Charity Girl

by Georgette Heyer

  'Take Wilfred's brat into the family?' he repeated, almost stunned.

  She patted his hand. 'Well, my lord here is in the right of it when he says it ain't her fault she's Wilfred's brat. I declare I feel downright sorry for her! And if it's expense you're thinking of, Nettle, I shouldn't wonder at it if she turned out to be an economy, because it wouldn't be an extra mouth to feed, for you know I paid off Betty before we left London, thinking it was a sinful waste of money to keep a girl just to mend the linen, and wash the chandeliers, and the best china, and lend old Lattiford a hand with the silver, and that. Mind you, it's a bigger waste of money keeping a butler that's as old and infirm as what he is, but you'd have to pension him off if you sent him packing, so while he can work it's best for us to keep him.'

  Nettlecombe, who had listened to her in gathering exaspera tion, said explosively: 'No, I tell you! I won't have her in my house!'

  'Allow me to set your mind at rest!' said Desford. 'You will most certainly not have her in your house, sir! I didn't help her to escape from one slavery only to pitchfork her into another!'

  He strode towards the door, ignoring a plea from my lady to wait. She followed him into the corridor, begging him not to take her lord's tetchiness amiss, and assuring him that he might rely on her to bring him round. 'The thing is,' she said earnestly, 'that he's out of sorts, poor dear gentleman, and no wonder, with all the kick-up there's been, thinking he was going to lose me, because that shabster, Jonas, had the impudence to set it about that I was setting my cap at him, which I never did, nor thought of ! All I thought of was to make him comfortable, which I promise you I did! What's more, I was the most saving house keeper he'd ever had! But when that Jonas took to saying I was a man-trap, and warning his pa against me – well ! I was obliged to tell his lordship I must leave at the term, because I've got my good name to think about, haven't I? So his lordship made me an Offer, which is all the good Master Jonas got out of trying to be rid of me!' She ended on a triumphant note, but as the Viscount was wholly unresponsive, tightened her hold on his sleeve, and said ingratiatingly: 'And as for making his grand-daughter a slave, you quite mistook my meaning, my lord! I'm sure I wouldn't ask her to do anything I wouldn't do myself – yes, and have done, times out of mind! Not that I was born to it, mind you! Oh, dear me, no! I often think my poor father would have turned in his grave if he'd lived to see the straits I was reduced to, him having been cheated out of his inheritance, like he was, and my First losing his fortune, and leaving me without a souse, which is why I was forced to earn my own bread as best I could. No one knows better than me what it means to step down from one's rightful station, so if you was thinking Miss Steane would be a servant in her grandpa's house you're quite beside the bridge, my lord! She'll have a good home, and not be asked to do anything any genteel girl wouldn't be expected to do to help her ma!'

  'You are wasting your breath, ma'am,' he replied, inexorably removing her hand from his sleeve, and continuing his progress towards the stairs.

  Baffled, she delivered a Parthian shot. 'At any hand,' she said shrilly, 'you can't say it was me that wouldn't offer the girl a home!'

  Ten

  For several minutes after he left Lord Nettlecombe's lodging the Viscount seethed with anger, but by the time he was halfway to the High town this had diminished, and the comical side of the late interview struck him, so forcibly that the sparkling look of wrath in his eyes vanished, and the hardened lines about his mouth relaxed. As he recalled some of the things which had been said he began to chuckle; and when he pictured the scenes which must have goaded Nettlecombe to marry the most economical housekeeper he had ever employed he found that he was within ames-ace of positively liking the vulgar creature.

  He wished very much that there was someone with him to share the joke: Hetta, for instance, whose sense of the ridiculous was as lively as his own. He would tell her all about it, of course, but recounting an absurd experience was not the same as sharing it. It was to be hoped she didn't make the mistake of marrying that prosy fellow whom he had found dangling after her at Inglehurst, for he wouldn't suit her at all: he was just the kind of slow-top to ask her in a puzzled voice what she meant when she made a joke. Come to think of it, none of Hetta's suitors – and, lord, how many of them there had been! – had ever seemed to him worthy of her: queer that such an intelligent girl should be unable to recognize at a glance men who were quite beneath her touch! Recalling her numerous suitors he could not bring to mind one whom he had liked. There had been several dead bores amongst them; at least two bladders, who never stopped gabbing ; and any number of men who were, in his opinion, very poor sticks indeed.

