Page 62
As Angelica relaxed, she gradually lost her struggle to remain awake and her eyelids fluttered closed. Her head tipped sideways onto Mr Asprey’s shoulder as she gave herself up to blessed sleep. He looked down in consternation. She was so slight and her clothes so heavy and ill-fitting she could easily slip off the seat. The only recourse was to hold onto her by placing his left arm around her shoulders and drive the rest of the way with only his right hand to control his horses.
* * *
Martin opened the door and his eyes registered shock and panic. ‘What’s befallen you, Miss Angelica? A devil-ridden ramshackle! Your damaged beauty! And why in groom’s toggery?’
Angelica was too tired to respond and Mr Asprey stepped forward. ‘Is it Martin?’ He gazed on the clown-like face of a middle-aged man wringing his hands in distress, and smiled. ‘Miss Leigh is in need of sleep. Mary will be back later.’
At that moment Mr Brunner emerged from the back of the house, his battered old face revealing little surprise at the bizarre sight of his dishevelled young mistress in oversized livery. ‘Miss Angelica.’ He greeted her and nodded at Mr Asprey. ‘Good morning, sir.’ He recognised her companion from the times he had visited the Asprey mansion to enquire about his mistress’s health. ‘Mrs Leigh is out but when she returns I’ll tell her you are home.’
Angelica turned to Mr Asprey and offered her hand. ‘Thank you, for arriving just as I needed help.’
He bowed, saying formally, ‘It is my honour, Miss Leigh. Perhaps I may take you for a drive in Green Park tomorrow afternoon?’
Angelica resisted her heart’s cry, yes, yes, yes. Instead she smiled and answered with regret, ‘I’m afraid rehearsals start for my next play. As I’m the “Child of Nature” herself I’ll have to practice female perfection and passivity.’
‘I can see just how much of a trial that will be for you,’ Ivor Asprey said with a smile, and turned to go.
* * *
Angelica quickly divested herself of Robert’s clothes and slipped into bed to give herself up at last to sleep. In the middle of the afternoon she was woken by Mary, gently shaking her shoulder. ‘Miss Angelica, Miss Angelica. I’m sorry to trouble you but we’ve just arrived home from Cloudberry. We were so worried about you.’ She then noticed Angelica’s grazed face. ‘Lawks! What has befallen you, Miss?’ Then not waiting for an answer continued in an urgent voice, ‘Miss Fitzjames is downstairs in a state. Can you see her?’
Angelica dragged herself back to consciousness and climbed out of bed. Her hair was a mess and Mary immediately began brushing out the blue powder to return it to its natural golden state. ‘Mary, I fell off a horse. Hence my disreputable look.’ She had not the energy for further explanation and clambered into a morning dress of oyster pink jaconet. Glancing at herself in the looking-glass, she was surprised at her pallor and how the graze on her forehead was already scabbing over. She pinched her cheeks and set off down the stairs.
Isobel Fitzjames was looking even worse than Angelica felt. Her eyes were red-rimmed and her face stiff with constrained emotion. ‘Oh, Miss Angelica, your face! What has happened? I’m so glad to see you. I’ve been so concerned about why you left so precipitously.’ She dashed to her friend’s side and almost sank to her knees.
‘Come and sit down. You look done-up. Do you need some refreshment?’
‘No, no.’ She was agitated. ‘I have something so troubling on my mind.’
Angelica leaned forward with concern. ‘Why? What has happened?’
The young woman seemed almost speechless with distress. ‘I’m so afraid you left in such a hurry because I’d betrayed you so shabbily,’ she whispered. ‘I feel ashamed at how I’ve treated you, my truest friend.’ Her eyes were cast down and Angelica thought she may be silently crying.
‘Nothing can be this bad, surely? Just tell me.’ She took her hand.
With a sob she looked up to meet Angelica’s sympathetic eyes. ‘When I was friendless and frightened you gave me hope. I can’t bear you to be kind now when I have repaid you so ill.’
Angelica was losing a little patience. ‘Miss Isobel, we aren’t in a novel now, or a Cheltenham tragedy,’ she said briskly, then continued in a softer tone of voice, ‘My dear, what can have caused you so much grief?’
Miss Fitzjames took a breath and blurted out, ‘I think I love Lord Latimer.’ Her hand flew to her mouth, her eyes wide, horrified at the import of what she had just said. What had been unspoken between the friends in the carriage was now clearly stated, and it shocked them both.
Angelica felt a jolt run through her at hearing the words make concrete something she had known tacitly and come to accept. She summoned her actress skills to hide her fleeting shock and be able to say with perfect equanimity and truth, ‘My dear, this is not a betrayal, I assure you. Lord Latimer is not mine to claim. He’s a friend, as are you and that will not change.’ Angelica held the young woman’s hand between both of hers as she looked into her eyes and asked, ‘Does he return your feelings?’ Isobel Fitzjames nodded, her face bleak.
‘Well, that is a cause for happiness, surely?’
‘It is if it doesn’t hurt you.’
‘As you can see, it doesn’t upset me. You know I was never going to be a suitable wife for Lord Latimer. You’re so much better placed and his whole family can rejoice with you.’ Angelica knew this was reasonable and fair; it was the way of the world, and she felt a sisterly pleasure in Isobel Fitzjames’s finding love, but her heart was pained by how hard it would prove for her to do the same.
Isobel coloured. ‘Oh Miss Angelica, I’ve been so ashamed, and frightened that it was because of me you rode off into the night.’
‘No, no. It was not you but something else that happened. So you can rest assured.’
With relief, Isobel threw her arms around her friend. ‘Thank you, thank you. You’ve put my mind at ease. It’s the first time I’ve felt happy since my father died.’
‘Dear Isobel, you must be happy, because to find someone you love who loves you in return is rare enough. To have no barriers to your union is even more felicitous.’
At this point Martin knocked on the door. ‘Lord Latimer to see you, Miss Angelica,’ he said, his expressive face conveying some turbulence of emotion Angelica could not quite interpret.
