The Unknown Ajax

by Georgette Heyer

  ‘I’ll have no such infernal foppery in my house!’ declared his lordship. ‘Good God, that any grandson of mine should find nothing better to do than to spend his time thinking what extravagant folly he can next commit!’

  ‘My dear sir, you are blaming the innocent!’ said Vincent. ‘The guilty person is Thingwall: the Trig-and-Trim dandy, you know. That’s one of his tricks. It is the tragedy of Claud’s life that he has never yet been able to hit upon a new quirk of fashion, but is always obliged to copy other men.’

  ‘Well, you needn’t sneer!’ retorted Claud, flushing. ‘You only started driving pickaxe in the Park because Brading did so!’

  ‘Not at all, brother. Brading followed my lead.’

  ‘That’s enough, that’s enough!’ interposed Matthew, removing the snuff-jar from Claud’s reach, and pushing it towards Hugo. ‘Help yourself, if you like this sort!’

  ‘Nay, I don’t take it,’ Hugo said. ‘I’d rather blow a cloud, which is a habit I got into in Spain.’

  ‘It is not a habit you will indulge in here!’ said Lord Darracott. ‘Smoking is a filthy and a disgusting misuse of tobacco: intolerable!’

  ‘Well, I was never one to beat squares,’ said Hugo equably. ‘I’ll smoke my cigars in the garden, and that road we won’t fratch.’

  ‘Won’t do what?’ asked Claud, interested.

  ‘Fratch – quarrel! It’s what we say in Yorkshire,’ explained Hugo.

  ‘Possibly not in the first circles, however, so don’t copy it, Claud,’ said Vincent coldly. ‘Permit me to point out to you, cousin, that you are chased.’

  Hugo, finding the port at his elbow, begged pardon, filled his glass, and passed the decanter on, his demeanour one of unruffled amiability.

  Five

  Breakfast at Darracott Place was not served until eleven o’clock, early risers being obliged to sustain nature until that hour on a cup of chocolate and a slice of bread-and-butter, brought to their bedchambers. The custom was not an unusual one; in many country houses of ton noon was the appointed hour for the first meal of the day; but to a soldier, accustomed to much earlier hours, it was both strange and unacceptable. Major Darracott, awaking betimes from a night of untroubled repose, thrust back the curtains that shrouded the four-poster in which he lay, and pulled his watch from under the pillows. The tidings it conveyed were unwelcome enough to make him utter a despairing groan, and sink back, resolutely closing his eyes in an attempt to recapture sleep. After spending half-an-hour in this barren endeavour, he abandoned it, linked his hands under his head, and lay for a time with his eyes fixed abstractedly on the line of light seeping through the join of the curtains drawn across the windows, and his mind roving over the events of the previous evening. What he thought of them no spy could have guessed, for even in solitude his countenance afforded no clue to whatever thoughts might be revolving behind the blankness of his eyes. There was something rather bovine about its immobility: Vincent had already told his grandfather that he lived in momentary expectation of seeing his ox-like cousin chew the cud.

  It had been a daunting evening, judged by any standards. When the gentlemen had risen from the dining-table, Vincent had challenged Richmond to a game of billiards, and Richmond, instantly accepting the challenge, had gone off with him, his quick flush betraying his gratification. The rest of the male company had gone upstairs to join the ladies in the long drawing-room, his lordship having apparently decided that even an evening spent amongst females was preferable to one spent alone, or closeted with his son in the library. Only two females were discovered in the drawing-room. Mrs Darracott, inviting Hugo to a chair beside her own, explained, a little nervously, that Anthea had the head-ache, and had gone to bed. It seemed for an instant as though my lord would have uttered some blistering censure, but although his brow was black he refrained, with what was plainly an effort, from making any comment. Seating himself in a wing-chair, he fell into conversation with his son, while Lady Aurelia, who had abandoned her tatting for some tapestry-work, handed Claud a tangle of coloured wools, and desired him, with much the air of one providing a child with a simple puzzle, to unravel the various strands. He was perfectly ready to oblige her, and even, having subjected her work to a critical scrutiny, to offer her some very good advice on the accomplishment of the design.

  Mrs Darracott, meanwhile, was doing what lay within her power to make Hugo feel at home, considerably hampered by the knowledge that his lordship, lending only half an ear to Matthew, was listening to all that was said.

