Chapter 15

In Which Mr. Beaumont Displays Gallantry

With a gasp, Miss Davis turned sharply around, and felt an equal measure of surprise and relief when she encountered the bewildered countenance of Mr Beaumont. “Why, it’s you, Mr Beaumont!” she exclaimed, “Good heavens, you nearly scared the life out of me!”

“Do forgive me! It wasn’t my intention, and nothing in the world would compel me to do so, Miss Davis,” Mr Beaumont apologized handsomely, giving her a sheepish smile. “Though to be sure, it is a queer thing to see you in this spot, and alone.” He frowned at the last word. “Were you looking for someone?”

Completely abashed, she threw a cursory glance towards the ruined temple, and wondered for a moment if the pair had already fled. “Well… No. I— I just thought I’ve seen a friend, but it turned out that I was mistaken,” she fibbed, and made a pretense of brushing the skirt of her pelisse.

Mr. Beaumont accordingly accepted this with a nod. “I see. And may I ask why were you hiding behind the hedge?” he enquired politely enough, but there was a playful twinkle in his blue eyes.

Miss Davis grinned despite herself and was obliged to vouchsafe the truth. “The truth is, I’ve discovered something that I shouldn’t, or, at least I think I shouldn’t! And I’m sorry I cannot divulge it to you. You must think me ill-bred, prowling about in a place where I shouldn’t be, and what’s more getting into something which is completely not my concern!”

“Not at all! Put it that way, I think you were having a singular adventure,” replied the young man sympathetically. “Although I venture to think that I know the nature of this, ah, discovery of yours.” Seeing her widened gaze, he added with a chuckle: “Why, Miss Davis, Vauxhall is a regular love nest— that’s hardly news! And having seen you spying on that ruined temple, well, that makes it plain as a pikestaff.”

“Yes, now I know that!” she returned with a giggle. “But you see, this is only my first visit here, so I’m still green as a country bumpkin!”

He gave her a lopsided smile. “Oh, but alluringly green, Miss Davis, if I may say so!”

“Thank you!” she blushed, “Though I’m sure my Aunt would have laughed to hear you say so because she always worry her head over me, you know, and that is not alluring at all!”

“Well, I suppose that’s quite natural,” he said, and after a slight pause he swept his gaze about them. “You shouldn’t really wander about here without company. With too much merrymaking, some gentlemen here are inclined to, er, have their scruples entirely forgotten after a few quaffs, you know, and it would be very dangerous if you’d come across one of them.”

“It would, I’m sure! Clearly I wasn’t very heedful, but I am glad that it’s you who’ve found me, and not one of those inebriates!”

“Yes, quite fortunate indeed. Shall I escort you back to your friends now? Or,” he grinned impishly, “if you like, I can tour you further around. I’m sure you haven’t got your fill of Vauxhall yet, have you? Well, it stands to reason: that would certainly take you all night!”

“That would be lovely, thank you!” Miss Davis readily acquiesced, but a shadow suddenly ebbed the eagerness on her face. “Although I daresay Mrs Sutherton and Julie must be worried that I’m not yet returned. They might be looking for me now, and… and— oh! Now I’ve done something really foolish tonight!”

“Am I to understand that you’d just ran off without so much as their leave?” he asked incredulously.

“Of course! For I wouldn’t be here if they knew, would I?”

“And left them in a mighty stew, I’m pretty sure of it!” he laughed and shook his head, “Well, that’s a pity, because I am now compelled to return you to them after all. Where are they, exactly? Do you know your way back?” When Miss Davis threw him a blank look, Mr. Beaumont, with a dawning suspicion, exclaimed in disbelief: “Don’t say you can’t remember it!”

“No, no! That is, I can—but vaguely! Well, I’m sure if I’ll walk down this lane again then turn on a corner to my right…” her brows knitted in uncertainty. “You see, we were on a grove, where an orchestra was giving a concert — not the other Grove, where the Handel statue is—but a small one.” she clarified. “But then, with all those people rushing to and fro, I was barely mindful of my way, and when I’d followed Cedric here —oh! But you must not know that!” she hurriedly amended, looking a little shamefaced.

“No, that I must not!” Her escort agreed solemnly, but his own lips betrayed an urge to laugh.

