Chapter 7
“It cannot harm to try, if Mr. Worthington’s equipage is as safe as he says,” said Sophie. “And Hugo endorses its safety.”
“I drove it out of town and tried to tip it over on some of the nastiest pieces of camber I could find,” said Hugo. “I couldn’t get it to tip. Then Stephen drove it whilst I tried to dump him in a ditch like the worst sort of yahoo, hunting the squirrel, as such young fools call it, trying to tip honest folks’ carriages over. Broke my own wheel, which was an expense well-worth incurring in order to check that even a driver as good as I am could not tip it over.”
“I’m impressed,” said Elvira. “We will try a drive in the park.”
“I will ride with you, as an outrider, to give you further assurance,” said Hugo.
The carriage was easily wide enough for the three girls, with Sophie in the middle, and Stephen held his team to a walk. They occasioned stares, and remarks; and if the comments were anything but complimentary, Stephen was oblivious.
“Sophie says you may try a trot,” called Kitty.
Stephen raised a hand in acknowledgement, and smoothly changed gait.
One of Hugo’s many admirers, out in his curricle, came to a halt, facing Stephen’s equipage and signalling Stephen to stop. Stephen did so.
“Ladbrock?” he said, politely.
“Worthington! What the devil do you think you’re doing? You’re making all of us a laughing-stock by association, and is that Miss Bottringham with you? I shall tell Bottringham that you are subjecting his sister to ridicule!” cried Ladbrock, red in the face with outrage. “I’m tempted to call you out; why, I offered a drive to Miss Bottringham, and she said she was engaged with you, but Miss Bottringham! I pray you to transfer to my equipage, and leave this wretched fellow and whichever other unfortunate females he has persuaded to ride in this… thing.”
“Mr. Ladbrock, Mr. Worthington has constructed this vehicle specifically to pander to my comfort, and that of my sister,” said Elvira, coldly. “You don’t corner well enough for me to consider for one minute driving in your unsafe equipage, though until you were so rude about and to Mr. Worthington I was not going to be tactless enough to say so. I consider that your control of your equipment is of dubious status.”
“She’s right; you drive that thing too fast for the park,” said Hugo, urging his horse forward. “And I helped Stephen build his juggernaut, so I already know about it. Unless you will call me out for wishing my sisters to feel comfortable? Not all ladies like driving fast in sporting vehicles. And it is only two years since my sisters were involved in the coaching accident which killed our parents. I object to you considering my sisters to be objects of derision for their very reasonable fears. Did you have anything more to say on the subject?”
“I… I… no,” said Ladbrock, with a snap.
“Good,” said Hugo.
Hugo threw a dinner party for those in his circle who were keen sportsmen and drivers and addressed them all before going in for the meal. Ladbrock had not been invited.
“I want to know how many of you are scandalised that I care about the trauma my sisters feel as a result of almost dying with our parents,” he said. “Ladbrock has already expressed his horror over me preferring them to enjoy a drive in a vehicle built for stability not speed rather than forcing them to endure terror in a sporting vehicle. To my mind, driving is a pleasure, and should be so, not something to be endured, and I am very grateful to Stephen Worthington for using his knowledge to build the ugliest carriage in the world which cannot be tipped over or even deliberately turned over by external forces so that my sisters can take pleasure in being driven. Anyone who disagrees with my viewpoint would do well to leave now.”
“Dammit, Bottringham, can’t you make them stay at home rather than making you a laughing stock like that?” demanded one of his acquaintances.
“Do you enjoy driving, Embury?” asked Hugo.
“Of course!” said Embury.
“So, what if I suggested you should stay at home and not go out driving?”
“Well, why would you suggest such a stupid thing?” said Embury.
“Well, why would I accept you suggesting such a stupid thing for my sisters?” said Hugo.
Embury gaped.
“Well, they’re only women,” he said.