  What my lord had learned by this means had not been very much, but one piece of information he had gleaned which had put him into a better temper: Hugo seemed to have no maternal relations living – or, at all events, none of whom he took account. His grandfather, he told Mrs Darracott, in reply to her sympathetic question, had been dead for several years; he supposed, rather vaguely, that there were those who could call cousins with him, but the connection must of necessity be remote. No, he didn’t think he had ever met them; the only member of his mother’s family whom he remembered was Great-aunt Susan, who had been used to live with them when he was a child. She had been a spinster, but he thought Grandfather had had other sisters.

  Lord Darracott was so much cheered by this that he had presently asked Hugo if he played chess. Upon Hugo’s replying doubtfully that he knew what the moves were but hadn’t played since he was a boy, he had said bluntly: ‘You couldn’t give me a game, then. What can you play? Piquet? Backgammon?’

  ‘Ay, or whist,’ offered Hugo.

  ‘Play whist, do you?’ said his lordship. ‘Very well, I’ll try you in a rubber or two. Aurelia, you won’t object to making up a table? Ring the bell, Hugh!’

  The Major, with an uneasy apprehension that the form of whist played by a number of generally impecunious young officers belonging to a regiment that boasted very few bucks and blades of Society was likely to fall considerably short of his lordship’s standard, tried to draw back from the engagement; but his suggestion that he should watch, while Mrs Darracott, or Claud, took his place, found no favour at all. His lordship said that Mrs Darracott was fit for nothing but casino, and that he would be damned if he played with Claud, who had no head for cards, or, indeed, anything else. So Hugo had been obliged to take his seat at the card-table, with his grandfather for partner. They played only for chicken-stakes, and it was not long before Hugo found that his apprehension had been well-grounded. He was forced to endure many sharp scolds for stupidity; and later, when the billiard-players came into the drawing-room, the severe imposition of having his hand overlooked by Vincent. He seized the earliest opportunity of relinquishing his seat to Vincent. No opposition had been raised, my lord merely saying ‘Well, you’re no card-player!’ and recommending him to watch his cousin’s play. He had preferred, however, to slip away when my lord’s attention was devoted to the play of a difficult hand, and to enjoy the solace of one of his cigars on the terrace. Here he had presently been joined by Richmond. ‘I thought you had come out to blow a cloud!’ Richmond had said.

  ‘Now, if you’re framing to squeak beef on me – !’ he had responded.

  Richmond had chuckled. ‘You’d be in the suds, cousin! So would I be, if you were to squeak beef on me! Grandpapa thinks I’ve gone to bed. He wouldn’t like it above half if he knew– That is, he don’t want me to ask you about the war in the Peninsula, or– But never mind that! I wanted to tell you – you might not know – he – he doesn’t understand!’ He had raised his handsome young face, pallid in the moonlight, and had blurted out: ‘About the Light Division, I mean! He – he only thinks of the Guards, and the Cavalry! He may say – oh, I don’t know, but pray don’t take it amiss!’

  ‘Nay,’ Hugo had said reassuringly. ‘I won’t take it amiss! Why should I? I’ve nothing to say against the Gentlemen’s Sons, or the Cavalry either – some of ’em!’

  ‘No. Well, I wanted just to warn you!’ Ri
chmond had confided. ‘He’s quite antiquated, you know, and, of course, he does ride devilish rusty – though not with me, so perhaps I ought not to say it, only –’

  ‘There’s no need for you to be fatched, lad: my Grandfather Bray was just such a cobby old fellow!’

  ‘Oh!’ Richmond had sounded rather taken-aback. ‘Was he? I mean– Yes, I see! But there’s Vincent, too, and –’ He paused, knitting his brows. ‘I don’t know why he was in such a bad skin tonight, but in general he – he is a bang-up fellow, you know! What they call Top-of-the-Trees! A regular out-and-outer! You should see him with a four-in-hand!’

  ‘Happen I will.’

  ‘Yes, of course. Do you drive yourself, cousin?’

  ‘Nay, I’m no Nonesuch!’

  Richmond had been disappointed, but he had said quickly: ‘No, you haven’t had the opportunity –’ He had broken off short, and although no colour could live in the moonlight Hugo had known that a vivid flush had flooded his cheeks. He had stammered: ‘I don’t mean – I meant only that you have been doing other things! Things m-more worth the doing! I wish you will tell me, if it isn’t a dead bore, about your campaigns!’

