False Colours

by Джорджетт Хейер

“As you wish, sir,” said Kit, holding open the door for him, and bowing him out of the room.

  Shutting it again, he turned to find that Cressy had collapsed into a chair, in fits of laughter. She uttered, between gusts: “Oh, Kit! Oh, Kit! I thought I should die! Poor Sir Bonamy!”

  “You and your knights!” he said.

  That sent her into a fresh paroxysm. “Baronets!” she wailed. “Wretch that you are! That was nearly my undoing! Oh, don’t make me laugh any more! It positively hurts!” She mopped her eyes. “But it will be a happy marriage, won’t it? When he has accustomed himself to the idea?”

  “I should think it might well be, if he can be brought up to the scratch. What I want to know, my love, is whether this was one of Mama’s nacky notions, or yours? Out with it, now!”

  “Kit, how can you suppose that I would venture to suggest to Godmama that she should marry Sir Bonamy, or anyone else?”

  “I don’t. But I strongly suspect that it was you who put the idea into her head! Well?”

  Her mirth ceased. “Not quite that. I own, however, that it did spring from something I said, and that I hoped it might. Are you vexed with me?”

  “I don’t know. No, of course I’m not, but—Cressy, is she doing this for Evelyn’s sake?”

  “Not entirely. I think for her own as much as his. I can’t tell you what passed between us, for what she said to me was in confidence. I will only tell you that I found her in great distress, and discovered that she meant to—oh, to make a perfectly dreadful sacrifice for Evelyn!—and that when I left her she was wearing her mischief-look! Kit, I do most sincerely believe that she will be happy! She is very fond of Sir Bonamy, you know, and always on comfortable terms with him! And above all she must not live alone! You yourself said so. You had her quite incurable extravagance in mind, but what has been very much in my mind is my conviction that she would be miserably unhappy.”

  “Yes, I feel that too. But what of Ripple? You wouldn’t describe him as radiant, would you?”

  She laughed. “Well, perhaps not radiant, precisely! Now don’t set me off again, I implore you! The thing is that he has been perfectly content with his lot for years, and has suddenly realized—I think!—that he doesn’t in the least wish to change it! It must have been a great shock to him, but he will very soon become reconciled to the idea, for he does dote on her, you know! He will be very proud of her, too, and positively revel in squandering enormous sums on her. Oh, dear, look at the time! I must go, or I shall be late for dinner! Kit, who is this General Godmama has invited to dine with us? I wish she had not, for there is something else I must tell you. I have broken it to Grandmama that you are not Denville.”

  “Good God! You have been busy, haven’t you? I thought it was agreed that that should be left to me to do?”

  She shook her head. “Believe me, Kit, it wouldn’t have answered!”

  He lifted an eyebrow at her. “Wouldn’t it? Am I to understand that your efforts have been crowned by success?”

  “Well, I don’t know—and I must own that nothing could be more unfortunate than this General!” she said seriously. “It is bound to put her out of temper, to be obliged to keep her tongue between her teeth all the evening, for you may depend upon it she will have decided just how she means to rattle you down. However, there’s no denying that she has a pronounced tendre for you, and I am very hopeful that if you can but hit upon a scheme to bring us all off from this mingle-mangle without anyone’s knowing what. really happened she will be very much inclined to relent.”

  “I should think she might well!”

  She looked inquiringly at him. “I must own that it seems very difficult to me, but I wondered if you have already some such scheme in your mind? Have you?”

  “Frankly, my loved one, no!”

  “Oh!” she said, slightly dashed. “I must admit that it has me at a standstill, but I did think that perhaps you might have discovered just how to do the trick neatly!”

  “I can see you did,” he replied, regarding her in rueful amusement. “Believe me, adorable, it is only with the utmost reluctance that I shatter an illusion so flattering to myself! But, sooner or later, the truth will out! Better, I dare say, to make a clean breast of it immediately! Cressy, my darling, if your mind is set on becoming the wife of a brilliant diplomatist, cry off at once! For I must confess to you that I too am wholly at a standstill!”

  Her gravity melted into laughter. “Oh, Kit, you detestable creature! How dare you think me such a widgeon as to cherish illusions? I know that you’ll do the trick!”