“They are my only surviving family,” said Hugo. “And do you know what? If it made them happy, I would drive them around town in a donkey cart. I take pleasure in my skill driving a sporting vehicle, but I’d give it up in a second for the happiness of my sisters. Because I’m a man, not a stupid little boy who puts his own pleasure before those who are important to me. I think I can dispense with your company, Embury.”
Embury stumbled out.
“Are you sure you’re not condemning yourself to social ruin?” asked another.
Hugo stared at him through his quizzing glass.
“Social ruin? For caring about my family? Really?” he said.
“Well, being a laughing stock…” said the man.
“Dangerfield, I would rather suffer total social ruin than hurt my sisters,” said Hugo. “But do you know what? I suspect that my wealth will make me socially acceptable even if I did drive a donkey cart with a monkey riding it and a pugdog on the seat beside me.”
“I’m a family man, too, Bottringham,” said another. “I’d do as much for my sisters.”
“Thank you, Birkfield,” said Hugo.
He lost a few cronies; but gained the support of the others.
He toasted them.
“Today, I have found out who my friends are, and who are the superficial fools who have clung to my coat tails,” he said.
“By the number of settings at the table, I suspect you had a shrewd idea who would fall into which camp,” said Birkfield.
Hugo gave a rueful smile.
“Well, I did make a few guesses as to that,” he agreed. “And I do not feel diminished for losing the dead wood.”
oOoOo
“So, you’re too much of a coward to drive in a phaeton, are you, Elvira?” sneered one of the girls, a Diana Elvingden, at a soirée Elvira attended.
“You know,” said Kitty, “I heard about a girl who panicked when a boat she was in, going to Eel Pie Island as part of a party, tipped a little, stood up, causing the boat to capsize, and proceeded to have hysterics in a channel four feet deep rather than just standing up. I wonder, Miss Elvingden, if you would be able to cope with a carriage going over a bridge into a river, having it fill with water, and then swim to safety in icy water dragging a wounded sister with you to save her life as well as your own? You couldn’t do it because you are afraid of water. You know, I respect that, and knowing it, if I was going with you to Eel Pie Island, I’d make sure there was a big, stable boat for you to go in, so you could feel safe. I fancy you’d like phaetons less if you’d ever been overturned.”
“Why, Mr. Ladbrock has never been overturned when taking me driving, in fact, he has overturned others!” said Miss Elvingden.
“So, you are an accessory to assault on the public highway, and possibly an accessory to murder,” said Elvira, angrily. “The piece of filth who was hunting the squirrel who killed my parents and nearly killed Sophie was never identified, but I’d give evidence about you boasting of it.”
Miss Elvingden tossed her head.
“It’s only a bit of fun,” she said.
“Oh, yes, the funeral of my parents and the destruction of my sister’s health were really good fun for us all,” said Elvira. “Kitty, let us go home. I don’t like the smell of bad manners here.”
“I don’t like the smell of a common felon,” said Kitty. “Which is what they call accessories to assault and murder.”
Miss Elvingden shrieked.
“How dare you say that!”
“How dare you go along with anyone who does that! How dare you consort with a common criminal!” cried Elvira.
“Girls! Girls! What is going on?” their hostess hurried over.
“Miss Elvingden admitted to aiding a common felon,” said Kitty.
“I did not! It’s just a bit of fun, seeing old people struggle with their coaches in the ditch!” shrieked Miss Elvingden. Elvira was sobbing.
“Her beau assaults people! He’s the sort of man who killed Mama and Papa!” she cried. “It isn’t fun, and it isn’t funny to tip people’s coaches off the road!”
“Oh, dear,” said the hostess. “One can’t stop men and their sport.”
“Well, someone should be able to,” said Kitty. “We’ll tell your brother, Elvira, and we’ll see what he has to say about it.”
“She’s right,” said her mother. “And the foolish girls who think that men who do this are sporting fellows are complicit with something beyond bad behaviour.” She was escorting the girls so Hugo could stay with Sophie, who was nervous about big social gatherings.
