Lady Elizabeth's Comet

by Sheila Simonson

  "The thing is, I was afraid for Tom, sitting about in that dismal cottage with nothing to think of but how soon he was going to wind up in a Bath chair. So I made the offer and he took me up on it."

  I frowned. "Afraid? You don't mean you believed he'd put a period to his existence?"

  Bevis was silent.

  "No wonder you raced up here ventre à terre. Good God, Bevis, surely not."

  "It's what I'd do," he said simply. "And I ain't sure I'd have stopped Tom."

  I could find no rejoinder to that and sat silent, thinking that Bevis was a deeper character than I had supposed. Of course, he was five years older than when I had last seen him, however little changed in appearance. They must have been lively years.

  "You say you nursed Tom through a bad session?"

  When I told him briefly what had happened, Bevis rose and began to pace in front of the fire. "Tom's not paralysed, you say?"

  "No, but Charles thinks there may be some permanent nerve damage. I won't pretend Charles didn't take a terrible risk, Bevis."

  "Let's hope it proves justified."

  On that subdued note Bevis took his leave, promising faithfully to return for dinner, and I went up for a nap.

  * * * *

  At dinner he was his usual cheerful self. I presumed Clanross had not gone into a decline. I didn't enquire closely. I wanted to think about other things. My nebulosity, for an example. A pity the fog hadn't lifted.

  As he took his leave that evening Bevis said to me in low tones, "I'm staying at Brecon until this thing's resolved."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Until I know whether your precious Wharton has landed my friend in a Bath chair. He's dashed weak. Tom, I mean."

  "Was Charles there?"

  "Yes. Gentleman, ain't he? You keep odd acquaintances."

  "Just the ragtag and bobtail of the neighbourhood," I said modestly, "and any passing viscounts I find on my doorstep."

  He was standing at the open door. "Some day someone will throttle you, my lady."

  "Alice, no doubt. We are making a draught."

  "Shall I call tomorrow?"

  "Join us for dinner again. Clanross's bill of fare won't suit you. I believe he advances at Charles's direction from broth and barley water to pap, and thence to gruel, or perhaps vice versa."

  Bevis grinned and raised my hand to his lips. "I wish you will marry me. Good night, Elizabeth."

  Chapter 6

  I thoroughly enjoyed Bevis's company, perhaps because it began to rain in an earnest way, and my nebulosity had to await clear nights. Bevis was much more interesting to me now than he had been when I had refused his offer of marriage five years before. I had felt twinges of regret then. I now suffered more.

  Bevis had not lost his disarming gaiety, but he had stopped being ashamed of his brains and his feelings. The affable idiot had grown into a charming, warmhearted man. I liked him very much. In fact, I loved him. Did I love him enough to wish to marry him? I did not know.

  It was probable that Bevis would not wish to marry an eccentric spinster with a telescope, I admitted to myself a little sadly. For a woman the gap between twenty-three and twenty-eight is absolute, an abyss. I consoled myself with the thought that his papa would certainly prohibit my astronomical endeavours.

  Charles Wharton joined us for dinner later in the week. Bevis, looking heavy-eyed, excused himself early. I suspected him of relieving Sims in the sickroom, though the younger Bevis would never have done such a thing. I honoured him for it.

  Charles rose when I returned from seeing Bevis out. "Liz, will you come up to Brecon with me tomorrow?"

  "Good heavens, why?"

  "I shall have to have a straight talk with Clanross, and I want you to hear what I say."

  "Are you afraid of a lawsuit?"

  "He wields a great deal of power, or will in future."

  "And you feel the need of a family member to sustain you? Very well, Charles. I take it your news are not good."

  He frowned.

  "Has it occurred to you that Clanross might prefer to hear you privately?"

  "He may prefer it. I don't. I daresay Lord Bevis will be present, in any case. He's been there the last two calls."

  "They are close friends."

  "So I deduce."

  I said coolly, "If you wish, I'll stand your friend, Charles, but it won't be necessary, at least not in the legal sense. The family are in your debt, whatever the verdict, and the responsibility is mine. I called you in."

  "Thank you." I could tell he felt uncomfortable and wanted to say something more. Apparently he couldn't think what. Tact was never Charles's strong suit.