  Yes, Hugo thought, reviewing that interlude, a nice lad, young Richmond; but what such an ardent colt was doing hobbled at Darracott Place was a puzzle. If ever a lad was mad after a pair of colours! He had said that his grandfather had set his face against the granting of this desire, but he didn’t look to be the sort of lad to submit docilely to the decree of even so absolute an autocrat as old Darracott. If my lord didn’t take care, thought Hugo, casting off the bedclothes, and swinging his feet to the ground, he would have the lad chin-deep in mischief.

  Dismissing Richmond from his mind, he strode to the window, and pulled back the curtains, and stood for a minute or two, leaning his hands on the sill, and looking out. The sprawling house was built on a slight elevation, in parkland which stretched for a considerable distance to the south and east, but merged rapidly into thick woods on the northern and western fronts. Below Hugo’s window, a part of the gardens, which appeared to be extensive though not in very trim order, lay between the house and the park; and the Military Canal and, beyond it, the Welland Marsh stretched into a distance still shrouded in morning mist. The day was fresh but fair; it beckoned compellingly; and within a very short space of time Hugo, fortified by a thick ham sandwich and a pint of Kentish ale, supplied to him by a pleasantly fluttered kitchen-maid, had set out for an exploratory ramble round the park.

  He returned by way of the stables, which were situated to the west of the house. They had been built to accommodate many more horses than now stood in the stalls, and were ranged round several cobbled yards. Only two of these seemed to be in use; in the others weeds were pushing up between the cobbles, and rows of shut doors, the paint on them blistered and cracked with age, lent a melancholy air of decay to the scene.

  The Major found his groom, a middle-aged Yorkshireman of stocky build and dour countenance, severely repelling the mischievous advances of a plump damsel in a print frock and a mob cap. To judge by the grin on the face of one of the stableboys, who had paused, bucket in hand, to listen to her sallies, she was full of liveliness and wit; but when she saw Hugo coming across the yard she fell into a twitter of embarrassment, dropped a hasty curtsy, and ran away.

  ‘Set up a flirt already, have you?’ remarked Hugo. ‘I’m surprised at you, John Joseph, at your time of life!’

  ‘That giglet!’ snorted his servitor. ‘I’ bahn to take t’gray to the stithy, Mester Hugo: he’s got a shoe loose, like I told you.’

  ‘How’s Rufus?’

  ‘Champion!’

  ‘Good! I’ll take a look at him. All well with you, John Joseph?’

  ‘I’m suited,’ responded John Joseph stolidly. He cast an upward, sidelong glance at his master’s face, and added in a rougher tone: ‘Tha knows we mun be suited, Mester Hugo, choose how!’

  The blue eyes gave nothing away, but there was a hint of mulishness about the Major’s firm lips. ‘Maybe! We’ll see!’

  ‘Tha’s quality-make, like t’gaffer used to say,’ urged John Joseph. ‘Nay then, sir – ! If tha’s bahn to be a lord, think on –’

  ‘I am thinking,’ Hugo answered. He smiled. ‘Hold thy gab, John Joseph!’

  ‘Mester Hugo! If t’gaffer could hear thee – !’

  ‘I’d get a bang on the lug. But –’

  ‘Sneck up!’ commanded his henchman. ‘Here comes his lordship, and Mester Richmond! I mun fettle t’tits.’

  With these words he withdrew into the stable, just as Lord Darracott and Richmond, who had been out at exercise, dismounted.

  ‘Ha! Glad to see you’re up and about!’ said his lordship. ‘I’ve no patience with young fellows who lie abed till all hours. Another morning you may come out with me: no use suggesting it to you last night: you’ll need to rest your horses. I’ll take a look at ’em.’

  ‘Ay, sir, do! They’re neither of them the equal of this fellow,’ said Hugo, patting the neck of Richmond’s colt, ‘but the bay’s a prime fencer, and strong in work. He has need to be!’

  ‘H’m! Pity you’re so big!’ commented his lordship. ‘What do you ride? Seventeen stone?’

  ‘All of that,’ admitted Hugo. ‘Eh, lad, you’ve got a proper high-bred ’un here!’

