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Updated: June 20, 2025
One of Lady Sarah's parties took place at full moon, not long after the visit to Deptford, and Lord Fareham's barge was again employed, this time on a nocturnal expedition up the river to the fields near the haunted Abbey, to carry Hyacinth, her sister, De Malfort, Lord Rochester, Sir Ralph Masaroon, Sir Denzil Warner, and a bevy of wits and beauties beauties who had, some of them, been carrying on the beauty-business and trading in eyes and complexion for more than one decade, and who loved that night season when paint might be laid on thicker than in the glare of day.
In a week he was ready for Buckinghamshire; and Angela had her trunks packed, and had bid good-bye to her London friends, amidst the chatter of Lady Fareham's visiting-day, and the clear, bell-like clash of delicate china tea-cups miniature bowls of egg-shell porcelain, without handles, and to be held daintily between the tips of high-bred fingers.
He and one of his friends died on the ground, while three on the other side were mortally wounded. It would henceforth be fully understood that Lady Fareham's name was not for ribald jesters; but the man Lady Fareham loved was dead, and her life of pleasure had ended with a pistol-ball from an unerring hand. To her it seemed the hand of Fate. She scarcely thought of the man who had killed him.
That she, in her supremacy of beauty and splendour, a fortune sparkling in either ear, the price of a landed estate on her neck that she, Barbara, Countess of Castlemaine, should have driven in a windowless coach through dusty lanes, eating dirt, as it were, with her train of court gallants on horseback at her coach doors, her ladies in a carriage in the rear, to visit a person of Lady Fareham's petty quality, a Buckinghamshire Knight's daughter married to a Baron of Henry the Eighth's creation!
Yes, sweetheart, saddle your pony, and order your aunt's horse and a pair of grooms to take care of you." The child ran off rejoicing. "Precocious little devil! She will pick up all our jargon before she is in her teens." "Dear sister, if you talk so indiscreetly before her " "Indiscreet! Am I really so indiscreet? That is Fareham's word. I believe I was born so.
The barge wore a much more festive aspect under her ladyship's management than when used by his lordship for a daylight voyage like the trip to Deptford. Satin coverlets and tapestry curtains had been brought from Lady Fareham's own apartments, to be flung with studied carelessness over benches and tabourets.
"I sometimes think we shall have bad luck in this house," she said, "or that we shall see the ghosts of the wicked monks who were turned out to make room for Fareham's great-grandfather." "Tush, child! what do you know of their wickedness, after a century?"
Other of Lady Fareham's particular friends were expected Sir Ralph Masaroon, Lady Lucretia Topham, and more of the same kidney; and even the volatile Rochester had deigned to express an interest in the case. "The man was mistaken in his metier," he had told Lady Sarah, when the scandal was discussed in her drawing-room. "The role of seducer was not within his means.
They pushed on to High Wycombe before night-fall, and supped tete-a-tete in the best room of the inn, with Fareham's faithful Manningtree to bring in the chief dish, and the people of the house to wait upon them.
She put a stern restraint upon herself, so that there should be nothing hysterical in her manner, lest her fears about her sister's health should be mistaken for agitation at his presence. She stood beside the horse, straight and firm, with her hand on the pommel, and sprang lightly into the saddle as Fareham's strong arm lifted her.
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