merrymaking were reluctant to go home. Presently the fountains were supposed to start running wine, in honour of the saint, and what would happen, either if they did or if they did not, was anybody’s guess.
He went half way up to the next floor. ‘Beth, are you ready?’
‘Yes, who was that?’ She came down to him, splendid in heavy white silk that had turned ivory with age. ‘Did you know Maria’s father kept silkworms?’
‘My darling, you are blushing!’
‘Yes, isn’t it strange? I thought I had outgrown that years ago. What are you doing to me, Nathan?’
‘What are we doing to each other?’ Smiling. ‘How happy I am. And that was Forde, my love, with good news. There’s an English ship in harbour, bound for Messina and Malta, and you and I, and Charlotte and Thornton are all going to be on her when she leaves.’
‘And Forde?’ she asked. ‘What an interesting party we shall make.’
‘Yes. He came to borrow the fare, not to enquire after you as I thought. I’ve sent him with a note to Charlotte, asking her and Thornton to join us here. What’s the matter?’
Will you be safe on a British ship? Suppose our countries are at war?’
‘Safer there than here, I think. And I’ll suppose no such thing. If need be, we will go ashore at Malta, you and I. An old married couple, we will be by then. Better a British ship’s captain than a Sicilian priest, don’t you think? You won’t mind doing it so in hugger-mugger?’
‘Mind?’ Her smile said the rest. ‘And, look, I’m dressed for it already.’
‘So you are. There’s an omen for you! Now, stay close, love, to receive Charlotte and Thornton, while I find Fagan and arrange our passages.’
‘Be careful!’
‘Believe me, I will. Strange how happiness makes one cautious. I value myself now.’
‘And so you should. But I think you always did, Nathan. It’s one of the things I have liked about you.’
‘Liked?’
She smiled. ‘Loved, Nathan.’
* * *
‘Oh, thank God she’s safe.’ Charlotte’s hands had trembled as she broke the seal of Peabody’s note. ‘At Peabody’s. You were right, John. He wants us to go there, on foot, with just what we can carry. There’s a ship come in; we are going to board her tonight, under cover of the promenade on the Marino. The crowd’s still ugly, he says.’
‘It certainly is.’ Forde had delivered the note in person, was watching her and Thornton with interest. ‘I’d waste no time, if I were you; there’s a kind of afternoon hush at the moment, but it won’t last. I promised Peabody I’d take him your answer. Would you write him a line, Miss Pennam, to say you are coming?’
‘Write? Can’t you just tell him?’
‘If you wouldn’t mind —’ Embarrassed. ‘And, quickly, Miss Pennam, if you please. I mean to be on board too, and I have all my arrangements to make.’
‘Yes, of course.’ She was still puzzled. ‘It’s good of you to have come, Mr. Forde, when you must have so much to do.’
‘Just write the note, Charlotte,’ said Thornton, who had been watching Forde. ‘We are going to be busy too.’
‘Yes.’ She retired to her writing desk.
Forde followed her with his eyes, then turned to Thornton. ‘Well,’ he said. ‘Am I to congratulate you, Thornton?’
‘If you like,’ said Thornton.
* * *
The air was cooling and the light beginning to fade when Charlotte and John Thornton were ready to leave, so that it was possible to put on cloaks, as if for the promenade on the Marino. The crowd was still surging about, rather aimlessly now, a prey to rumour and counter-rumour.
‘I suppose they are waiting for the fountains to start spouting wine,’ said Charlotte.
‘Then we had better walk faster,’ said Thornton.
‘You keep saying that,’ with a loving, teasing glance. ‘Are you going to bully me, John Thornton?’
‘As if I would dare.’
They found Beth alone. ‘Nathan went to find Fagan and arrange our passages,’ she explained. ‘I wish he’d come back. It’s been ages.’
‘Nathan?’ asked Charlotte. And then, ‘Beth, what in the world are you wearing?’
‘Maria’s wedding dress.’ She smiled at them. ‘And mine, I hope.’
‘Oh, Beth.’ Charlotte went into her arms. ‘I am so happy for you! And you are to be glad for us.’
‘I thought so!’ Kissing her warmly. ‘What a happy ship’s. company we are going to be!’
