The Shadow of Tyburn Tree (6 page)

There seemed no alternative but for him to swallow the bitter pill and resign himself to the triumph of his rival, of whose appearance on the scene he had had so little warning. The only question now remaining was, would the beautiful Georgina present him with a pair of horns over the week-end, or not?

Left to her own inclinations he felt sure that, out of consideration for him, she would refrain. But he had no means of judging how pressing was Fox's need of Vorontzoff's co-operation, and feared that if it was urgent, since Georgina obviously regarded herself as perfectly free, she might precipitate matters on that account.

Roger was a typical product of his age. He was bold, resourceful, and, while setting a high value on his personal honour, could be quite unscrupulous in serving what he considered to be justifiable ends. He had developed into a man of the world while still in his teens, and his excellent education in the classics, coupled with his personal experience of eighteenth-century life, had led him to regard all sex-relationships with detached cynicism. Yet, in addition to his dark blue eyes, he had inherited from his Highland mother a romantic streak, and it was this which entered into his long relationship with Georgina.

Had she been any other woman he would either have let her go with a shrug or wept, prayed, cursed and threatened suicide in a desperate endeavour to keep her faithful. But, for him, Georgina was neither a light-of-love nor a grand passion. She was something apart which had grown up with him out of his boyhood, and while he was now quite prepared to kiss and leave her for a season, all his romantic feelings cried out against
their parting being marred by her being unfaithful to him before he had even left the house.

Again he glanced uncertainly at the boudoir-door. If he told her that it would really hurt him he knew that she would place his feelings before all else. But he suddenly realised that he had left it too late. Her maid, Jenny, would be with her by this time, helping her to dress, and as Jenny had to clear up afterwards she would not leave the room again until after her mistress had gone down to dinner. Georgina had no secrets from Jenny, but this was not a matter that could be discussed before a maid.

Taking off his frilled shirt he slowly began to change; his sense of injury and frustration steadily mounting while he dressed. As the Daniel Quare clock on the marble mantelpiece of his room chimed four o'clock, powdered, pomaded and most elegantly clad in a suit of lavender blue silk, he went downstairs; now obsessed with a cold, angry determination to resort to desperate measures to spike the Russian's guns.

Although the usual hour for dinner among the gentry of England was still four o'clock, a tendency had already started in the fashionable world to dine somewhat later, and Georgina had recently put the meal on to half-past; so Roger had ample time to prepare the scheme that he had hatched while dressing, for the discomfiture of the Russian Ambassador.

Going into the big drawing-room that was always used when Georgina had company, he opened a walnut bureau in which, he knew, a morocco-leather case was kept containing a special set of cards for playing Pharo. It held six packs, all having the same backs, but no cards of a lesser value than the tens. Four of the packs, making eighty cards in all, were used in play; the other two packs were spares for the lay out. From the latter he removed two Aces, two Kings and two Queens, which he secreted about his person, placing the Aces and Kings under his cuffs and the Queens in an inside pocket of his coat which was low down on a level with his left hip.

It was a foregone conclusion that in a party such as this there would be cards after dinner, for those who wished to play, and an almost equal certainty that the game chosen would be Pharo, as that was both fashionable and Georgina's favourite gamble. Roger had never cheated at cards in his life, but he meant to do so on this occasion, for a particular purpose, and about his intention he did not feel the least scruple,

For some ten minutes he remained alone, standing straddle-legged in front of the big log-fire, then Colonel Thursby joined him and shortly afterwards the other guests began to trickle down. Georgina arrived last, with a flutter of entirely insincere apologies to the other ladies, for she dearly loved to make an entrance, and had never been known to appear for dinner until the whole company was assembled.

She was dressed to-night entirely in white, her full bare shoulders rising like those of some dark Venus from a sea of thin silk; but, splendid as she looked, Roger thought that certain colours suited her voluptuous beauty better. To himself
he hazarded a guess that she had selected this virginal costume to intrigue the sophisticated Russian.

Immediately on Georgina's arrival, the butler threw open the double doors and announced that Her Ladyship was served; upon which, they went in to dinner.

