False Colours

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False Colours Page 32

by Georgette Heyer


  The swift change in his expression betrayed the difference that lay between his own mercurial temperament and Kit’s more evenly balanced one. The frown of fretting anxiety vanished; a zestful gleam, compound of recklessness and amusement, heightened the brilliance of his eyes; he burst out laughing. ‘You were right, love!’ he told his mother. ‘I would! In a crack!’ He threw a challenging look at the Dowager. ‘You might as well blame my brother for drawing breath as for coming to my rescue, ma’am: he couldn’t help himself! Nor could I! But he, if I know him, took my place that evening only for that reason, and with extreme reluctance; whereas I, standing in his shoes, should have had no reluctance whatsoever! I don’t know that I should have carried it off as well as he must have done, but I should certainly have enjoyed the fling, which he, even more certainly, did not!’

  ‘No doubt!’ she retorted. ‘It didn’t need your uncle Brumby to tell me that your brother’s worth a dozen of you, young man!’

  ‘Oh, anyone could have told you that, ma’am!’ he said cheerfully. ‘Indeed, I know of only two persons who would deny so obvious a truth: Kester himself, and my mother – who considers us both to be above criticism! Well, we are not, but you may believe, Lady Stavely, that neither he nor I would have entered into this particular hoax had we known that it would ever become known, or that we should be obliged to maintain the imposture! My brother presented himself to you that evening in the belief that either I had forgotten the date of the engagement, or had been delayed by some hitch, or accident, and must surely reappear at any moment. In fact, I had suffered an accident which knocked me senseless for days. When I did recover consciousness, and realized that the date of my engagement was past, I thought I must have ruined myself, and – to own the truth! – I was too pulled and battered to care! Had I known that my brother was in England, and desperately trying to save my face – but I didn’t know it, until I saw the notice in the newspaper! By that time he had not only been forced to keep up the pretence – which, once having entered into, he couldn’t abandon without, as he believed, serving me the worst possible turn – but he had fallen in love with Cressy, and she with him. But what I wish you will understand, ma’am, is that at the outset he had no other thought than to save my face!’

  ‘And mine!’ Cressy interpolated. ‘That thought also was in his mind, and in Godmama’s mind too, and whatever the outcome I should have been grateful to them for sparing me the humiliation I must have suffered had he not presented himself in your stead that evening!’

  ‘Very noble!’ said the Dowager. She added, in the querulous tone of a very old lady rapidly approaching exhaustion: ‘I don’t want to hear any more of your glib-tongued pittle-pattle! Find a way out of this abominable scrape that won’t set every tongue wagging, and Cressy may marry your brother with my goodwill! And that’s my last word!’

  ‘Well, if that’s so, a way must be found!’ said Evelyn. ‘But the only way I can see is for Kester to continue to be me, and for me to be him!’

  The Dowager threw him a contemptuous glance; Cressy laughed; and Sir Bonamy paid no heed. But Lady Denville said earnestly: ‘No, no, dearest, that would never do! Only think how awkward it would be for you in Vienna, trying to make everyone believe you were Kit, when I daresay you don’t know anything about foreign affairs, or even who anyone is!’

  ‘For heaven’s sake, don’t be such a widgeon!’ snapped the Dowager, quite exasperated. ‘And if you can think of nothing better to do in this pass, Denville, than to cut silly jokes –’

  ‘Not at all!’ said Evelyn incorrigibly. ‘Kester could perform his part without the least difficulty, but Mama is far from being a widgeon! She has detected, in a flash, the flaw in my scheme! I had never the least turn for politics –’

  ‘Or I,’ interposed Kit, getting up, ‘for the management of estates!’ He came forward, and said, addressing himself to the Dowager: ‘May I make a suggestion, ma’am? I know how tired you must be, but – but I think it just possible that there is a way out of the tangle.’

  ‘Ah!’ breathed Cressy, raising her eyes to his in a glowing look of confidence. ‘I knew you would find it – oh, I knew it, my dearest dear!’

  Twenty-two

  Well, it’s to be hoped he has!’ said the Dowager irascibly.

  ‘But of course he has!’ said Evelyn, shocked by her evident want of faith in his twin’s ingenuity. ‘Go on, Kester! Tell us!’