“Since I’ve spilled some of the beans now, that doesn’t signify after all, I think. Besides, you won’t really care a jot about it, will you? I mean, I had a good reason to follow him, you understand, and what’s more I’ve known him for many years, and, come to think of it, you don’t know him even! So that makes it— are you laughing at me?” she demanded.

“Only because I am thinking what a treasure you are!” he said, chuckling. “Well, it’s no use crying over a spilt milk now, and ten to one they are now bustling around, looking high and low for you. There might still be a chance that we’d run across them along the way, never fear! Shall we?” he offered her his arm.

The notion seemed to fortify Miss Davis; smiling, she said, taking his arm, “Yes, do let us go, then!”

For the next few minutes they strolled on a long gravel walk, arrayed with well-lit sycamores and elms. Their promenade was accompanied by a lively conversation, and Mr Beaumont, barely lacking of tales to tell, had for more than once prompted a smile or a giggle from Miss Davis, and had not failed to make her blush on his compliments. With all the unfailing attention lavished on her by such a dashing and personable escort, her present concerns had temporarily vacated her mind.

“We are heading for the Rural Downs — that copse you glimpse ahead,” Mr Beaumont began to explain when they reached the extremity of the Gardens, where only a few people milled about. “When we turn on that bend, you’ll see at the corner the hermit’s lodge, and farther still, on the edge of the Downs, stands the statue of our great poet Milton amongst shrubberies and trees. We shall go and pay him a visit.”

After a fleeting visit at the hermitage, the pair pursued the adjoining lane, and it was on the course of this perambulation that Miss Davis broke into an exclamation: “Oh, I can see St. Paul’s from here! And Westminster too!”

“Now we feel that we are truly on the other side of London,” he smiled down at her.

“Yes, and this part of London is a paradise!” Miss Davis asserted. “I declare the gaieties here are ten times more impressive than the town’s; moreover, everyone is in a state of uninhibited joy that your spirits will soar all night by merely looking at them! And with all the music and dancing— ! I believe I shall retire later with my face still writhing with smile!”

“A very comfortable way to sleep, I’m sure!” Mr Beaumont agreed, laughing at her awe-stricken utterances. They entered the Downs through the bordering Cypress trees, and rambled on the grassy expanse in companionable silence. Numberless trees were scattered around, and the moon cast its pale light all over the place, making it easy to discern their way. A few yards more and the illuminated life-size statue of John Milton, seated on the rock, came into view. Caroline, whose past lessons fairly encompassed the works of the poet, inadvertently murmured her favourite passage: The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven, and drew an appreciative remark from Mr Beaumont. “You surely remember your Paradise Lost, Miss Davis.”

“Oh, not entirely! Only that passage, and a few memorable ones. Do you?”

“Lord, no! Must have left it somewhere between Eton and Oxford,” replied Mr Beaumont, cheerfully unconcerned.

A bubble of laughter escaped from Miss Davis. “Oh! That is to be expected, I daresay! But it’s utterly droll to hear you say so in front of Mr Milton’s shrine!”

“What effrontery I possess! Well, I’m sorry about it, but I’ve never had a mind for poetry, you know!” he grinned, looking anything but sorry. “Do you have your fill already? Shall we move on?”

“Can we repair here for a bit? I daresay my feet will give away if I should walk for another couple of yards!”

“By all means.You look awfully worn out!”

“Not awfully; rather, happily worn out,” she smiled back and settled on a lone wrought iron bench under a huge tulip tree. Mr Beaumont followed suit. “Well, I’m rather parched,” he complained after a bit. “Perhaps I’ll fetch us some refreshments? The Supper Rooms are just nearby, I think. Would you terribly mind if I leave you for a while here? It won’t be long; I shall return immediately.” Miss Davis didn’t mind at all, for her throat had gone dry as well, and a glass of punch would be very lovely indeed. With that Mr Beaumont went, leaving her a little time for her own reflections.