Colonel Thursby, as host, gave his arm to Lady Amelia, and Count Vorontzoff followed with Mrs. Armistead. Droopy Ned then bowed to Mr. Fox, who in turned bowed to George Selwyn as the eldest among them, but having returned the bow, he stepped back a pace, insisting that the younger son of the Marquis of Amesbury was the proper person to lead in the unattached males. Georgina then brought up the rear with her principal guest, the ponderous Duke.

Nearly everyone at the table had been brought up to regard good talk as of as much importance as good clothes. From their youth they had cultivated repartee as an art, and quite naturally vied with each other in capping one another's sallies. In deference to Vorontzoff much of the conversation was in French, but even had he not been there French expressions would have found frequent utterance, as it was considered fashionable to use them; and Latin tags were bandied about without the least suggestion of priggishness, since everyone present knew their meaning.

For the best part of two hours oysters, lobsters, trout, salmon, a sucking pig, a saddle of lamb, capons, ducks, pies pasties, meringues, jellies and hot-house fruit, were devastated by the gargantuan appeties with which a life-time of habit had equipped the men and women of those times; each item being washed down with a glass of Chablis, Rhenish, Sillery, Claret or Champagne. At length Georgina caught Lady Amelia's eye, upon which the ladies left the men to belch at their ease and settle down to a little really serious drinking.

Fox was soon launched on a series of bawdy stories that set the table in a roar; Selwyn, Vorontzoff, Droopy Ned and Roger all contributed a few. Colonel Thursby, like a good host, kept the port circulating, and encouraged them with a quip here and there. Only the lugubrious Duke remained silent. He seemed to have neither humour nor humanity, but possibly he was moderately contented in his own queer way; as, immediately the ladies left the room he had fetched a long churchwarden pipe, and ever since he had been puffing at it like a suction engine, so that he was now surrounded by a cloud of smoke as dense as that issuing from one of his new factory chimneys. The others had given up all attempts to draw him into their merriment, and for them laughter and jest
caused three-quarters of an hour to vanish in what seemed only the twinkling of an eye.

During the gale of mirth that followed some witty French verses with which Droopy Ned had delighted the company, Vorontzoff stood up, and, bowing slightly to Colonel Thursby, left the room by its main door, which gave on to the hall. The Colonel had already turned his attention to Selwyn, who had just started on some equally amusing couplets, so he caught Roger's eye and made a faint sign to him.

Roger guessed at once what was in the Colonel's mind. Through another door, at the opposite end of the room, one of those new innovations, a water-closet, had been installed, and they had all used it within the past hour, so it could not be for that reason that the Ambassador had left them. The Colonel feared that he might be feeling ill, and since he could not without rudeness break away from Selwyn, he wished Roger, as the guest who was best acquainted with the house, to follow Vorontzoff and ascertain what ailed him.

Getting to his feet, Roger hurried after the Russian, and caught up with him on the far side of the hall. With a quick bow he said politely: ‘Colonel Thursby sent me after your Excellency to inquire your reason for leaving us. I trust that you are not indisposed?'

The Ambassador smiled, and replied with equal courtesy: ‘Why, no, I thank you. But in the country from which I come a lady occupies the throne. With us, too, the men like to sit over their wine after dinner, but my Imperial mistress is apt to become a trifle bored if left too long in the company of her women. So it has become customary for one of us to leave our companions and place ourselves at her disposal. 'Tis a pleasant courtesy, I think, and in pursuance of it I am about to seek the Lady Georgina.'

‘Indeed!' said Roger, stiffly. ‘In that case pray do not let me detain your Excellency.'

Whether the Russian was telling the truth or had just thought up the story, he had no idea; but to leave one's host prematurely for the purpose of getting in first with the ladies, was according to English standards, an abominable piece of rudeness. As Roger bowed again and turned away, he realised to his chagrin that by this skilful move Vorontzoff had secured himself a good hour, in virtually a free field, to develop his pursuit of Georgina. However, there seemed no way in which he could have prevented it, and, angrily consigning all foreigners to the devil, he went back to the dining-room.