  ‘Do you like him?’ Richmond asked eagerly. ‘He’s young – pretty green still, but a perfect mover! I broke him in myself.’

  Lord Darracott, leaving Richmond to show off his treasure, went into the stable, and was soon heard putting curt questions to John Joseph. It seemed doubtful that he would find John Joseph’s answers intelligible, but he apparently understood enough to satisfy him, for when he presently emerged he rather surprisingly told Hugo that he had a good man there, who knew his work. He bestowed moderate praise on Rufus, the big bay, but dismissed the Andalusian with the loose shoe as a clumsy-looking brute, high in flesh. Richmond having gone off to confer with his groom, his lordship commanded Hugo to accompany him back to the house. ‘I’ve a good deal to say to you,’ he informed him. ‘I’ll see you in the library after breakfast.’

  Few members of his family would have sat down to breakfast with much appetite after such a pronouncement as this, but although a slightly wary expression came into Hugo’s eyes his appetite remained unimpaired, and he was soon consuming an extremely hearty meal. The fact that his cousin Anthea had chosen to seat herself on the opposite side of the table troubled him not at all. Glancing dispassionately at her, he was able to verify his first impression that she was a pretty girl, with remarkably fine eyes, and a good deal of countenance. It seemed a pity that she should be so cold and inanimate when a little vivacity would have done so much to improve her.

  Neither Vincent nor Claud was an early riser, and each incurred censure for walking into the breakfast-parlour when the meal was nearly over. Vincent, never in his sunniest mood before breakfast, furiously resented the scold he received, but betrayed this only by his thinned lips and a certain glitter in his eyes. Claud, on the other hand, was unwise enough to excuse himself. Owing to the stupidity of his man, the carelessness of the laundress, and the inexplicable whims of Fate, which decreed that although one might sometimes achieve a desired result at the first attempt, at others success would elude one until one was exhausted, it had taken him three quarters of an hour to tie his neckcloth. The style he had chosen was the Mailcoach, and as it was as bulky as it was wide he bore all the appearance of having bound a compress round a sore throat, as his brother took care to inform him.

  ‘Jack-at-warts!’ said his lordship bitterly.

  Everyone waited for him to develop this theme, but he said no more, merely staring fixedly at Claud under such lowering brows that that unfortunate exquisite became so much discomposed that he took an unwary gulp of tea and scalded his mouth.

  ‘I have it!’ suddenly announced
his lordship, grimly triumphant. ‘I’ll set you to work!’

  ‘Eh?’ ejaculated Claud, alarmed.

  ‘You are a Bartholomew baby, a park-saunterer, a good-for-nothing Jack Straw!’ said his fond grandfather.

  ‘Well, I shouldn’t put it like that myself, sir,’ said Claud, ‘but I daresay you’re right. Well, what I mean is, no use setting me to work: I couldn’t!’

  ‘A smock-faced wag-feather!’ pursued my lord inexorably. ‘Your only talent is for àlamodality!’

  ‘Well, there you are, sir!’ Claud pointed out.

  ‘A certain sort of something!’ mocked Vincent.

  ‘That’s what I’ll turn to good account!’ said his lordship. ‘You can teach Hugo how to pass himself off with credit! Give him a new touch! Rid him of that damned brogue! You don’t know much, but you’ve moved in the first circles all your life, and you do know the established mode!’

  ‘Father! Really – !’ Matthew exclaimed.

  ‘Cousin Hugo doesn’t need any touch that Claud could give him!’ declared Richmond, scarlet-faced.

  Hugo, who had continued throughout this embarrassing dialogue to eat his way through several slices of cold beef, looked up from his plate to smile amiably, and to say, with a marked Yorkshire drawl: ‘Nay, I’d be fain to learn how to support the character of a gentleman. I’ve a fancy to be up to the knocker, and I’ll be well-suited to be put in the way of it. And I should think,’ he added handsomely, ‘that our Claud could teach me better nor most.’

  ‘Exactly so!’ said Vincent. ‘An assinego may tutor thee!’

  ‘To support the character of a gentleman!’ exclaimed Anthea, unexpectedly entering the lists. ‘In this house, cousin, unless you will be content with my brother, you will search in vain for a model!’

  ‘You keep your tongue, miss!’ said his lordship, without any particular animosity.

  ‘Anthea, pray – !’ whispered Mrs Darracott.