  Kit could not help laughing, but he coloured a little, and said: ‘I will, but I’m afraid the scheme I have in mind is pretty make-shift. I think it covers all the difficulties, but I may have left something out of account: the devil of it is there are so many of them!’ He glanced round the circle. ‘Well – it seems to me that the most urgent need is to restore Evelyn to his rightful position. That can’t be accomplished here, but I see no reason for him to bury himself in Leicestershire: he need go no further than to Hill Street. Brigg won’t suspect anything, for he’s a great deal too shortsighted; and I fancy Dinting won’t either, because I took good care to keep out of her way when I was in Hill Street myself.’

  ‘What about my shoulder?’ interrupted Evelyn.

  ‘How are the London servants to know when, or how, you broke it? They do know here, so you’ll overturn that phaeton of yours tomorrow, on your way to London – which will account for your arrival in a hired chaise.’

  ‘Now, hold a minute, Kester!’ said Evelyn. ‘What the devil should I be doing, jauntering up to London, when I’m known to be entertaining guests here? Dash it, even my uncle wouldn’t believe I was as freakish as that!’

  ‘You are going up to London to meet me, twin. I shall send Challow to fetch the letters from the receiving-office tomorrow, and he will bring me a packet-letter from myself. Whereupon Mama will be cast into transports, and I – faithfully imitating your well-known impetuosity, Eve! – shall set out for London in your curricle, taking Challow with me, and picking you up at Pinny’s cottage. There you’ll take his place – and we’ll hope to God we can get to East Grinstead without anyone’s recognizing you!’

  ‘I’ll keep my hat over my eyes, and wind a muffler round my chin,’ promised Evelyn. ‘What’s the significance of East Grinstead?’

  ‘Well, you don’t ever stop for a change there, do you?’

  ‘What, a bare six or seven miles from here? No, of course I don’t!’

  ‘So however well they may know you at the toll-gate, they don’t know you at the posting-houses. I propose to leave the curricle at one of them, and to accomplish the rest of the journey in a job-chaise. Challow will have to walk to East Grinstead as soon as it begins to get dark, and drive the curricle up to London tomorrow. Fimber will follow us, with your baggage: no difficulty about that! I must remember to ask him where he deposited my own baggage, by the bye. You’ll set me down, when we get to London, and arrive in solitary state in Hill Street, where, in due course, I also shall arrive – in a hack, having, for some inscrutable reason, journeyed up from the coast on the stage-coach.’

  ‘Not the stage: the Mail!’ interrupted Cressy.

  ‘Yes, that’s much better!’ Kit agreed. ‘Thank you, love!’

  ‘And then?’ she asked.

  ‘I must see your father, and disclose the truth to him. If I can persuade him to pardon the deception, and to give his consent to our marriage, I think I can contrive to turn the affair into an unexceptionable romance. If not –’ He stopped, and said, after a moment: ‘I don’t know, Cressy, and can’t bring myself to face that possibility!’

  ‘Well, that don’t signify!’ said the Dowager, who had been listening to him intently. ‘He’ll consent fast enough when he learns that I do!’

  ‘May I tell him that, ma’am?’

  ‘I said you might marry Cressy with my goodwill, if you could find a way out of this scrape without setting tongues wagging, and I’m a woman of my word! How
do you mean to do it?’

  He smiled. ‘I don’t, ma’am: it would be a task quite beyond my capability!’

  ‘Beyond anyone’s, my boy,’ said Sir Bonamy. ‘There’s bound to be a deal of talk: no getting away from that!’

  ‘None at all, sir. The only thing to be done is to sell the world a bargain! – I beg your pardon, ma’am! – to publish a Banbury story, which the tattle-boxes may discuss to their hearts’ content without doing any of us an ounce of harm.’

  ‘Another of your hoaxes, eh? I thought as much!’ said the Dowager, eyeing him with a certain grim respect.

  ‘The last one, I promise you!’ he said. ‘And only with your approval, ma’am!’

  ‘You’ve as much effrontery as your brother!’ she told him. ‘Out with it!’

  ‘Yes, ma’am! Little though any of you may know it, my love for Cressy is of long standing. I met her when I was last in England, and formed an enduring passion for her, which, however, I – er – kept locked in my breast!’

  ‘Why?’ demanded Cressy, blinking in bewilderment.

