Lady Lavinia's Match. Mary Nichols

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       Chapter Three

      ‘“I do entreat your grace to pardon me,”’ murmured Lavinia to herself, consulting the text in the small book she carried. ‘“I know not by what power I am made bold—”’ She stopped suddenly, jostled by a passer-by, who did not stay to apologise.

      ‘My lady,’ Daisy entreated her fearfully, ‘I do think you should put that book away and hurry home. I have never seen such crowds.’

      Lavinia had been so absorbed in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, one of several copies she had just bought at a shop in Oxford Street, she had not noticed the press of people in the street, all coming towards them. They were shouting, ‘Hurrah! God bless the Queen!’, running alongside an open landau, filling the road and the pavement.

      Lavinia stopped to stare, knowing she was looking at the Queen and experiencing at first hand the adulation in which she appeared to be held. Her Majesty was stockily built and dressed in mourning for the late king, who had been her uncle as well as her father-in-law, but what surprised Lavinia more than anything was the huge black wig whose long curls hung each side of her rouged cheeks and the thickly painted black eyebrows which made her large head look even bigger. She was accompanied by the Lord Mayor, Alderman Wood, and Lady Anne Hamilton, her lady-in-waiting.

      The carriage was going at little more than walking pace, but its chief occupant was revelling in the adoration, smiling and bowing first to one side and then the other, while from the houses and shops of Oxford Street more and more people emerged to add to the crowds, many of whom waved white ribbons or wore white cockades and shouted, ‘The Queen! The Queen! Long live the Queen!’

      Lavinia and her maid, with Tom Bagshott walking a few paces behind them carrying the other books, were intent on going in the opposite direction, but it was impossible to force a way through the throng and they found themselves being pushed willy-nilly along with everyone else. It was like a great tidal wave, carrying all before it. Lavinia heard Daisy cry out behind her but she could not see the little maid, nor the tall figure of the groom, because she could not go back or even turn round.

      She dropped her book, her hat came off and then a shoe and, as she hobbled along, pressed in on all sides, she began to wonder how much further she could go without falling down. And that she must not do, for it would mean being trampled to death. The whole procession had reached the corner of Portman Street and she was limping badly when she was suddenly grabbed from behind and held in two powerful arms.

      ‘Let me go!’ she shouted, wriggling to try to free herself. Her hair escaped its pins and cascaded round her shoulders and over her eyes, so that she could not see properly. ‘Let go of me at once!’

      ‘I fear, my lady, that if I do you will be knocked down and be trampled on,’ said a quiet voice which she instantly recognised as that of Lord Wincote.

      Still held in his arms, she squirmed round to face him, while the multitude followed the carriage into Portman Street, which relieved the press of bodies about her, though he did not release her. ‘My lord!’

      He lifted a hand from around her waist to brush her hair out of her eyes. She gazed up at him, so overwhelmed with relief that she did not notice that his fingers still stroked her temple and that his other hand was still firmly around her waist. His dark eyes were searching hers, making her feel weaker than ever. If he released her, she felt sure her legs would not support her and she would crumple to the ground. ‘My lady, are you all right?’

      ‘Yes, yes, now that you are here,’ she said, pulling away from him at last and endeavouring to push her hair behind her ears and replace a few of the pins. ‘I thank you for your timely intervention.’

      ‘It was my privilege, my lady, but tell me, what were you thinking of to come out alone on such a day?’

      ‘I was not alone. I had my maid with me and a groom, but I lost them in the mêlée.’ She looked back, searching for a sight of them in the sea of heads. ‘I was carried along, quite unable to make headway, and had to go with the crowd. I had no idea it would be like this.’

      ‘I advise you to avoid going out on foot while the Queen is in Town.’

      ‘And how long will that be, do you suppose? I do not like the idea of being confined to the house by a mob.’

      ‘You need not be. I will be pleased to escort you, whenever you wish to go out. In the meantime, I will see you safe home.’

      ‘Thank you.’ She took off her other shoe and carried it, as they began walking back down Oxford Street, quieter now, with everyone resuming whatever it was they had been doing before the Queen passed. ‘But I must find Daisy and Tom.’

      ‘I do not doubt they will find their own way home, my lady. I think you need to be safe indoors before anyone of consequence sees you.’

      She laughed. ‘Yes, I must look a mess.’

      ‘Not a mess in my eyes, my lady, only delightfully unruly, but perhaps others might see the matter differently. Is the Duke at home? Or the Duchess?’

      ‘No. Papa has gone to another of those interminable meetings to try to resolve the problem of the Queen, and Stepmama has gone to the orphanage, which was why I could not have the carriage.’

      ‘Perhaps it is as well. You will be able to change and tidy your hair before anyone sees you and then, with your permission, I will return this afternoon to make sure you are none the worse for your little adventure.’

      ‘Thank you. You are very kind. I must be causing you great inconvenience.’

      ‘Not at all.’

      They were just turning into the end of St James’s Square when they were spotted by James, arriving on horseback to call on her. He leapt from the stallion and strode to intercept them, his expression furious. ‘Vinny, whatever has happened to you?’ And then, without waiting for an answer, turned to Edmund. ‘Wincote, if you have harmed a hair of her head, by God, you will have me to answer to.’

      ‘James, do not be such a gudgeon,’ Lavinia said, putting a restraining hand on his arm. ‘Lord Wincote has just rescued me from being trampled to death by a mob and I am very grateful to him.’

      ‘Oh.’ James was only slightly mollified. The sight of Lavinia with her hair all over the place, her dress and stockings torn, with her shoe in her hand, accompanied by a man he did not trust, had frightened him half to death and his immediate reaction had been that Wincote had compromised her, if not actually molested her. It was not easy to change that image of the man instantly into one of knight errant. ‘What happened?’ he demanded. ‘Why were you out unchaperoned?’

      ‘I was not. I had Daisy and Tom Bagshott with me, but we were separated. I was carried along by the mob; if Lord Wincote had not arrived when he did, I do not know what might have happened.’

      ‘If that is the case, I beg your pardon, Wincote.’ He turned his mount to shield her from the gaze of the bystanders who were showing more than a little curiosity at the scene being played out before them, and began to escort her towards her home, leading the horse.

      ‘Granted,’ Edmund СКАЧАТЬ