The Lady In Red: An Eighteenth-Century Tale Of Sex, Scandal, And Divorce by Hallie Rubenhold Page A
Authors: Hallie Rubenhold
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consider and the stakes so perilously high Captain Bisset and Lady Worsley decided to take their chances together. The headiness of romantic love alone guided their instincts. In the early weeks of November, Bisset began laying the groundwork for their escape. His plan was for a sudden flight to London when Sir Richard least expected it. Once there, the couple would lie low and await the baronet’s response. For this they would need a liaison in the capital, a trustworthy mediator who would manage their communication with Worsley and defend their interests. George William Coventry, Viscount Deerhurst, ‘a particular and intimate friend’ of Bisset and Lady Worsley’s, was the gentleman he had in mind. The rakish Deerhurst, no stranger to illicit dalliances, had been a confidant of the captain’s since the two matriculated at Christ Church, Oxford. He had also been privy to the clandestine attachment between his friend and Lady Worsley for some time. Sympathy for the lovers’ predicament combined with an acquired dislike of Sir Richard made him an amenable ally. The Viscount had even offered to arrange a safe house where the pair could shelter: the Royal Hotel on Pall Mall. With the preparations in order, the couple need only wait for opportunity’s signal.
Sir Richard’s cousin, Captain Thomas Worsley had come from his lodgings at the White Hart Inn for Sunday dinner on the 18th of November. The three were still seated at the table as the afternoon sun began to flicker out on the horizon. The baronet’s new butler, a local man of considerable experience named Francis Godfrey, hovered in the dining room, lighting candles. As it had taken some time to replenish their household with servants, this was only Godfrey’s second day in employment and he was eager to please his master and mistress. Glasses were refilled and plates cleared at regular intervals. He kept an attentive eye on the party’s needs.
Dressed in her ‘scarlet regimental riding habit’ Lady Worsley listened politely to the patter of conversation between her husband and his relation. Thomas Worsley was a man of few words and Sir Richard was contending with a heavy cold. They were to pass the remainder of the early evening together and later cross the road for a gathering hosted by Richard Leversuch and his wife for ‘the married officers and their ladies’. At about seven, Seymour excused herself from the gentlemen’s company in order to prepare for the party. Mary Sotheby assisted her out of her rumpled day clothing and buttoned her into a fresh brown riding habit which she paired with a blue hat embellished with a profusion of brown and white feathers. Once laced in and
powdered sufficiently, she rang for Francis Godfrey to ‘light her across the road to Leversuch’s’.
Neither Sir Richard nor his cousin, who had removed themselves to the sitting room, noticed Lady Worsley slip out the door. ‘Tell the cook that neither I nor Sir Richard shall sup at home,’ she instructed the butler. It was understood that the gentlemen would be joining her later, but as the hours pressed on, the baronet’s worsening cold pushed him back into the depths of his comfortable chair.
At about ten, his cousin suggested that they join the party at Leversuch’s, but Sir Richard ‘being rather indisposed’ waved Captain Worsley on, asking him to ‘send his excuses’ and explain that he had ‘gone to bed early … to endeavour to get rid of his cold’. He requested a draft of ‘sack whey’, an eighteenth-century cure-all and afterwards disappeared into his bedchamber.
By the time Captain Worsley appeared in the Leversuch’s drawing room, the surgeon and his wife had been entertaining a small gathering for a number of hours. Among the guests was Captain Bisset, who had placed himself attentively at Seymour’s side. In spite of gossip, Lady Worsley and her lover understood when to exercise restraint. Indeed nothing that night, their host was later to
Sir Richard’s cousin, Captain Thomas Worsley had come from his lodgings at the White Hart Inn for Sunday dinner on the 18th of November. The three were still seated at the table as the afternoon sun began to flicker out on the horizon. The baronet’s new butler, a local man of considerable experience named Francis Godfrey, hovered in the dining room, lighting candles. As it had taken some time to replenish their household with servants, this was only Godfrey’s second day in employment and he was eager to please his master and mistress. Glasses were refilled and plates cleared at regular intervals. He kept an attentive eye on the party’s needs.
Dressed in her ‘scarlet regimental riding habit’ Lady Worsley listened politely to the patter of conversation between her husband and his relation. Thomas Worsley was a man of few words and Sir Richard was contending with a heavy cold. They were to pass the remainder of the early evening together and later cross the road for a gathering hosted by Richard Leversuch and his wife for ‘the married officers and their ladies’. At about seven, Seymour excused herself from the gentlemen’s company in order to prepare for the party. Mary Sotheby assisted her out of her rumpled day clothing and buttoned her into a fresh brown riding habit which she paired with a blue hat embellished with a profusion of brown and white feathers. Once laced in and
powdered sufficiently, she rang for Francis Godfrey to ‘light her across the road to Leversuch’s’.
Neither Sir Richard nor his cousin, who had removed themselves to the sitting room, noticed Lady Worsley slip out the door. ‘Tell the cook that neither I nor Sir Richard shall sup at home,’ she instructed the butler. It was understood that the gentlemen would be joining her later, but as the hours pressed on, the baronet’s worsening cold pushed him back into the depths of his comfortable chair.
At about ten, his cousin suggested that they join the party at Leversuch’s, but Sir Richard ‘being rather indisposed’ waved Captain Worsley on, asking him to ‘send his excuses’ and explain that he had ‘gone to bed early … to endeavour to get rid of his cold’. He requested a draft of ‘sack whey’, an eighteenth-century cure-all and afterwards disappeared into his bedchamber.
By the time Captain Worsley appeared in the Leversuch’s drawing room, the surgeon and his wife had been entertaining a small gathering for a number of hours. Among the guests was Captain Bisset, who had placed himself attentively at Seymour’s side. In spite of gossip, Lady Worsley and her lover understood when to exercise restraint. Indeed nothing that night, their host was later to
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