  ‘I knew my case to be hopeless. Your father would not have entertained my suit, nor did I feel that my circumstances were such as would enable me to support you in the style to which you were accustomed.’

  ‘You were modest, weren’t you?’ said Evelyn.

  ‘Certainly I was! Noble, too, don’t you think?’

  ‘No,’ replied Evelyn frankly. ‘Buffleheaded!’

  ‘Dear one, Evelyn is perfectly right!’ said Lady Denville. ‘You couldn’t have been such a goose! Depend upon it, everyone must know that you came into a comfortable fortune when your father died!’

  ‘Let the boy alone!’ commanded the Dowager. ‘Stavely thought it not large enough: I’ll attend to that! Go on!’

  ‘I’m much obliged to you, ma’am! Well, I withdrew, never dreaming that my passion was reciprocated, and that I was dashing Cressy’s hopes to the ground.’

  ‘Oh, Kit, no!’ Cressy uttered imploringly. ‘Don’t tell me I hadn’t the wit to throw out even one lure!’

  ‘No, no!’ he assured her. ‘You had too much maidenly reserve to do so! And far too much pride to let anyone suspect your secret. You resolutely thrust me out of your mind.’

  ‘No, I didn’t: I wondered if Evelyn wouldn’t suit me just as well. After all, he’s as like you as he can stare!’

  ‘That’s an even better notion,’ said Kit approvingly. ‘We now arrive at the point where we stand on unassailable ground. My godfather died, leaving his entire fortune to me. I built the whole story round that circumstance, because it is precisely what did happen! Naturally, this altered the complexion of the affair. I came home, full of hope, to find you on the brink of becoming betrothed to my brother. We met, our feelings were too strong to be mastered, and either Evelyn discovered us locked in a fond embrace, or we disclosed our touching story to him – whichever you fancy, Eve! – whereupon he too succumbed to an attack of nobility, and gracefully retired from the lists.’

  ‘Only if I can also have too much pride to let anyone suspect my secret!’ stipulated Evelyn. ‘Not even for you am I going to languish with a broken heart, Kester!’

  Sir Bonamy, who had listened in rapt interest to the tale, said: ‘Well, if ever I knew you had it in you, Kit! Why, I shouldn’t wonder at it if you could write a book, or a play, or some such thing!’ He perceived, with faint surprise, that Cressy had collapsed into helpless giggles. ‘I’m bound to say I don’t see what there is to laugh at: in my opinion you made a dashed moving thing of it, my boy! You know, Amabel, I begin to think he’ll go a long way after all!’

  ‘I know he will!’ she responded proudly. ‘I’ve frequently told you that Kit was always equal to anything!’

  Kit’s lips twitched at these tributes, but he was looking at the Dowager. ‘Will it do, ma’am?’

  She was not attending, and vouchsafed no answer. He waited; and after a short interval she said abruptly: ‘I’ll write to Stavely: no sense in leaving anything to chance! You’ll give the letter to him, and take care he reads it! I never in my life listened to a sicklier, stupider story, but, from what I’ve seen of you, all you would do, if I was to tell you I wouldn’t have it, would be to think of something even more outrageous! Cressy, you may give me your arm! I’m going to bed, for I’m fagged to death!’ She bade the assembled company a cursory good night, but informed Kit, holding open the door for her, that she would thank him not to get himself hanged while she was still alive, and able to feel the shame of being connected with a gallows-bird. After that, she allowed him to kiss her hand, and withdrew, leaning heavily on Cressy’s arm.

  ‘Kester, if you do indeed mean to spread this story, we must give it a new touch! You could no more tell it as it stands than I could. Anyone who knows us would guess we were cutting a sham!’

  ‘Good God, we aren’t going to spread it!’ replied Kit. ‘That’s the last thing we should do, if it happened to be true! There’s no need to dress it up. We have only to put Fimber and Challow in possession of the bare bones of it, and leave them to tell it as they please. Give Challow half-an-hour amongst his cronies at the Running Footman, and I’ll lay you any odds you like that there’ll be upwards of a dozen garbled versions spreading all over London within a day! Lord, how many times has Challow favoured you with a choice morsel of gossip? If Stavely consents to Cressy’s marriage, he’ll be only too glad to adopt the story; and I don’t mean to tell Mama what sort of touch to give it!’

