Nell Gwynne's On Land and At Sea Read Online Free PDF

with a shrug. She reached into her waistcoat pocket and felt about. “Damn! I left my lucifer case in the bar.” She rose hastily and went off in search of it.
     

     
    The galop is not normally a conversational dance, since so much effort is required simply to breathe while dancing. However, even storming through it like a wild mustang of the Western plains as he did, Mr. Pickett’s lungs proved equal to the challenge.
    “I must say, Miss Beatrice, you speak in a splendidly refined manner,” he roared. “Would you be at all agreeable to giving me elocution lessons? I’d pay handsomely.”
    It was a moment before Lady Beatrice could reply, caught as she was between astonishment and the need to inhale. Mr. Pickett, watching her face closely, went red once more.
    “Miss Beatrice, I must apologize! I certainly intended no offense. I hope you’ll forgive a poor scion of Britain raised among ruder stock,” he implored.
    “Quite,” said Lady Beatrice, as the music thudded to its conclusion. “Mr. Picket, I confess I am somewhat fatigued. Might I be escorted to a chair?”
     

     
    “Would you be at all inclined to some liquid refreshment, Miss Beatrice?” said Mr. Pickett as he bowed her to her seat by Mrs. Corvey, who sat presently alone, dance partners having claimed all the other staff of Nell Gwynne’s for a stately quadrille.
    “That would be most kind.” Lady Beatrice opened her fan and fluttered it in a not-quite-dismissive manner to speed Mr. Pickett on his way.
    “Your cheeks are pink and your pupils are dilated,” observed Mrs. Corvey. “Having a good time, are we?”
    “An energetic one, at least. I would appear to have an admirer,” said Lady Beatrice. “It appears that Mr. Pickett desires to alter himself into an Englishman, and has been led astray in this enterprise by his butler. Evidently he was convinced that bizarre accent was correct.”
    “Hears what he wants to hear and then believes it, I dare say,” commented Mrs. Corvey.
    Lady Beatrice, remembering the glaring eyes and gnashing teeth, nodded thoughtfully.
    “He is understandably unhappy with the results, now. Do you know, he asked me to give him elocution lessons? And then was struck with mortification when he realized he had offered me money.”
    “Money, eh?” Mrs. Corvey suppressed a chuckle. “What a thoughtful gentleman, to be sure. Well, I should tell him Yes to those elocution lessons, my dear.”
    “Truly?” Lady Beatrice glanced sidelong at Mrs. Corvey.
    “Oh, yes. I think our Mr. Pickett bears watching,” said Mrs. Corvey, just as that gentleman returned and presented Lady Beatrice with a cup of punch.
    “Sweets to the sweet, and refreshment to one who refreshes all eyes,” he said, with a gallant bow.
    “Thank you so much, dear Mr. Pickett,” said Lady Beatrice. “Mamma has agreed that it would be quite proper to assist you in learning more suitable accents. My only fee, of course, shall be that Mamma be permitted to attend us and so partake of the restorative air for which Torbay is so well known.”
    “Indeed, young man,” said Mrs. Corvey, gazing at a spot some two feet to the left of Mr. Pickett.
    Mr. Pickett grinned hugely. “Why, certainly,” he said with a broad wink at Lady Beatrice. “Mother shall certainly come along as a chaperone. When may I call upon you, and at what o’clock, Miss Beatrice and Mrs. Corvey? I have a fine four-in-hand and we can take in something of the countryside.”
    “Perhaps the day after tomorrow, in the early afternoon,” said Mrs. Corvey. “My girls are late sleepers.”
     

     
    Next day, as shortly after midday as could possible be construed to be “early afternoon,” a messenger with a gift called upon Lady Beatrice. She and Mrs. Corvey went downstairs to the lodging house parlor to receive it.
    The messenger was a man in good new suit that in no way disguised his dubious origins. His face bore a notably crooked nose, and his hands were calloused and bent