He decided, coldly considering Mrs Clapham, that he must make it his business to ingratiate himself with her companion, and did not doubt his ability to do so: elderly female—witness Miss Wendover!—could easily be bamboozled. It would do no harm to bring Mrs Winkworth round his thumb; and, if he could be satisfied that Mrs Clapham was as wealthy as she appeared to be, it would be of the first importance to do so. Another possibility suggested itself to him: all too frequently the wealth inherited by widows was so tightly tied up that they might as well have been paupers. Not so long since, he had him-self been as near as a toucher to being completely taken-in. Within ames-ace of offering for the hand of a widow in affluent circumstances, he had discovered that the better part of her very handsome independence would be lost to her if she embarked upon a second marriage. A very near-run thing that had been, and he meant to take good care he did not again court such a risk. In these calculations Fanny was not forgotten. If Fanny had been of full age, he would not have considered for a moment Mrs Clapham’s claims to his attention, for although (had it been possible for him to consult only his inclination) he would not have chosen such a high-spirited and self-willed bride as Fanny, she was a lovely little creature, and marriage to her would do much to rehabilitate him in the eyes of society. The Wendovers did not figure amongst the members of the haut ton,but they might have done so, had they so wished. The family, though not of such ancient lineage as the Calverleighs, was of undoubted gentility, and had been for long established in the county of Bedfordshire. It was also extremely well-connected. When Mr James Wendover, who had no taste for town-life, was constrained by his equally well-connected spouse to hire a house in London for his eldest daughter’s come-out, it would require no effort on his part to introduce Miss Albinia into the first circles. Everyone knew the Wendovers, and a surprising number of distinguished persons acknowledged some sort of relationship with the family. Frivolous people might make game of Mr James Wendover’s prejudices, but marriage to his niece, the heiress to Amberfield, could be depended on to restore the bridegroom to respectability.
But Fanny was not of full age; and while Stacy knew enough, of her uncle to be tolerably sure that he would be obliged, by his dread of scandal, to condone her runaway marriage, and, at the least, put her in possession of the income derived from her estates,—if not immediately, certainly when she became seized with the effects of matrimony—it had been rudely borne in upon him that there was no time to be wasted in extricating himself from his embarrassments. He had hoped to have carried Fanny off within a day of her aunts’ curst rout-party, but she had contracted influenza, and it might now be weeks before she was well enough even to contemplate an elopement. Nor could he be sure that he could bring her to the sticking-point when she was restored to health. It had taken much coaxing to overcome her unexpected recoil from a Gretna Green marriage—if he had overcome it, which was doubtful. He had thought that he had done so, but she had almost repulsed him at the rout-party. It seemed all too probable that still more precious time would be wasted in bringing her under his spell again.
But if Mrs Clapham was indeed in untrammelled possession of a handsome fortune; if she could be swept off her feet by the attentions of a personable man of birth and fashion—and one, moreover, who owned a seat which was mentioned, if not minutely described, in any Guide Book to Berkshire—Badbury, his man of business, would not find it impossible to persuade his mortgagees to grant him a few more weeks’ grace before instituting forfeiture proceedings. There would be no question of an expensive elopement—and that, when the proprietors of the old-established house with whom one’s family had banked since time out of mind were indicating, sorrowfully but implacably, that unless one’s debt to them was substantially reduced they would be forced to dishonour any further drafts upon their resources, would be an advantage. Mrs Clapham was not a minor, and the notice of his engagement to her, coupled with a disclosure to Badbury of her circumstances, would be enough to fob off his creditors.
There was very little doubt in his mind that the conquest of Mrs Clapham would not be difficult. He had instantly recognized the invitation in her eyes and the widening look which betrayed admiration; and what, in her ingenuous way, she had already divulged, informed him that she was heartily bored by the decorous conduct imposed upon her by her widowhood. She might be the daughter and the relict of respectable tradesmen, but experience made it easy for Mr Stacy Calverleigh to detect in her the signs of the Approachable.
It was possible that she had come to Bath merely in search of diversion, and that when she threw him that tantalizing glance from under her sweeping lashes she had nothing more serious in mind than flirtation; but he thought it unlikely. She might have the instincts of a straw damsel, but he judged her to be sprung from middle-class parents, and to be too much imbued with the boring, shabby-genteel notions obtaining amongst the depressing and regrettably increasing members of this class to encourage the advances of any gentleman unable, or unwilling, to offer her the security of marriage.
He would have preferred, of course, to have become leg-shackled to a female of his own order, but the exigencies of his position made it impossible for him to be too nice in his choice. She seemed, at all events, to be a simple creature, who could be groomed into the semblance of a woman of quality. Her simplicity had led her to Bath, which was at once fortunate, and a trifle ticklish. Passing under review the numerous acquaintances he had made in Bath, he could discover no rival amongst them. But for weeks past the eyes of the residents had been interestedly watching his courtship of Fanny, and however little he might regard the censure of such as Mrs Ancrum, or Lady Weaverham, he would find himself in the suds if that determined pursuit came to the ears of Mrs Clapham. If he decided that it would be worth his while to transfer his attentions to her, he would be obliged to seek a way out of an obviously awkward situation. Well, it would be time enough to think how best to deal with trouble when he was brought face to face with it: that had always been his rule, and, on the whole, it had answered pretty well. Meanwhile, his first and most pressing need was to enquire more precisely into Mrs Clapham’s circumstances.
From his window, he was able to observe her return to the White Hart; and thus it came about that just as she had begun to mount the stairs he rounded the turn in the first pair, and came running lightly down. At sight of her, he checked, and, with a startled apology, retreated to the half-landing.