You Don't Live Like I Do

Beaufoyle Beaufoyle, Duke of Mulcaster – Biffle to his family and close friends – had a particular fondness for his hoyden daughter Bella. Even did it fret him somewhat that she so closely resembled the portrait of that scandalous ancestress of theirs – in the days of the Mad King had played high – driven her own phaeton and even raced it – not merely had duels fought over her favours but was rumoured had fought a duel herself with some rival – horsewhipped a fellow that had published a satire upon her –

That had not been so outrageous as for her to be ostracized from Society, sure manners had been a deal different in those days, she had perchance been somewhat wilder than most, but unlike many ladies of that time, had never brought a cuckoo-child to the marital nest.

But times had changed! Here was Her Majesty setting an example of domesticity and moral family life. Indeed such a life was an excellent thing! Biffle himself had been very happily married to his second wife these many years – but he fancied that there came about somewhat of a narrowness, one could only say priggishness in the general tone of Society. Much of it, he felt, had something hypocritical about it.

Indeed, one could only commend the fiery Miss Ferraby for the way she spoke out on the injustices towards women, and would by no means write her off as a fit mate for Essie – his heir Lord Sallington, child of his first wife – no, not in the least. The Ferrabys had been quite his greatest friends, one would far rather unite with that fine industrialist and yeoman farmer stock than with some of the vitiated aristocratic blood that aimed at a union. But alas, Flora Ferraby considered marriage for a woman servitude, and one must suppose that she would find the life of a duchess-in-waiting confining.

Did not dear Viola sometimes roll her eyes, saying, la, here I must be going about Duchessing? He smiled. These days, no doubt, a young woman of Viola’s intellect would be pursuing studies at one of these colleges for ladies, like their niece Janey. But over the years she had become a respected scholar of the languages of the Orient, and they both found themselves great sympathizers of this new Bengali reform movement.

But Bella, though she had shown surprisingly well at the Miss Barnards’ school, did not seem particularly inclined to intellectual pursuits. Was there an older lady that she was at the feet of, it was undoubtedly Lady Emily Merrett, prime horsewoman, famed for her revival of the antient art of falconry, noted archer, residing on the small family estate of Attervale as quite Lady of the Manor with her cousin Lalage Fenster.

That was somewhat more eligible a model for a young lady than Belinda Penkarding, as she now called herself, widow of the late spurious Marquess of Bexbury, the lunatic bigamist, that she had left long before his elevation but returned to denounce on his attempt to marry an heiress following his succession. Had lived for years with the late Captain Penkarding breeding and schooling race-horses – noted for her skills in horse-doctoring – a fine woman but very much not In Society! Would he dared say be somewhat of a scandal was it known that Bella occasional met her. Though sure there were ladies presented at Court and received everywhere that he would consider presented a greater danger to a young woman!

But here they were at last at Attervale! A very tidy property, one saw that the Ladies of Attervale kept it all very proper – a quaint old-fashioned dovecote, beehives – as they approached the manor house. The mews for Lady Em’s hawks was, he fancied, somewhat more distant.

And Bella standing upon the step! He had been somewhat concerned as to how he should find her. Had been so unwonted languid following the Hackwold Incident, even after recovering from the chill caused by a wild ride on a sleety winter night. Quintus Ferraby had put it to him that she had sustained a shock to the nervous system – that Biffle, who knew more of the whole matter than they had felt wise to disclose beyond the family, felt very likely. A girl like Bella would not have anticipated encountering the like of Gothick villainy whilst attending a house-party at – of all places – Hackwold. Sir Antony and Lady Chellow were known for the excellent ton of their parties, but alas, had been called away to a sick relative, leaving all in the hands of Sir Antony’s detrimental half-brother Mortimer, and an aged spinster aunt.

Of course it was necessary to discourage Gillie from going challenge Blatchett – one feared that would only disseminate scandal – but indeed, knowing Gillie’s skill with a sword, and also a pistol, one was greatly tempted to give his brotherly wrath full range. Gillie might go deprecate the tales that gossip gave out, but there had been that duel in Buda-Pesth in which he had come off victorious – other tales perchance untold –

Bella came up to embrace her father as she had done in younger days. O, Papa! He held her away a little, to see her eyes bright, colour in her cheeks – recruiting here had been quite the best thing for her.