  These reflections had led his mind away from the immediate problem confronting him, but the recollection of it soon re curred, and put an end to any desire in him to laugh at the failure of his mission, or to speculate on the strange vagaries of females. A less determined man might have felt that he had been tipped a settler, and have thrown his towel into the ring, but the Viscount had a streak of strong determination running through his easy-going nature, and he had no intention of being beaten on this, or any other, suit. He had certainly suffered a set-back, so what he must now do was to think of some other way of providing for Cherry's future well-being. None immediately occurred to him. He wondered what she was doing, whether she was happy at Inglehurst, or whether she was too anxious to be happy; and realized with a slight sense of shock that it was now nine days since he had left her there.

  Had he but known it, Cherry was blissfully happy, and only now and then thought about her future. She had fitted into her surroundings as though she had lived at Inglehurst all her life; and she seemed to take as much pleasure in making herself useful to her hostesses as in the small parties Lady Silverdale gave to her neighbours. Indeed, Henrietta thought that she took more, for her disposition was retiring, and her shyness tied her tongue, so that when she was seated at the dinner-table beside a stranger her conversation was inclined to be monosyllabic. Henrietta ascribed this to Lady Bugle's treatment. She had relegated the poor child to the background, and had so systematically im pressed upon her that she was far less important than her cousins, and must never put herself forward as though she thought herself their equal, that it had become second nature to her. Henrietta hoped that she would overcome her almost morbid shrinking from strangers for such excessive shyness was, in her view, a handicap to any penniless female obliged to make her own way in the world. It was unfortunate, too, that she was noticeably more ill-at-ease with the various young gentlemen who visited the house than with their fathers. However, once she became acquainted with them she grew less self-conscious, and chatted to them quite naturally. With Sir Charles, and young Mr Beckenham, she was soon on friendly terms; but she treated Tom Ellerdine, who showed a disposition to make her the object of his youthful gallantry, with marked reserve. Henrietta could not help feeling that it was a pity.

  Lady Silverdale did not agree. 'For my part,' she said, 'I think her a very pretty-behaved girl. I own, my love, it quite astonishes me that she is not in the least pert, or coming, as so many girls are nowadays, for one never expected a Steane to be so well-conducted, and her mama was not at all the thing. Not that I ever knew her, because she eloped with Wilfred Steane out of the schoolroom, you know, which shows the most shocking want of delicacy, and just what one would expect in any sister of that Bugle woman!'

  'Dear Mama, I am perfectly ready to join you in abusing Lady Bugle, but that is going too far!' expostulated Henrietta laughingly. 'She is a horrid creature, but I'm persuaded that she is quite boringly respectable!'

  'Good gracious, Hetta, how you do take one up!' Lady Silverdale complained. 'You know very well what I mean! She's an excessively underbred woman, and that, you will allow, dear little Cherry is not! I think it remarkable that she shouldn't be, for we all know what the Steanes are like, and although I never heard anything said against the Wissets they did not move in the first circles. I believe old Mr Wisset was a
n attorney, or something of the sort. And when you consider that Cherry has had no other home than her aunt's house it has me in a puzzle to know how she came by her pretty, modest manners. She certainly cannot have learnt them from Amelia Bugle!'

  'No, I fancy she must have learnt them from Miss Fletching,' said Henrietta. 'From what Cherry has told me, she must be an excellent woman – and it is to Mr Wilfred Steane's credit that he placed Cherry in her school, even if he did forget to pay the bills!'

  'Well, it may be so,' acknowledged Lady Silverdale, reluctant to perceive any saving grace in Mr Wilfred Steane's character, 'but for my part I should rather suppose that he chose the first school that hit his eye. And I am much inclined to think that Cherry's manners spring from her disposition – so very amiable and obliging, and with such delicacy of principle! – than from any lesson Miss Fletching could have taught her. You know, dearest, how very rarely I take a fancy to anyone, but I own I have taken a strong fancy to Cherry, and shall miss her sadly when she leaves us. Indeed, if Nettlecombe refuses to adopt her, which wouldn't surprise me in the least, because he was always known to be as close as wax, and has become positively freakish of late years – I have a very good mind to keep her here!'