During his short absence the atmosphere had undergone a sudden change and they were now talking politics. In his
languid voice Droopy Ned was putting an extremely able advocacy of Pitt's contention that the East India Company, and not the nation, was liable for the cost of the transport of four additional regiments of troops that had been sent out to India during the war-scare of the previous summer.

The question had recently been fought most bitterly in the House; not so much on its own account but as a fresh battleground on which to deploy those divergent views about the reconstruction of the Government of India, which had occupied so much of Parliament's time in the past few years.

With grandiloquent gestures and melodious voice Fox reiterated several of the most telling arguments that he had employed against the Government; but he failed to shake the stooping, short-sighted young nobleman, and at length he said good-humorously: ‘When may we welcome you to a seat in the House, my Lord? 'Tis the natural habitat of the younger sons of peers, as witness both Mr. Pitt and myself. Your logic and tenacity would do you credit there.'

‘I vow you flatter me, Sir.' Droopy bowed across the table. ‘But even were I competent to play such a part, I should be loath to sacrifice the pursuits that already occupy a great part of my time.'

‘And what may they be?' inquired the Duke, suddenly emerging from his long silence.

‘I, er—experiment on myself with rare drugs, and collect antique jewellery.'

‘Antiques, eh!' the Duke grunted. ‘Waste of time and money. When I was taken to Rome as a young man my fool of a tutor argued me into buying some marbles. Feller called Wood, I remember. They're still in their packing-cases somewhere. I've never had time to open the damn things, and don't suppose I ever shall.'

Droopy raised his quizzing glass and remarked a trifle acidly: ‘Among such marbles 'tis a fair bet that there are certain of the Roman gods. Since your Grace has elected to keep them hidden from mortal eyes for some thirty years, 'tis clear that you can have little sympathy with my third interest—the study of ancient religions.'

‘No, none whatever,' replied the Duke, with the bluntness of a Dr. Johnson; to whom in fact some people considered that he had a certain resemblance. ‘Not only are such studies futile, but they may even become dangerous; for all Pagan religions were the invention of the Devil.'

Roger had not been taking much interest in the conversation, as his mind was on Vorontzoff and Georgina; and he was wondering if by this time the Russian had managed to separate
her from the other two ladies on some pretext, such as showing him her collection of silver toys, in the far drawing-room, so that he could whisper sweet nothings to her at his leisure. But he now came to the rescue of his friend, by saying:

‘Surely your Grace would not lump the religion of the Greeks and Romans with the Devil-worship of more primitive peoples?'

‘Sir, I would indeed!' came the prompt response. ‘For the former developed directly from the latter.'

‘Permit me to disagree,' declared Droopy quickly. ‘And I have spent much time investigating the origins of both.'

‘If the rituals of Satanism interest you, my Lord, you should consult George Selwyn on that subject,' Fox cut in with a laugh. ‘Ask him to tell you how he once raised the Devil.'

All eyes were immediately turned on the benign, bishop-like face of the elderly wit, who said with rueful smile: ‘It seems that I shall never live down my association with the Hell-Fire Club, although 'tis so long ago. Its heyday was in the late ‘50s, and in ‘62, the year that Dashwood both succeeded to his Barony and became Chancellor of the Exchequer, 'twas disbanded. That is before some of you were born, so I pray you let it rest.'

‘Nay, nay!' cried Colonel Thursby. ‘Everyone knows that you were a leading member of it, and I've often meant to inquire of you what really went on there. Tell us, I beg?'

Except by the Duke, who had retired once more into his smoke screen, Selwyn was pressed on all sides, so after a moment, he said:

‘Since you insist, I'll give you the gist of it. The idea originated with Sir Francis Dashwood one night at White's. My Lord Sandwich, Charles Churchill,. Bubb-Doddington, Paul Whitehead, Robert Lloyd and myself, were other moving spirits in the affair. We had all become
un peu blasé
with the easy favours of society women and the ladies of the Italian Opera, so we were seeking a new outlet for our amorous propensities. Dashwood urged the claims of a masquerade with its dual attraction of dressing-up and the amusement of laying siege to an unknown partner. He proposed that we should form a new order of St. Francis, but differing from the old in that Venus should be the object of our worship; and that the rites and ceremonies to be performed should culminate in a Bacchic orgy.