  Mr Fancot, having dealt suitably with this moving declaration of his loved one’s faith in his superior intellect, said affably, still holding her in his arms: “To be sure I shall! After all, I have twenty minutes to consider the problem before we sit down to dinner, haven’t I? As for the task of breaking the news of Mama’s approaching nuptials to Eve—not to mention cajoling him into accepting it with at least the semblance of complaisance!—twenty seconds, I dare say, will be time enough for me!”

  Miss Stavely, a gurgle of laughter in her throat, but blatant adoration in her eyes, said: “More than enough—my darling, my darling!”

  21

  Dinner at Ravenhurst, that evening, was not destined to be ranked amongst Lady Denville’s more successful parties. She, indeed, deriving consolation from the reflection that no one for whose opinion she cared a rush would ever know anything about it, sparkled with all her usual brilliance; but her harassed son showed signs of preoccupation; Miss Stavely was in a quake; the Dowager, too longheaded to denounce, in the presence of a stranger, the irreclaimable hedge-bird seated beside her, at the head of the table, was understandably filled with a thwarted rage which caused her to snap the nose off anyone so unwise as to address her; and General Oakenshaw was revolted by the discovery that his ancient rival (whom he variously stigmatized as a chawbacon, a bag-pudding, a ludicrously fat Bartholomew baby, and a contemptible barber’s block) was not only an honoured guest at Ravenhurst, but was apparently on terms of the most regrettable intimacy with his hostess.

  The only person, in fact, who enjoyed the party was Sir Bonamy Ripple.

  He had joined the rest of the company without the smallest expectation of enjoyment. The recuperative nap to which he had pinned his faith had been denied him: he had been unable to close his eyes; and he arose from his uneasy couch feeling as blue as megrim, and much inclined to suspect that he had received notice to quit. But when he entered the saloon in which the remaining members of the party were gathered his sinking spirits revived. Lady Denville, ravishingly beautiful in a golden satin gown, came towards him, bewitching him with her lovely smile, and murmuring, as she held out her hands to him: “Bonamy, my dear!”

  “Amabel!” he breathed. “Well, upon my word! Exquisite, my pretty! Exquisite!”

  “Truly? Then I’m satisfied! No one is a better judge than you of what becomes me!”

  He was so much overcome by this tribute that words failed him, and he was obliged to content himself with kissing both her hands. Straightening himself from a bow which caused his Cumberland corset to creak ominously, he became aware of General Oakenshaw, and realized, with immense satisfaction, that that distinguished gentleman was observing this passage with blatant revulsion. From that moment his subsequent enjoyment of the evening was assured. Raising his quizzing-glass to his eye, he ejaculated: “God bless my soul! Oakenshaw!” Then allowing his quizzing-glass to fall, he surged forward, holding out his hand and saying, with an apologetic air which deceived no one: “My dear sir! You must forgive me for not immediately recognizing you! But when one begins to grow old, you know, one’s memory fails! How many years is it since I last had the pleasure of shaking your hand? Ah, well! best not inquire too closely into that, eh?”

  “My memory has not failed!” countered the General. “I recognized you the instant you came into the room! Still as fat as a flawn, I perceive!”

  “No, no, my dear old friend!” said Si
r Bonamy, with unabated joviality. “It is like your kind heart to say so, but I am much fatter than that! But you haven’t changed a jot! Now I look at you more closely I see that you are still the same old—what was it they used to call you? Sheep-biter! No, no, what am I thinking of? That wasn’t it! Spider-shanks! Ay, how could I have forgotten? Spider-shanks!”

  This interchange, while it wonderfully refreshed Sir Bonamy, afforded no pleasure at all to anyone else, with the possible exception of the Dowager. She, indeed, uttered a sharp crack of laughter, but whether this arose from amusement, or from an unamiable wish to vent her spleen on someone, whether she was acquainted with him, or (as happened to be the case) had never met him before in her life, was doubtful.