  His clumsiness touched me and I added, forcing a smile, "I still hope your dog bites you when you reach home, if he hasn't already done so."

  He grinned, vastly relieved, and took his farewells.

  * * * *

  The next morning the arrival of one Miss Bluestone from London a full day early drove my diplomatic mission from my mind. In the labours of the past week I had nearly forgot Anne was despatching a governess. Not so Jean and Maggie.

  When the inn servant arrived with Miss Bluestone's message--she and her traps wanted conveying to the Dower House--the twins disappeared. They were not to be found in the house. I sent Jem with the gig to fetch the woman and organised the stable boys into a search party. When Miss Bluestone arrived on my doorstep, erect and daunting in black bombazine and accompanied by several cases plainly labelled "Plant Specimens," I fear I welcomed her incoherently.

  "I hope you will find your chamber comfortable, and I shall direct the twins to be shown to you as soon as they are found. If they are."

  "Pray do not concern yourself, my lady," Miss Bluestone uttered. She was a compact, plain woman of about forty, and she had a small moustache which was going to provoke my sisters' mirth. "I am a day ahead of myself owing to Lady Anne's kindness in procuring me a ride as far as Chacton with Mr. Featherstonehaugh's agent. I must otherwise have delayed at Grantham."

  "Do take some more tea, ma'am."

  "Thank you." She shot me a shrewd, sidelong glance. "I am a botanist by avocation, my lady, and I cannot help noticing the abundance of rare flora in the Park. With your permission I shall occupy myself in taking some sketches of the Abies latifolia by the drive. A noble tree, indeed, and so well grown a specimen. Do not feel agitation at your sisters' absence, my lady. They will come back when the supply of apples and cakes they have provided themselves with runs low."

  I blinked.

  "So it is with run-aways, in my experience," she said kindly.

  "I daresay you're right."

  "Now I must intrude no further on your time, Lady Elizabeth. If my things have arrived, I shall see that my specimens are carefully unpacked. Is there an edition of Linnaeus in your bookroom?"

  "Er, no. Papa kept such works at Brecon. I'll procure the volumes for you this afternoon, if you like."

  She smiled. "How very kind in you, my lady. If it will be no trouble..."

  "No, no. Of course not. I daresay Clanross won't mind in the least."

  "His lordship is in residence?"

  "Not en train. He is convalescing from an illness and is living very quietly. Brecon has not been opened."

  She exhibited no further curiosity and rose at once.

  "Shall you wish to display your specimens in the schoolroom?"

  "The young ladies are fourteen?"

  "And a half."

  She nodded her head, brisk as a bird. "I'll risk it."

  * * * *

  Charles came for me at two. Maggie and Jean were still missing. In the distance I could see Miss Bluestone, completely unperturbed, pacing slowly about a great conifer. Estimating its girth, no doubt.

  We rattled up the long drive in Charles's ancient gig in silence. Charles seemed apprehensive. I was apprehensive myself, but my feet followed obediently as Jenkins took us up to the first floor. It should not be supposed that I looked forward to the inter
view. I dislike being slavered over, and I did not anticipate Clanross's gratitude with eagerness.

  Jenkins stopped short of the first bedchambers and opened the door to the small withdrawing room, announcing in his quavering voice, "Lady Elizabeth Conway, Mr. Wharton."

  Bevis was standing by the Adam fireplace in the small withdrawing room, where a large blaze roared. He came forward at once.

  "How d'ye do, Wharton? Liz! I say, this is a surprise. Well, well. We decided to move quarters, as you see. Tom, wake up, you lout. Surgeon's here."

  Clanross was lying, slightly propped, on a daybed. It was odd to find him clothed and shaven and right side up. He looked pale and weak but considerably more civilised than when I had seen him last. His face betrayed no surprise at my presence.

  "Lady Elizabeth. I shan't apologise for not rising."

  I bobbed a curtsey, acknowledging the irony with a well-bred smile. I took the chair Bevis set for me, with my feet on the fender very nearly, and kept mum. Let Charles explain himself. I wasn't going to.

  "Well, Wharton?"

  Charles cleared his throat. I knew he was nervous but he sounded self-important. "My lord, you asked me to give you a straight account of your condition. I have hesitated. It's early days yet."