‘If they will take us,’ said John Thornton. ‘And if we can get to the docks.’ He had been looking out of the window. ‘The crowd is getting noisier. I wish Peabody would come back.’
‘He will,’ said Beth.
But it was dark, and even she was growing anxious when Peabody returned at last. ‘It took some arranging,’ he told them. ‘But arranged it is, and the sooner we leave the better.’
‘Splendid,’ said John Thornton. ‘But first, Peabody, I am to congratulate you, with all my heart, and you are to rejoice with Charlotte and me.’
There was a great deal of indiscriminate kissing, and then Peabody dragooned them ruthlessly downstairs and out to the carriage that stood ready. ‘We are all crowding in to one,’ he told them. ‘For peace of mind. My man is looking to the baggage, such as it is.’
‘Who cares about things?’ said Beth.
Their carriage pulled out into the stream that was headed towards the Porta Felice and the Marino. ‘How strange to think it is the last time,’ said Beth.
‘Don’t even think it,’ Peabody told her. ‘It might show. We are a party of pleasure, nothing else.’
‘I am your obedient stone,’ she told him, and got a loving laugh from Charlotte.
‘Oh, Beth.’ She found and squeezed her hand. ‘How happy we are.’
‘Don’t be happy yet,’ said Peabody. ‘I’m superstitious.’
‘Not you,’ said Beth.
But they were all quiet as the carriage passed through the Porta Felice and turned towards the docks instead of the Marino. This was the moment of danger. This was the crisis.
Nothing happened. Nobody noticed. Back on the Marino, the fountains had begun to run red with wine, and the crowd was entirely taken up with that.
A small boat was waiting at the quayside. ‘Mr. Peabody and party?’ asked the man in charge. ‘In with you. No time to lose. We sail tonight.’
‘Tonight!’ exclaimed Peabody. ‘I thought it was not till the morning.’
‘Cap’n says tonight. I reckon cap’n has his reasons. The lady had a hard enough time making him stay for you.’
‘Lady?’ asked Beth, but her voice was drowned by Peabody’s. ‘I hope Forde makes it,’ he said.
The water of the bay was phosphorescent, gleaming under the men’s oars. Soon the moon would rise. Back at the Marino, a first firework went up.
‘The fountains must be running wine,’ said John Thornton. The ship loomed huge above them. A bosun’s chair came down.
‘What ship is she?’ asked Beth, getting in.
‘The Wilberforce, ma’am, from Hull,’ said the seaman who was helping her.
Beth heard Charlotte’s gasp as she was winched into the air. Landing on the well-scrubbed deck, she was not even surprised to find Kathryn Comyn, anxiously awaiting her.
‘Kathryn!’ They went into each other’s arms, but she knew, as she always had, what her friend was thinking. ‘It’s all right. She’s coming. She’ll be next.’
‘Thank God. Beth, was I right to come?’
‘It’s the best thing you ever did, love.’
She stood back to watch as Charlotte was dumped on the deck, looked about her, saw her mother. ‘Mother!’ They were in each other’s arms.
‘Well, there’s a happy ending.’ Nathan Peabody had swarmed up the ship’s side and crossed the deck to put his arm around Beth. ‘Let’s leave them to greet Thornton, love, and go find the captain. I mean to be a happily married man before we reach Messina.’
Postcript
Queen Maria Carolina did recover from her seizure in September, 1811, and Bentinck did return that winter with the full powers he wanted. But even the arrest of Cassetti did not provide him with hard evidence on which to act against the Queen. They carried on an acrimonious battle of wits and wills until 1813, when he first exiled her to southern Sicily, then banished her to Vienna. Since war still raged in the Mediterranean, it took her almost a year to get there, by way of Zante, Istanbul and Odessa. Greeted as a heroine by the Polish princes of the Ukraine, she reached Vienna at last in February 1814 to a cool reception from her nephew, the Emperor, who was busy with the end of the long war against Napoleon. Rusticated to a palace near Schonbrunn, she made friends with her granddaughter Marie Louise, and urged her to join Napoleon on Elba when he was sent there that spring. Ferdinand, planning to go back in triumph to Naples, sent for her to come home, but she had another, fatal stroke in September. Whereupon her husband married his mistress and finally returned to the throne of Naples after Waterloo, having, naturally, learned nothing and forgotten nothing.
