The Correspondence of Mr Humphrey Pars
17th December 1772
PRIVATE CORRESPONDENCE
Devereaux Court
London
17th December 1772
Mr Ozias Pars
Marsh Cottage
Saltford
My dear Ozias,
Doubtless you will be surprised to find me still languishing in the capital. I assure you the delay is not of my making. My so-called mistress continues to dally and fritter away my master’s fortune on this Frenchified lace or that fur muff – and she is not ashamed to charge bills at five, ten or even twenty guineas for such fripperies.
My lodgings suit me very ill. My chamber is large but thick with dust, my bed is damp, and the chimney smokes from lack of attention. Mr Quentin Tyrone may be rich, but he is a queer unwholesome creature and I avoid his company. He employs an overseer to tend his business (the importation of eastern stuffs, inherited from his late father) and spends his nights at nanny houses and those oriental hummums where I believe a bath is but a small part of the transaction. He is a rotund, bald specimen, much given to embroidered caps and a stained sort of morning gown in the Chinese style. There is something soft about his manners that a proper man can only abhor. As to the other member of the household, her brother is a shiftless youth with a hangdog expression and high taste in gold coats.
Of London itself, the crowds and uproar are most incredible and the coal smoke so thick that one’s outpourings of phlegm are quite sooty black. To attend the theatre is to place oneself in a tumult ten times worse than Chester Fair. Oranges are sold at sixpence (each!) and these are used as missiles from one part of the theatre to the next. As to the foppish appearance of the playgoers – like the boy Tyrone, the young men outdo the ladies in glitter and musk. Why, even I was asked at the barbers if I would have my hair frowzled in hot irons!
Having assiduously avoided the rest of the household by taking my dinner at a respectable chop house (for the fare at Devereaux Court is worse than any Northern poorhouse) I believed I should have no new information to give you on this harlot and her schemes. However, being one day somewhat weary after walking out all morning, I chose to take my tea by the fire in the salon, believing the house to be otherwise deserted. After a rogue of a servant had served me weak tea (without even a slice of bread and butter) I settled down in my chair to draw up a memorandum of my next day’s visits.
Not long afterwards, I heard voices belonging to Lady Carinna and her uncle from the next room. I shall endeavour to set down verbatim the conversation I had the liberty to overhear:
‘But Carinna, are you dealing fair?’ said the uncle in his low-bred wheeze. ‘If you travel anywhere it should be to your husband’s side.’
‘I will not go to him. I told you, he refuses to see me.’
‘What then is the lure of Italy? Meeting a lover, eh? If so, you must be devilish careful.’
To which the niece replied in a weary and sarcastic voice, ‘For goodness’ sake Uncle, is that all you think of? And I know to be careful.’
‘Then why go?’
‘I am unwell, Uncle. Have I not suffered enough in performing this pantomime to finally earn my reward? As if you care! You promised me once that as a married, titled woman I might live freely. And that is what I intend to do.’
‘This sickness of yours,’ he said slowly. ‘You ain’t breeding, eh?’
‘How I wish I was.’
‘Because if you were—’
‘I know. All would be settled.’
‘You did swear to me, the marriage was consummated?’
‘I told you, didn’t I? It is not an event I wish to revisit.’
The old rogue chuckled. This was met by silence, then her heavy sigh.
‘The truth is, Sir Geoffrey and I cannot bear sight of each other. And Uncle dear,’ she said in a most pleading manner, ‘I have followed what you said, to the letter. Whenever have I asked for a favour?’
‘I am not easy when matters get tangled. You and your husband parted on ill terms. What if he recovers and makes enquiries?’
‘Tell him I am abroad for my health.’ She sighed in exasperation. ‘I do not think he will even enquire. I save his face. He can write to me at the villa if he chooses.’
‘Yes, the villa. If you said you needed a season in Rome or at Spa I could comprehend it. But it’s a fearfully quiet place.’
‘How pleasant that sounds. So, do you have the key?’
‘No, it is Carlo who keeps the key. You must call on him to collect it.’
‘Surely not? You must have your own key?’
‘I have not. You must call upon Carlo. I will write and tell him to expect you. Don’t look like that. Collect it or sleep in a ditch.’
‘Well, I will not spend a minute longer in his low foreign company than is necessary.’
Tyrone laughed. ‘He is a person of quite beautiful manners. I confess it will be a considerable effort for you to rise to his level.’
‘He will be another filthy old man, I am sure of it.’
‘Confess it, then. You have an assignation,’ he accused in a jocular manner. ‘Carlo will respect that.’
A sudden crash of splintered glass reached my ears, followed by Carinna’s shriek. ‘Damn you, look what you have made me do! I can bear no more of this.’
To my dismay, I heard the rustle of her gown moving directly towards me. Fearing discovery, I dropped my head to my chest and shut my eyes, feigning sleep. I do not believe she even saw me, for I heard her uncle call out ‘Carinna!’ from the drawing room in a tone of admonishment. She was so close to me I heard her huff of breath. She must have been just behind me, my figure hidden only by the large chair.
‘I will do as you bid,’ she cried out sourly. Then in a very low whisper, added with vicious feeling, ‘Whoremonger!’
In a moment she had gone and I was alone. After some time I made mimicry of stretching, and climbed the stairs to my chamber, quite unseen and mightily pleased with this intelligence gleaned from the enemy’s camp.
Now what make you of that, my tender brother? Perhaps the girl intends a rendezvous with some young buck? It is a villainous affair, so much is certain.
Alas the candle burns low and tomorrow we leave for the Kentish ports. Her so-called Ladyship has at last settled on leaving, and there is much to attend to. I shall write ere we sail for France.
Wish me strength and health for the journey ahead,
I remain always, your diligent brother,
Humphrey Pars