The Foundling by Georgette Heyer Read Free Book Online

decision to visit the Metropolis, a servant had been sent post to London, to warn his agent of his approaching arrival. The man had carried with him a letter addressed by Lord Lionel to one Captain Horace Belper, half-pay officer, desiring this gentleman to render his Grace all the advice and assistance of which he might be thought to stand in need, so that whatever plans the Duke might have entertained of escaping a visit from the Captain were foiled at the outset. He had been seen off by his uncle, his aunt, his Chaplain, and his old nurse. His aunt and his nurse had confined their parting counsel to reminders to him to take James's Powders on the least suspicion of internal disorder; to beware of damp socks, and over-rich foods; and not to hesitate to call in that eminent physician, Dr. Baillie of Grosvenor Street, if he should chance to take a chill. His Chaplain recommended him not to miss the opportunity of attending a forthcoming lecture at the Royal Society on Developments of the Nebular Hypothesis, recently advanced by the Marquis de Laplace. His uncle, having testily informed his other well wishers that no young man setting forth for London on a visit of pleasure wished to receive a clutter of such foolish advice, said that he was to beware of French hazard, not to play billiards except in select company, or roulette in any company at all, and to make a point of visiting his dentist.
    Fortified by this send-off, and aware that he had at least one person in his train who would do what lay in his power to persuade him to follow out all the more disagreeable orders laid upon him, the Duke left Sale Park, a prey to dejection, and a great many rebellious thoughts.
    For the first half of the journey, he indulged his fancy by forming several impossible schemes for shocking and confounding his relatives, but as soon as the absurdity of these struck him he began to be amused at himself, and his ill-humour, never very durable, lifted. He might chafe at his uncle's domineering ways, but he could not be angry with him. He thought it must indeed have been a wearing task to have reared such an unpromising specimen as himself, and for perhaps the hundredth time resolved that it should not be a thankless task as well. Lord Lionel might have been, in the past, a severe guardian; he might cling to strict, old-fashioned ideas, and insist on having these conformed to; he might often have been over-anxious, and have irked his ward with restrictions and prohibitions; but the Duke knew well that he had acted throughout on the highest principles, and had for him an affection perhaps as deep as for his own son. He had certainly taken far greater care of him, and shown him more partiality. It was Gideon who had received the blame for any boyish escapade—with a certain amount of justice, reflected the Duke, smiling to himself, as he recalled various instances of his elder and more enterprising cousin's exploits. Gideon was sent to Eton, but Lord Lionel dared not expose his sickly nephew to the rigours of public school life, and engaged for him a resident tutor, and any number of visiting instructors, from a French dancing-master to a Professor in the Art of Self-Defence. It had been solicitude, not mistrust, which had prompted him to send Gilly up to Oxford under the aegis of Mr. Romsey, and Gilly had most unfortunately taken a chill which (owing, his lordship was convinced, to neglect) had developed into an inflammation of the lungs which had nearly carried him off. There could be no question after that of sending him up to Oxford alone.
    Only his obstinate conviction that no gentleman who had not spent a few years on the Continent could be considered to be more than half-educated had prevailed upon Lord Lionel to take the hazardous risk of exposing his nephew, upon his coming down from Oxford, to the dangers of travel. But the long war with France having terminated in the glorious battle of Waterloo (in which action Gideon had sustained a