If you enjoyed Escapade you might be interested in Runaway Bride by Jane Aiken Hodge, also published by Endeavour Press.
Extract from Runaway Bride by Jane Aiken Hodge
CHAPTER I
‘Mark my words, George, you must marry—and quickly.’ The Duchess hitched up her auburn wig which had, as usual, slid down over one bejewelled ear.
‘I fear you are right, ma’am,’ said her grandson gloomily as he bent down to offer her his enamelled snuff-box. The Honourable George Ferris—or, to give him his baptismal due, George Frederick William Edward Ernest Augustus Adolphus Ferris—was having a bad half-hour with his grandmother. According to his friends at Brooks’ Club there were only two people in the world that this formidable young man feared: one was the Duke of Wellington, the other, the Duchess of Lewes. Friend of Dr Johnson and confidante of Fox, she was indeed a grandmother to make a man tremble, particularly as he himself was set on a political career. It was she, of course, who had insisted on his being named after all the deplorable Royal Dukes, sons of George III, and had browbeaten them into resolving their differences for long enough to stand godfathers together at his christening. It was not, as she frequently pointed out, her fault that his royal godfathers had in fact done so little to advance his career.
The younger son of a duke’s spendthrift heir, George Ferris had his own way to make in the world. While his older brother made the Grand Tour as best he might in the intervals of the long war with France, George had been given his father’s unenthusiastic blessing, a small and spasmodic allowance, and introductions to Beau Brummell and Brooks’ Club. Luckily for him, his erratic old grandfather the Duke had finally gone mad in Trafalgar year and the Duchess had lost no time in immuring her husband in one of his smaller and more remote castles and taking control of his fortune. One of her first actions had been to buy a commission in the Blues for George, whom she much preferred to his dissolute elder brother.
George had thanked her warmly, packed his few possessions and joined his regiment in the Peninsula. Handsome in a blue-eyed, black-browed, frowning way; short-tempered, daredevil, a judge of horses and men, he had soon made his mark in the field and had been rebuked by the Duke himself for putting up his umbrella to keep off the rain while waiting to charge at Salamanca. Once noticed, he was not easily forgotten. Soon afterwards, he was taken on to the Duke’s staff where he distinguished himself by capturing an Eagle in the intervals of carrying despatches at Waterloo.
With peace at last secure, the army’s attractions had dwindled. He had sold out and persuaded his father to send him to Parliament as member for the family’s pocket borough of Cuckhaven. Once admitted to the House he had delighted that staunch old Whig his grandmother by the point and ferocity of his attacks on the Government, and was already being talked of as a rival to the colourless Ponsonby for the leadership of the Party.
‘But depend upon it, George,’ continued his astute grandmamma, taking a pinch of snuff and sneezing with gusto, ‘Bachelor’s chambers are a damned awkward rallying ground for a coterie. A political leader must have a house, and a house must have a mistress. With the right wife, you can put them all in the shade. Marry now, marry well and, above all, marry richly and who knows where you may find yourself when the King finally dies and Prinny’s friends come into their own at last. There’s not a leader among them: Ponsonby, Tierney...bah, you’re worth six of them. But marry, George, only marry...’
He looked down at her ruefully. ‘You’re mighty insistent, ma’am.’
‘I am mighty correct.’ The fierce old eyes softened as they gazed up at him. ‘George, it cannot be that you still wear the willow for that Ponsonby chit?’
He drew himself up and for a moment his eyes flashed, fierce as hers: ‘Lady Caroline Lamb will always have my heart.’
The old lady sighed. ‘To add to her collection? Or to offer, among other things, to Lord Byron? No, no,’ she put a delicate restraining hand on his arm, ‘I’ll not tease you, George, but if you have no heart to give, you still have a hand, and there’s many an heiress will take it, and glad to. What do you think of one of the Markham girls?’
‘As little as I can, ma’am, I assure you. Now spare me, I beg, the catalogue of this year’s possible misses, for I have a mind that if marry I must it shall be a girl of my own choosing.’