  "Get on with it, man." Bevis, sounding impatient, as well he might. Clanross said nothing but continued to regard Charles steadily.

  "Early days," Charles repeated, tugging at his cravat and ruining its careful creases. "I daresay you wonder why I brought Liz, er, Lady Elizabeth." He darted me a beseeching glance, which I refused to meet.

  Clanross said coolly, "You wanted a witness from the family."

  Charles blinked. "Partly, my lord. You must remember, however, that it was Lady Elizabeth who summoned me to attend you. For that reason I prefer that she, too, hear what I must say."

  "You may take it I remember little. Pray continue."

  "Very well." Charles stood suddenly and held out a small, gleaming chunk of metal. I recognised it as the blood-smirched object that had caused Sims to lose his breakfast. "I cut that from the muscles of your back nearly ten days ago, my lord."

  "Go on."

  Charles sat again, turning the fragment in his blunt-tipped fingers. "You seem to have retained full power of motion and full sensation in your lower limbs. I see no reason why you should not eventually walk. It will be a slow process, however, and I must warn you that the damage to the muscles of the back was extensive both before, and as a result of, the operation. I consider it justified, even inescapable in the circumstances, but you cannot expect such an insult to the body to be without consequences."

  When Clanross said nothing, Charles plunged on unhappily, "In layman's terms, the use of your left arm will be further impaired, your back will remain weak, and you will suffer spasms of both the damaged and the remaining uninjured muscles in the area--in short, recurring severe backaches."

  Bevis let out a long breath.

  "Backaches?" Clanross's voice seemed to come from an immense distance.

  "Yes. I'm sorry, my lord." Charles sounded human again and quite miserable. "Mine is a preliminary diagnosis, of course. I beg you will call in specialists. Take another opinion, at least. I have prepared a list of eminent London practitioners and two Scots surgeons I recommend highly. M. Lefebvre in Lausanne is also well regarded."

  "No doubt." Clanross had closed his eyes momentarily and now opened them. "Just now, however, I trust that you will continue in your present capacity. I am obliged to you."

  Charles produced a sound that can only be described as "whew!" I felt some sympathy; it was followed immediately by exasperation. Plainly he had not needed me as a shield.

  Bevis, ever tactful, stepped into the breach and suggested that we all take some refreshment. Charles accepted the offer of sherry with enthusiasm. I declined sherry, tea, coffee, and ratafia very firmly. At any moment it was going to occur to Clanross that he ought to cover me with gratitude.

  Under the soothing influence of Bevis's chatter, Charles expanded sufficiently to describe his training at Edinburgh, where he had eaten quantities of oatmeal porridge and nearly frozen to death. Neither Clanross nor I contributed to the merriment. Indeed, Clanross seemed to have drifted off to sleep. Gradually I began to be less apprehensive so that when he did address me I jumped.

  "Lady Elizabeth."

  I braced myself.

  "Have you found a governess yet?"

  I stared.

  "For your sisters," he added helpfully.

  I gathered my wits. "Yes, as it happens. She is a naturalist and was engaged in admiring the giant fir by the carriageway when we drove up to Brecon."

  That seemed to disconcert him but he made a swift recover. "Splendid. Tell her to take a look at the sequoia by the gazebo"

  "How could you know of that?"

  He opened his eyes wide. "There's a plan of the grounds on the wall of the estate room. It is hung so that every time I lay down there I was confronted with it. I believe I memorised it."

  I remembered the plan. "It doesn't show Uncle Harry Whinyeats's ha-ha," I said feebly.

  "A rare oversight, I'm sure."

  "That reminds me, Clanross. Do you object to my borrowing your Linnaeus? Miss Bluestone appears to think any genteel establishment requires his Works."

  "By all means," Clanross said politely. "Bevis had a fire built in the bookroom this morning. Ring for Jenkins, will you, Bevis?"

  I made my escape to the great clammy Brecon library.

  Charles was making his farewells as I returned to the withdrawing room, and I joined in with enthusiasm. Clanross looked exceedingly weary.

  Bevis came down with us and shook Charles's hand as we awaited the gig.

  "Tom ain't the only one obliged to you, Wharton. You're sure he'll walk?"