She walked to the Bottringham house with the girls. Here Hugo was sitting with Sophie and playing Commerce with her, and Elvira cast herself on him, and burst into tears.
“It should be a criminal matter,” said Hugo, once all was explained to him. “Do you know any specific instances?”
“I know she was boasting that Mr. Ladbrock had started courting her after I would not drive with him, and I saw them trotting out Hampstead way on Tuesday when we were walking in the park with Sophie,” said Elvira.
“Her footman was with them on the seat behind. He might testify,” said Kitty. “The one with the mole on his chin.” She made short work of sketching him for Hugo.
“There was a nasty accident on the Hampstead road, a clergyman and his wife tipped into the ditch,” said Hugo. “I wager the good parson could not miss that yellow equipage of Ladbrock’s. And Miss Elvingden will spill everything she knows if she thinks she is likely to go to gaol if she doesn’t.”
He set off to Bow Street.
It was almost two hours before he returned.
“The parson is prepared to testify, and he described Ladbrock’s favourite coat pretty well, and the girl beside him,” he said. “The footman was afraid, so I’ve offered him a job if he is turned off; he isn’t, after all, Ladbrock’s servant, and I pointed out it was protecting his lady to prevent her association with such people.”
The parson was prepared to testify, when Hugo said he would pick up any costs; explaining that such an act had killed his own parents. Hugo wanted a precedent made. [1]
The girls would not have to testify, as other people could give evidence of when the pair had driven out. Hugo left his sisters and Kitty together go give evidence, as an expert witness with knowledge of Ladbrock’s phaeton. The footman also gave evidence, emphasising his fear for his mistress, and stating that she did not really understand what she was doing. Miss Elvingden was tried as an accomplice, and had to face the parson whose wife had been left with two broken legs, and whose life had hung for a while in the balance. The silly girl broke down in tears and implicated Ladbrock thoroughly, to the relief of the magistrate. If she had said that she was unsure if they had clipped a wheel in overtaking, it would all have been over, but she sobbed how Mr. Ladbrock had boasted that he could tip the carriage off the road.
The jury were upright citizens, mostly below the class of Mr. Ladbrock, who were well aware what a nuisance such ‘sporting’ fellows might be, and they wanted an example made; the verdict was unanimously ‘guilty as charged,’ which was the charge of assault upon the common highway. The examining magistrate was unwilling to imprison or transport a fashionable young man, but Mr. Ladbrock was fined heavily and made to pay all the costs of doctors which had been incurred, and were likely to be incurred, and for a new carriage and horses, one of which had had to be shot.
He glowered at Hugo.
“Traitor!” he said.
“You are a traitor to your class, behaving like some common bullyruffian, not a gentleman; you give Corinthians a bad name. And how would you like it if someone served your grandfather similarly? Fond of him, ain’t you?” sneered Hugo.
Ladbrock went white.
“I shall have to sell my team,” he said. “I’d as soon you bought them. I’m sorry that horse had to be shot.”
“Apologise to your victim, not me,” said Hugo. “And yes, I’ll buy your team.”
There was some censure amongst those of the ton in the act of going against one of their own; but Hugo’s own set closed ranks, and were supported by the sporting gentlemen of the Four Horse Club, that whilst an accident could happen to anyone, hunting the squirrel was never the act of a true gentleman. In this, he also had the support of the Prince Regent, himself a keen driver, but no longer the young sportsman he had once been, and painfully aware that if he was out incognito, he might become the victim of some young blade wanting to laugh at a fat, middle-aged man in a ditch. Not that this thought was ever to be spoken; but the prince spoke to Hugo at a ball, and made sure to show that he was in favour.
Hugo hoped it would reduce the number of young fools acting without considering the consequences.
[1] I have been unable to find any prosecution made over causing death by dangerous driving, though it happened, likewise vehicular assault, but I have read in newspaper reports suggestions of prosecutions for causing accidents. Maybe it did not come under assault. I suspect part of it was young ‘sportsmen’ hanging together, but I think that with enough evidence, prosecution would have taken place.
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