  By the time dinner came to an end, even Lady Denville, whose delightful insouciance had been maintained, without apparent effort, throughout the meal, felt that the sooner her courtly but ancient admirer took his departure the better it would be for everyone; and she issued a softly spoken direction to Norton to bring in the tea-tray not a moment later than half-past eight. Since Cressy had been unable to warn her that the Dowager was in possession of her guilty secret, she was unprepared to meet the attack mounted against her by that formidable octogenarian the instant the door of the Long Drawing-room had been shut, and made no attempt to defend herself. All she did was to bow her shining head before the storm, saying wretchedly: “I know, I know, but indeed I never meant to cause so much trouble! It was my fault—all of it! Say what you like to me, ma’am, but pray, pray don’t lay the blame at poor Kit’s door!”

  In the event, this spiritless behaviour stood her in excellent stead, as Cressy, on the brink of picking up the cudgels in her defence, providentially realized. The Dowager saidcrossly: “For heaven’s sake, don’t start to cry, Amabel! You’re a pea-goose, and always were, and that’s all there is to it! As for your precious Kit, you may leave him to fight his own battles! He has enough effrontery for anything!”

  From this, Cressy, who had been doing her best to entertain the General when the Dowager exchanged a brief but pungent discourse with Mr Fancot during the course of dinner, deduced, thankfully, that he had not sunk beyond recall in her grandmother’s opinion.

  “I have something to say to you, young man!” had said the Dowager, in a voice which was not less intimidating for being discreetly lowered. “

  “I know it, ma’am,” he had responded. “I only wish that I could think of anything more to say to you than Forgive me! but I can’t.”

  “I collect,” she said, glaring at him, “that you fancy you have only to smile at me to bring me round your thumb!”

  “Indeed I don’t!” he replied, looking startled.

  “Just as well! Next you’ll have the audacity to say you regret your conduct!”

  “No, no, ma’am! You are far too much up to snuff to swallow such a plumper as that! How could I regret it?”

  “For two pins,” she informed him, “I’d box your ears, Master Jack-sauce!”

  That was the sum of their interchange. There was nothing in the scathing glance the Dowager cast at Mr Fancot to encourage him to suppose that she was at all mollified; but when the gentlemen later entered the Long Drawing-room it was noticeable that there was a hint of softening in her eyes, when they rested on the reprobate’s well-formed person.

  The General showed no disposition to outstay his welcome. Pleading a fifteen-mile drive, he took his leave as soon as he had drunk one cup of tea. Kit escorted him downstairs to his waiting carriage, and was just about to tell Norton to send Fimber to him when he perceived that that faithful, if censorious, henchman was standing on the half-landing, where the graceful staircase branched to left and right. “Good! I want you!” he said, treading swiftly up the stairs, and grasping Fimber by the arm. “Fimber, I must have a word with my brother!” he said, under his breath. “I told him ten o’clock, but her ladyship ordered tea to be brought in earlier, and the coast should be clear in a very few minutes. Go down to the cottage, will you, and bring his lordship up to my room!”

  “His lordship, Mr Christopher,” said Fimber, “as I was about to tell you, is already in your room—or, as I should say, his own room.” Having delivered himself of this reproof, he unbent, saying confidentially: “Which was imprudent, sir, as I told him, but can you wonder at it, knowing what he is, and the way Mrs Pinner frets him to fiddlestrings, carrying on as if he was in short coats, and scolding as I am sure I should think it very improper to do!”

  “Well, that’s a new come-out!” retorted Kit. “Let me know when Norton has taken away the tea-tray, you old humbug!”

  He found his twin moodily flicking over the pages of the latest number of the Gentleman’s Magazine. Evelyn looked up quickly, his frown changing to a smile. “Now, don’t scold, Kester! I’ve had enough of that from Fimber! Talk of jobations! But when it came to a glass of hot milk before being tucked up in bed at eight o’clock there was nothing for it but to escape from Pinny!” He rose, and began to pace restlessly about the room. “I’ve thought till my brain reels, Kester, but it’s hopeless!”

  “Oh, no, it isn’t!” replied Kit. “Something has happened which entirely alters the situation. Tell me one thing, Eve! If you were not faced with the burden of our treasured parent’s debts, and were free to marry Miss Askham, would you be prepared to endure the Trust until such time as it may take you to convince my uncle that you are very well able to manage your own affairs?”

  “Yes, I dare say, but since I am faced with that burden—”

  “No, you’re not, brother!” interrupted Kit.