  "Yes. He'll require crutches at first, but there's no loss of motion that I can detect."

  "These are splendid news. Thank you very much. Liz, tonight?" He took my hand.

  "You mean to desert Clanross again?"

  "He falls asleep in the middle of rational conversation," Bevis said gravely, "and I can't abide gruel."

  Charles chattered like a daw all the way down the drive. His verdict, it seemed, was far less severe than Clanross had anticipated. The visit had restored Charles's confidence. I was so pleased at that, I forgot to scold him for entrapping me in an embarrassing situation. I did avoid inviting him to dinner.

  As Miss Bluestone had predicted, the twins appeared at teatime, quite soaked. Jean had begun to sniffle. They were muddy, bramble-scratched, and had twigs in their flaming hair. When I saw their splotched freckles and woebegone faces, the improving sermon I had prepared for them flew out of my head and I began to laugh. They looked offended. Miss Bluestone rescued me. She greeted them as if their disappearance were nothing out of the ordinary and towed them firmly up to their room for a wash.

  Some three hours later, as I was dressing for dinner, there was a scratch at my door and Dobbins showed Miss Bluestone in.

  She was dressed in an anonymous dark garment that shouted "governess" or "companion" or "spinster in reduced circumstances." I averted my eyes. "What is it, ma'am?"

  "Lady Jean is a trifle unwell, my lady. I have sent her to bed with hot bricks and lemon tea. I thought perhaps I should sit with her rather than join you."

  "Maggie can amuse her." I twisted a diamond earbob in place and caught her disapproving look in the mirror. "Maggie had the cold last week. They exchange their disorders as well as their clothes, books, sweets, and unspeakable pranks."

  Her stern look smoothed. "In that case, I shall be pleased to join you. It is my custom to dine with my charges..."

  I interrupted. "It's my custom to dine with your charges, too, Miss Bluestone. We all dine together. There's usually no one but Mrs. Finch and myself to be shocked by the twins' lapses. Tonight, however, Lord Bevis joins our party and the girls won't be ready for such a test for some time. He teazes them and they
giggle."

  "Ah."

  "And Jean's cold..." I daubed otto of roses on my wrists. Sweet, but I like it.

  "Ah, I see." She beamed at me. "I approve entirely, my lady."

  "Thank you." I found her approval startling. One's employees are not called upon to approve or disapprove one's conduct. What an unusual woman. Perhaps she would have sufficient firmness of character to control my hoyden sisters.

  I rose. "Shall we go down? Lord Bevis will come early unless I miss my guess, and I dislike keeping a starving man from his dinner."

  "That is Viscount Bevis, is it not?" Miss Bluestone pulled her lace fichu down firmly and patted her rigid coif. "The earl of Dunarvon's heir?"

  I nodded.

  "I had Lady Sarah and Lady Barbara Tyrell in my charge four years ago. Charming girls. Heads like day-old chicks."

  I wondered how Bevis would regard this description of his sisters, who were known to their ravished admirers as the Graces.

  The future began to look rosy. Maggie and Jean would grow up paragons of botany and tact, Miss Bluestone and Alice could companion one another, and I should discover a comet. I let my phantasy flow. Alice and Miss Bluestone chatted.

  Bevis arrived in a cheerful mood and looked even handsomer than usual, with his curly brown locks artfully disarranged, his cravat in a trone d'amour and his evening clothes smoothed to show every muscle and joint to perfection. Miss Bluestone's eyes brightened at the sight, and Alice purred. Nor was I unmoved.

  "You're very fine tonight." I gave him my hand.

  He kissed it. "By Jove, yes. My man, Lovelady, showed himself at last. How d'ye do, Mrs. Finch?"

  Alice fluttered.

  I intervened lest she swoon. "Miss Bluestone, may I present Lord Bevis? Miss Bluestone is to undertake the twins' education."

  "Charmed." Bevis made her a graceful bow, but I could tell from the glazed look in his eyes that he was savouring the moustache.

  "I'm delighted to make your acquaintance, my lord. I was in your mama's employ for a brief time, but I believe you were then abroad."

  Bevis's face took on the extremely blank look he assumed when it would be rude to burst into laughter. "Miss Bluestone. Of course. The girls writ me of you."