Why, Bella, he said, sure Attervale suits you.

O, 'tis entirely the pleasantest place! And I do not go be idle here – have been putting myself to study, as well learning somewhat of the domestic arts from Miss Fenster – but do you come in and take refreshment.

He fancied that the charming taste displayed in the parlour – entirely fitted to a country place the like of this – was due to Miss Fenster rather than Lady Emily. A fine jardinière by the window – good old-fashioned furniture well-kept-up –

A maid came in with a coffee-service and a platter of scones.

Bella showed exceeding adept at the pouring out and ritual offerings of cream and sugar! Did she at last acquire a little polish?

Sitting back in her own chair she said she supposed that he was on his way to Qualling, on account of this election?

That was something to startle Biffle! Then he saw the pile of newspapers and periodicals on the low table beside the sopha – was that what Bella had been putting herself to study?

What, do you turn to politics?

Bella blushed a little and cast down her eyes. Why, you knew I was reading the writings of Miss Ferraby – and she and Miss Roberts came visit here some little while ago, o, is she not remarkable? Such a mind – such a way of putting things – and got me into thinking of these matters –

Biffle’s mind was cast back to a foolish young fellow that had run about with a crew of debauchees, that had one night been abandoned by 'em incapacitated drunk in a gutter. And a musical voice saying, la, this will not do, 'tis Lord Sallington, I apprehend, let us get him into a chair – and seeing what, though decked in quite the height of fashion, seemed a golden-haired angel. That had took him to her apartments, give him a bath, a bed to sleep in, much strong coffee the morn, and demonstrated to him finer pleasures than he had found with those chaps.

Eventually turning his mind to his position and his responsibilities, and quite firmly arguing that these would not sit well with a flight to Gretna with her.

He had long since guessed that Flora Ferraby was Clorinda’s child – the resemblance was generally supposed to support the common belief that she was some relative of Eliza Ferraby’s. There had been nothing stern about her gentle persuasions towards duty and he dared say that Flora had the same gifts.

He smiled at Bella and said that Miss Ferraby’s powers of mind were only surpassed by her rhetorical capacity.

I know, said Bella, that there are those that deem certain matters upon which Miss Ferraby discourses unsuited to young women: but indeed, she spoke of nothing improper, but that ladies should be informed about the ways things are in society – and that it should not be considered unwomanly to take an intelligent interest in politics and economics &C –

Biffle chuckled. Bella blushed. Sure I have seen that Mama and Lady Wallace in particular – and of course Cathy – understand these matters a deal better than some gentlemen. But I have been wondering – she folded her hands in her lap and looked unwonted sober – whether there is any way I might come about to be useful?

Well! He had been pondering whether he might persuade Steenie to put aside poetry and be of some assistance to Essie during these next weeks, for his eldest son would be hard-pressed – ought to go be dutiful at Nitherholme besides assisting his father – was it only the duller tasks of keeping papers in order and pens sharpened and inkwells filled –

He was saying somewhat of the kind of work that might be wanted, when came in Essie himself, bearing a bundle wrapped up in sacking.

How now, Essie! What have you there?

Essie laid his burden very gently down upon one of the low tables that was not already encumbered. I finally persuaded Sir Hobday Perram to sell me a couple of paintings – two charming pieces of frivolity of the French school of the last century, I am of the strongest suspicion that one will turn out a Fragonard – so that the poor fellow can mend that leaking roof. He was very pressing for me to take 'em – so grateful for the introductions to Davison and Hannah &C – Davison has excellent news concerning the publication of his treatise –

However, I managed to make something of a bargain, by prevailing upon him to have call upon him one of Matt Johnson’s agents – I daresay 'twill be Miss Hacker – to advize upon making his valuable collection of Persian things more secure, for does word get about more generally, one fears 'twill be a temptation to thieves.

Biffle and Bella looked at him with great admiration.

That was very well done!

Essie shrugged. Then grinned. So, Father, has Bella prevailed upon you yet to let her come be your political secretary and one speculates in due course come about to emulate Aspasia in her writings upon Parliamentary matters?

Bella groaned at this brotherly teazing.

Aside from how charming it would be to have Bella occupied in this new fashion, Biffle took the thought that perchance she might in due course take thought towards a political match for which this would be educational instructive!