  “Oh, am I not?” said Evelyn, a flash in his eyes. “I have already told you, Kester, that I will not, under any circumstances whatsoever, permit you to saddle a responsibility which is mine, and mine only!”

  “I’m not going to saddle it, so come down from your high ropes! Now, listen, Eve! I have some news for you which I know very well you won’t like, but which you must stomach. Mama has accepted an offer of marriage from Ripple.”

  “What?” Evelyn exclaimed thunderously. “It isn’t possible!”

  “You’d have been even more incredulous had you been present when he made the announcement to me. Lord, Eve, I wish you had been present! He couldn’t have been cast into greater gloom if he had received a death sentence! My own view of the matter is that it wasn’t he who made the offer, but Mama.”

  “Oh, my God, no!” Evelyn said, shuddering. “How could she do such a thing? How can you, Kester, think that I would let her make such a sacrifice? Just what sort of a contemptible skirter do you believe me to be? Don’t spare me!”

  “I shan’t, if you don’t stop behaving like a Tragedy Jack!” replied Kit. “For God’s sake, twin, take a damper! I didn’t relish the notion either, but it will do, you know. I haven’t lived with Mama for as long as you have, but for long enough to realize that she’s no more fitted to live alone than a babe unborn! I know you think she’ll continue to live with you, but you may take it from me that she won’t. Well, what do you imagine will be the outcome, if she sets up an establishment of her own?”

  “I know, I know, Kester, but—”

  “I should rather think you might! Now consider what her life will be, if she marries Ripple!”

  Their eyes met, and held, across the space that lay between them, Evelyn’s holding an arrested look, Kit’s very steady. It was he who broke the silence. “We always thought him a bobbing-block, didn’t we, Eve? Well, so he is, but he’s been a pretty firm friend to Mama! He isn’t in love with her now, but Cressy’s right when she says that he dotes on her. There’s very little he wouldn’t do for her, and the more she wastes the ready the better pleased he’ll be! Furthermore, twin, he’ll take better care of her than ever you or I could! I fancy that such loose fish as Louth will be speedily put to rout!”

  There was a long silence. “If I thought that she would be happy—Oh, no, Kester, no! She’s doing it to smooth my path, and for no other reason!”

&nb
sp; “Yes, I think she is,” agreed Kit imperturbably. “But if you imagine that she’s sacrificing herself, you’re fair and far off! It’s Ripple who is the sacrifice: Mama’s in high gig! I tell you, in all seriousness, Eve, that if you drive a spoke into this wheel you’ll be doing her the worst turn you could!”

  “Kester, you know I wouldn’t—!” He broke off, as the door opened, and Fimber entered the room, and said impatiently: “Yes, what is it?”

  “The tea-tray has been removed, sir,” said Fimber, addressing himself pointedly to Kit. “I have taken it upon myself to instruct Norton—informing him that such was your desire, Mr Christopher—to set out the brandy in the library. He will have no occasion, therefore, to enter the Long Drawing-room again this evening. I should perhaps add that, according to what he tells me, Lady Stavely has not yet retired, but is playing piquet with Sir Bonamy. I shall hold myself in readiness to accompany his lordship to Mrs Pinner’s cottage in due course.”

  “That,” said Evelyn bitterly, as Fimber withdrew, “is what I have to endure! What now, Kester?”

  “Now,” said Kit, “you are going to meet Lady Stavely, God help you! You are also going to felicitate poor old Ripple; and finally you are going to try and discover a way out of this scrape which will not set the ton by the ears!”

  “There isn’t one!”

  “There must be one!” said Kit firmly. “My life’s happiness depends upon it!”

  “Then you find it!” recommended Evelyn. “I’m not the clever twin! Kester, what’s the old lady like? How do I deal with her?”

  “Boldly! She’s a tartar!”

  “Lord, I wish I’d never come home!” said Evelyn. “Don’t you dare to abandon me! I’m all of a twitter already!”

  “Courage, brother!” said Kit, opening the door into the Long Drawing-room.

  They entered the room together, and paused for a moment on the threshold. The Dowager, who had just picked up the cards dealt her by SirBonamy, laid them down again, staring at the twins in astonishment. She did not speak, but the sudden gleam in her eyes informed her granddaughter that she was not unappreciative of the picture quite unconsciously presented by the Fancot twins.