Caroline wiggled a pair of tired toes, thinking, with a surge of remorse, the trouble she was presently causing them because of her impulsive escapade earlier. She wondered where were they now, and that they must be fagged to death looking for her for nearly an hour, and a pretty infamous thing she’d done, indeed! — And after giving her word to Cousin Sophie never to stray away from the company, too! Sooner or later, she’d eventually invite disaster to their doors if she didn’t knew better than to curb her recklessness. She heaved a troubled sigh. Mr Beaumont had said that they might still run across them along the way, and that somehow had made her a little less upset.

Belatedly, she also realized that sauntering around the Gardens with Mr Beaumont was hardly appropriate, and was dead sure Mrs Sutherton would later receive this knowledge anything but equably. Worse still, Aunt Emilia be in dire straits when she got wind of this! On the other hand, she allowed herself to speculate that nonetheless of how much Mrs Sutherton’s sense of propriety (and Aunt Emilia’s, for that matter) might be offended, the rest of Vauxhall would never care one fig about her— a young unmarried woman— unchaperoned in the company of Mr Beaumont, and the notion that her reputation would be in tatters by tomorrow was grossly far-fetched, not to mention utterly priggish.

Thoroughly absorbed with these ruminations, Miss Davis was too abstracted to notice the movements in the shadow, which would eventually reveal a tall and slender figure of a man. It was only when he spoke that her attention was caught, and she looked up, and saw that she was being quizzed. “My, my. And what do we have here? A lone lamb among the trees —” he dropped the quizzing glass and shot a glance at the statue, “—and with this fellow Milton. Though to be sure I find him as dull as a lamp post, and not a fit company to a lady.”

“Good evening to you, sir,” she replied placidly, but regarded the stranger with a careful eye. Although it was a little dim, she could make out a young prominent face under the brim of his beaver, and as executed a rather clumsy bow, suspicions dawned on her that the stranger might be half—or completely—drunk.

“Lovely evening ’tis,” he said. “And lovelier still with a sight like the one I behold—” He broke off when someone exclaimed behind him: “Fiend seize you, Ricky! Bolting like that and turning that damsel you were trifling with cold as an iceberg afterwards! Don’t tell me ye’ve ran off just to pay this Milton fellow a visit, for it is a damned sight too—hey! But who is this?” He was a stocky fellow, with unflattering whiskers and coarse face.

“I was mid-way in rendering my flatteries when you interrupted,” the man called Ricky told him severely.

“Ho-ho! If that ain’t like you! Well, little puss, what d’ye think of Ricky?”

“I think that he’s a little foxed, sir, and so are you!” she retorted.

“No! Drunk as a wheelbarrow!” The whiskered man grinned. “But me, well, just three-parts, y’know!”

Miss Davis got up and declared disdainfully: “I can see now that you are. Well, my peace is now sadly disturbed, so I will leave you to your own, gentlemen.” But she was completely aghast when his bulky figure deliberately blocked her way.

“Nay, puss, leaving already? Night’s young yet! Won’t you accompany us for a bit?” he roved a leering eye over her person that she felt shivering beneath her pelisse. “No, I don’t want to! And please, move out of my way, sir!” Caroline demanded belligerently, but inwardly she felt the very alarmed.

“That’s rather unfortunate, because we won’t take no for an answer,” the slender man declared, and snatched her wrist, encasing it in a searing grip that she gasped audibly. “Don’t be shy, my lamb. Won’t hurt a hair on you: you’ll have to trust me! Come now, and we’ll make a mighty fine time of the night yet. I’m sure you’ll turn up sweet eventually,” he sneered, and started to pull her into the darkness of the thicket.

Digging her heels as forcibly as she could, Caroline felt a sickening mixture of fear and panic coursing through her body, realizing that she was already on the brink of peril. “No! You’re mistaken!” she exclaimed, desperately tugging her hand. “I’m not a— a lady bird you must think me! Let me go! Let me go, you— rogue!”

The two men hooted with laughter at this pronouncement. Her captor said: “I know, my sweet! But the thing is, lady birds do not interest me at all: lambs do! Come!” She would have screamed on the top of her lungs, but his large hand smothered it with alacrity, and she was reduced to emitting muffled noises instead.