  ‘Oh, no!’ agreed Lady Denville. ‘I know just how I shall tell it, if anyone ventures to ask me any questions, when the advertisement of the engagement appears! Of course, only my particular friends will venture, but I know one who will, and it doesn’t matter a rush if not another soul does!’

  ‘For my part,’ said Sir Bonamy firmly, ‘I shall say I ain’t on the high gab!’

  ‘That’s the ticket, sir!’ said Kit, grinning at him. ‘Give ’em a set-down!’

  ‘Yes, but do you think it might give people quite a wrong notion?’ suggested Lady Denville. ‘Could you, perhaps, say that it is a – a most touching romance?’

  ‘I might do that,’ conceded Sir Bonamy, having subjected the proposition to careful consideration.

  ‘What do you think Evelyn should say, Kit?’ asked her ladyship anxiously.

  ‘Nothing whatsoever!’ he replied.

  ‘That’s fortunate!’ remarked his twin.

  ‘All Evelyn has to do,’ said Kit, answering the doubtful question in her ladyship’s eyes, ‘is to behave exactly as he would if the story were true! Poker up, assume an air of distant civility, look down his nose – You know what he is when he gets on his high ropes, Mama!’

  ‘And how, you uppish Jack-in-the-pulpit, do you mean to answer the curious?’ inquired Evelyn.

  ‘If it please your lordship – or even if it doesn’t! –’ retorted Kit, ‘I shan’t be obliged to answer them, because by the time the news is out, I shall be in Vienna! Now, don’t eat me! Before I make good my escape, I am going to divulge my apocryphal story to the person for whose benefit it was principally designed. And if you imagine, Eve, that –’ He broke off, as the door opened, and looked quickly round.

  But it was Cressy who came into the room, and, as she told him, only to bid him goodnight, and to tell him that she had left the Dowager chuckling. ‘I said I was positive you would make a stir in the world, and that’s what set her off: she said she hadn’t a doubt you would, and fell into such a fit of choking that I was in the greatest dread that it would carry her off! Kit, only a Fancot could have fabricated such a story! Of all the – No, I will not start laughing again!’ Her hands were clasped in his, and her slender fingers tightened. ‘When shall I see you again?’ she asked, looking up into his face.

  ‘Tomorrow, love,’ he answered, smiling tenderly down at her.
>
  ‘Ah, yes, but after that?’

  ‘As soon as I can contrive it. That’s something I must discuss with your father. If the abominable Albinia could be cajoled into thinking she would enjoy a trip abroad – But we won’t pin our hopes to that chance! Stewart, I’m persuaded, would give me leave in August.’

  She said, resolutely smiling: ‘Not so very long, then! We shall leave for Worthing almost immediately. I suppose, you couldn’t – No, of course not!’

  He shook his head. ‘I’ve still something to do, love, and I’ve lingered too long already.’

  ‘Cressy, my dear, forgive me if I run away!’ interposed Lady Denville. ‘I have suddenly remembered that I have something most important I must say to Evelyn, before he goes back to Pinny!’

  Evelyn, instantly and accurately interpreting this as an excuse hurriedly conjured up to leave Kit alone with his prospective bride, responded without hesitation. Sir Bonamy was a little harder to move, but it was not long before he grasped that her ladyship was trying to convey a silent message to him, and no time at all, after that, before complete enlightenment dawned upon him. ‘Oh!’ he said, hoisting himself to his feet: ‘Yes, yes, my pretty! To be sure! I’ll bid you goodnight, my dear Miss Stavely! It’s been a tiring day, you know – devilish tiring!’

  ‘Yes, indeed!’ said Kit, perceiving that his love was once more in dire straits. ‘Eve, wait for me!’

  ‘Why, Kester, of course! What’s an hour to me? Don’t hesitate to wake me if I should happen to have fallen asleep!’ responded his twin, strategically retiring in Sir Bonamy’s wake, and closing the door behind him.

  It was not, however, many minutes before Kit joined him. ‘Hell-hound!’ Kit said, entirely without rancour. ‘Eve, I racked my brains to hit upon a way to speed your affair, but it can’t be done! The only way to enable us to get there with both feet is for me to marry Cressy before you allow my uncle even to know that Miss Askham exists.’

 

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