  Henrietta, who knew well, not how rarely her mama took fancies to people, but how frequently she did, and how inevitably she discovered that she had been mistaken in the character of her latest protégée, was startled into exclaiming: 'Handsomely over the bricks, Mama, I do beg of you! You have only known Cherry for a sennight!'

  'I have known her for nine days,' replied her ladyship, with dignity. 'And I must request you, Hetta, not to employ vulgar slang when you are talking to me! Or to anyone, for it is not at all becoming in you! I have not the remotest conjecture what handsomely over the bricks may signify, but I collect that you have heard Charlie say it, and I must tell you that you are very ill-advised to copy the things young men say.'

  'Oh, don't blame Charlie, ma'am!' Henrietta said, her eyes alight with laughter. 'It is what Desford says, when he thinks I am about to do something rash! But I should not have said it to you, and I beg your pardon! In – in unexceptionable language, I hope that you will consider carefully before you come to any decision about Cherry.'

  'Naturally I shall do so,' said Lady Silverdale. 'You may be sure of that !'

  Henrietta was anything but sure of it, but she said no more, knowing that few things were more likely to goad Lady Silverdale into precipitate action than opposition from herself. Upon reflection she realized that she ought to have been prepared for the announcement which had startled her into uttering the slang phrase which had offended her mama's chaste ears for she had watched Cherry winning more and more approval, and had several times heard Lady Silverdale say that she couldn't conceive how she had ever contrived to exist without 'our sweet little sunbeam'. Well, there was nothing surprising in that: still less was it surprising that Lady Silverdale should be enjoying Cherry's visit, for Cherry was always ready to do whatever her kind hostess wished, and happily ran errands, unravelled tangled embroidery silks, went for tediously slow walks with her round the gardens, accompanied her on sedate drives in her landaulette, read aloud to her, and listened with unfeigned interest to her store of very dull anecdotes. These duties had hitherto fallen to Henrietta's lot, and although she had performed them cheerfully they had bored her very much, and none of them more than listening to reminiscences which had been told her many times before, and reading aloud absurdly romantic and adventurous novels, for which form of literature Lady Silverdale had an incurable passion. But three days after Cherry's arrival at Inglehurst Henrietta contracted a slight cold, which made her throat too sore for reading aloud, and she had suggested that Cherry might take her place until she had recovered from her trifling indisposition. She had apologized to Cherry for saddling her with a task which she feared she would think abominably dull, but Cherry had said that indeed she wouldn't think it dull, and the wonder was that she didn't. At least, it seemed wonderful at the outset, but it was soon brought home to Henrietta that Cherry's literary taste exactly matched Lady Silverdale's. Never having been permitted by Miss Fletching to read novels, she was instantly entranced by the specimen Henrietta gave her, entering into all the hapless heroine's alarms, adoring the hero, hating the villain, uncritically accepting every extravagance of the plot, and eagerly discussing with Lady Silverdale how the story would end. Almost as absorbing did she find the Mirror of Fashion, a monthly periodical to which Lady Silverdale subscribed, and was ready to pore over it for as long as Lady Silverdale pleased. It had to be admitted that with all the advantages of a pretty face, engaging manners, and sweetness of disposition, one attri bute had been denied her: she was regrettably lacking in in tellect. Henrietta thought that when the ingenuousness of youth left her she would be as foolish as Lady Silverdale (though probably not as indolent), and a sad bore to any man of superior sense, for she was interested only in trivialities and domestic matters, and had very little understanding of wider issues. To Henrietta, who possessed considerable force of mind, this made her no more compan ionable than a small child would have been, but it suited Lady Silverdale admirably, and would possibly suit some other elderly and rather silly lady just as well. But what a bleak prospect for an affectionate girl, crying out to be loved and cherished! Henrietta sighed over it, but could see no other solution to the problem of her future, if Nettlecombe refused to acknowledge her. The realization that her mother had taken it into her head to keep Cherry with her seriously dismayed her. No dependence could be placed on Lady Silverdale's continuing to dote on the girl: at any moment she might take her in dislike; and even if she did not do that she would almost certainly find her an irksome burden when the family removed to London, which they always did in the spring, and she became engaged in too many social activities to have the smallest need of any other attendant than her dresser. In London, Cherry would inevitably be regarded as that tiresome Extra Female, the bane of all hostesses, and could count herself fortunate if the sudden indis position of one of the invited ladies led to her inclusion in some of her ladyship's dinner-parties. To suppose that Lady Silverdale's matchmaking instincts would prompt her to find a suitable husband for Cherry was to indulge fancy far beyond the bounds of probability: they were concentrated on her daughter, whose obstinate spinsterhood constituted almost the only flaw in her otherwise carefree existence. In a year or two she would no doubt be seeking a bride for her adored son, but at no time would she think it incumbent upon her to find a mate for Cherry.