It was exactly on that same moment when Mr Beaumont, having already procured refreshments, had returned from his errand and entered the Downs once again in a happy state of ignorance of the goings-on. But no sooner had he glimpsed the empty bench than he was assailed by a sudden unease, and prompted his strides to be more brisk. Mr Beaumont had feared that his errant companion must have taken into her head again to wander about, but the outrageous scene that greeted him was far worse; and his earlier discomposure suddenly gave way to a cold, sinister fury, ready to lash at the two miscreants who were presently manhandling Miss Davis.

Sending the two glasses of ratafia to the ground, he uttered a vicious curse, and charged towards them, menacingly demanding: “Let her go! Let her go, damn you!”

The damsel stared at him wide-eyed with relief, but her captor looked very much vexed with this intrusion. “Oy, oy!” her captor’s confederate exclaimed in surprise and annoyance, disrupting Mr Beaumont’s progress. “Not so fast, m’boy! Damn, don’t ye come barging in as tetchy as ye please!”

This interruption was met with a baleful glare, shortly followed by a blistering blow aimed directly to his nose that sent him reeling afterwards, and yelping in pain as blood dripped freely from his injured part. Miss Davis, sensing her captor’s momentary stupefaction from the interlude, jabbed an elbow onto his stomach with such force that she gained immediate freedom, and speedily made a safe distance away from his person just when Mr Beaumont was about to give him a share of his wrath. Ricky had proved to be made of a sterner stuff though, for despite the stunning punch his jaw had received, he’d maintained his footing and balance, but not, inevitably, his temper.

“You— cur!” he thundered, and thus, an answering blow soon administered straight to Mr Beaumont’s left cheek, and the two men were eventually immersed in fisticuffs before Miss Davis could have prevented it. She watched helplessly as they tumbled into the thick shrubberies, exchanging blows and insults. “Stop! Please, stop this at once!”

“Go now, Miss Davis!” Mr Beaumont commanded her sharply, after delivering an impressive hook under his opponent’s eye, temporarily keeping him at a disadvantage. “I’ll catch up soon,” he told her between heavy pantings, “after I’ve settled this little affair.”

“What! But— but what about—”

“Now!”

With this peremptory word, she reluctantly scurried away, leaving her champion to his fate, and making herself prey to severe agitation. If there was one thing she’d hated most, Caroline thought moments later as she drifted listlessly along the gravel walk, it was to feel utter helplessness, and the lack of power to do anything to save a friend from harm. If only she could summon help, and save Mr Beaumont from being beaten to a pulp! But as it turned out, no help was at hand, since she’d only met two young ladies on her way, and the place was as good as deserted. Completely putting all the rest in the hands of Providence, she silently uttered a prayer, and continually pursued her path.

However, as she was nearing the bend in the lane, approaching murmurs reached Caroline’s ear, and it soon became a clear, boisterous male voice that she couldn’t help but listen. “… shouldn’t come here looking Friday-faced, my boy, for it ain’t the thing at all! Might have told you earlier to nurse your megrims somewhere, but, Lord, I didn’t mean you’d do it in Vauxhall!”

“I’ll thank you, sir, if you’d put a stop to this infernal reference to my megrims!” came another; this time it was oddly familiar that Caroline gasped in surprise, her heart suddenly gave a leap. “For one thing, it does not concern you at all, and another, I wouldn’t prefer to call it that! And be good as to tell me why should we watch a curst stunt of a freak walking on a tightrope, instead of spending the better part of our time looking for my Mother?”

“That’s exactly my point! Your Mother might be watching Madame Saqui right now, and that is reason enough why we should go and watch, too!”

“Let me just make my sentiments known to you, sir: as an escort, you are an utter failure!”

“Well, dammit, Stefan! I am her escort, not her guard to watch her every move! And no reason why you should be fretting like a hen, for the Countess could very well be able to— the devil!” Sir Wallace ejaculated, jerking in fright when the small figure of Miss Davis leaped out from the dim corner, materializing in front of them all of a sudden.

Her face a picture of brimming gratefulness, she exclaimed, without any prelude, “Lord Stokeford! It’s you, thank heavens!”

The Earl was equally taken aback by her sudden appearance (although not as much as his godfather), but this was abruptly replaced by perplexity, and a little consternation. “Miss Davis! What are you doing here? Is something the matter? And why are you alone?”

“It’s a long story, and we haven’t much time! You must come with me!”