  The thought of her brother caused Henrietta to feel a twinge of uneasiness. It had not occurred to Lady Silverdale that he might seek distraction in his enforced stay at Inglehurst by pursuing an à suivie flirtation with Cherry, but Henrietta laboured under no delusions about him, and she knew that he had begun to look far more favourably upon Cherry than when he had first seen her. He no longer spoke contemptuously of her as a snippety-thing, but had described her to at least two of Lady Silverdale's morning visitors as a taking little puss. Henrietta did not for a moment suppose that he had any serious intention in mind; and she had a shrewd suspi cion that Cherry's friendly manner towards him rose from a very proper wish to avoid offending the susceptibilities of his mother and sister, and not at all from a desire to encourage his advances. She had at first been very shy of him, but that, naturally, had worn off, as she became better acquainted with him, and it was not many days before she was able to take him very much for granted, behaving towards him with little more ceremony than she would have used towards an elder brother. She fetched and carried for him, and sought to divert him by playing cribbage and backgammon and draughts with him, or even such infantile games as span-counters, in which his superior skill was counterbalanced by his inability to use his right hand. She did these things because she was sorry for him, and anxious to help his mother and sister to keep him amused; but although she enjoyed playing such games and was young enough to be intent on proving herself a match for h
im, Henrietta did not think that she liked him very much. That made Henrietta sigh again. Not that she wanted Cherry to fall a victim to Charlie's lures, but she did wish that Cherry were not so in-different to every young man she met, for her indifference, coupled as it was with a tongue-tied shyness, did not make her appear to advantage. The only men with whom she was natural and at ease were nearly all of them old enough to have fathered her; or, if not quite so middle-aged, too old to be considered as possible suitors, at all events. She certainly liked Desford, but although in years he was only ten years her senior, in experience he was at least twenty years older; and Henrietta believed (and hoped) that she regarded him in the light of a protector, not as a possible suitor. Cary Nethercott, and Sir James Radcliffe had also won her liking, but both these kindly gentlemen were in their thirties, which was probably why she didn't retire into her shell when they came to Inglehurst, but chatted away to them in the most natural style imaginable. She even told Mr Nethercott all about the lurid romance she was reading to Lady Silverdale, when she was seated beside him at dinner one evening. Henrietta heard her doing it, and was moved to silent admiration of the goodnature which made him listen with apparent interest to the tangled story that was being described to him.

  As for Charlie, she had little doubt that if some dashing beauty were to come within his ken he would have no thoughts to spare for Cherry. Unfortunately, there were no dashing beauties living in the vicinity, and very few unattached young females of any description. Whether it was unfortunate that his particular cronies, none of whom hailed from Hertfordshire, were either disporting themselves at Brighton, or had retired to their parental homes in distant parts of the country, to recover from the ravages to their constitutions and purses caused by too many sprees, jollifications, and revelrouts, was a moot point. Lady Silverdale was for ever saying that if only two or three of his friends lived within visitingdistance they could have ridden over to entertain him; and she even went so far as to suggest to him that he should invite one of them to spend a week or two at Inglehurst. He spurned the notion, saying ungraciously that his friends would think it curst flat to be stuck down in the country with nothing to do all day, and nothing to enliven the evenings but short whist, or half-guinea commerce. Having uttered this disagreeable speech, he found that his sister had raised her eyes from her book and was steadily regarding him from under lifted brows. He coloured, and begged his mother's pardon, saying: 'I didn't mean to be uncivil, ma'am, but you don't understand how it is! I mean – oh, dash it, how could it be possible to invite anyone to visit me when I can't ride, or drive, or play billiards, or – or anything ?'