Lady Elizabeth's Comet

by Sheila Simonson

  "Nothing good, I daresay," Miss Bluestone said shrewdly. "I took them through their paces in smart order. Good-natured young ladies but not at all bookish."

  At that Bevis did laugh. "Ignorant as a pair of savages, ma'am. Fortunately, it don't matter. Sarah's to be wed in May to George Rundle, and I daresay Bab will follow in due course. M'mother talks of taking the two of them to Paris in the spring. One last fling for Sal."

  "It is to be hoped their accents have improved."

  Bevis grinned. "Shall I give m'mother your regards, Miss Bluestone?"

  "If you will, my lord."

  "Dinner is served."

  "Thank you, Agnew." I gathered my reticule and shawl and Bevis trailed us out.

  Cook had outdone herself. We drank the clear soup in reverent silence. The fish flaked from the bone.

  "Bliss," Bevis uttered indistinctly. "Dare I hope?"

  "Roast saddle of mutton with prawns in waxed baskets and escallops of veal."

  "Ahhhhhh."

  "Does Clanross's cook not feed you at all?"

  "Her breakfasts are just passable. She does rather a nice line in devilled kidneys."

  "Perhaps Clanross will hire a proper chef when he's feeling more the thing."

  Bevis shook his head sadly. "Not Tom. His notion of a snug dinner is half a boiled chicken. No palate either. I left him quaffing an elderly bottle of champagne."

  "With gruel?"

  "Dash it, the poor chap had to celebrate, hadn't he? Took a glass of the ghastly stuff myself."

  Miss Bluestone was regarding us with bird-like interest.

  Alice said, "May we take it his lordship has heard good news?"

  Bevis stared. "Good God, ma'am, did Elizabeth not inform you? Wharton told him this afternoon he'll be able to walk after all. You astonish me, Liz."

  "I ought to have ordered up illuminations," I murmured. "I am sorry, Alice, but what with the girls' antics and Miss Bluestone's arrival and Jean's sniffles, it slipped my mind."

  "His lordship's illness was grave?" Miss Bluestone ventured. We all explained, making allowance for the fact that we were at table, just how grave it had been, and Miss Bluestone was suitably shocked.

  "Lady Jean showed great presence of mind."

  "She did indeed," I said warmly.

  "Tom ought to settle an abbey on her," Bevis added. "I told him so."

  "Will he?"

  Bevis laughed. "He said that he doubts her ladyship is of a sufficiently cloistered disposition, but if she wants an abbey she shall have it."

  "You know, Bevis, if he's set on endowing someone it ought to be Charles."

  Bevis speared a savoury bite of roast mutton. "Does Wharton want a dower?"

  "His gifts are wasted at Hazeldell."

  "What are you suggesting, Liz?"

  "Charles asked Papa to set up an infirmary and surgery for the Chacton millhands. Papa always held back because he disliked interfering with Mr. Chacton's workers."

  Bevis frowned. "Why should Chacton object?"

  "He doesn't believe in coddling his workers. Why preserving them in reasonably good health should constitute coddling I could never grasp."

  Bevis looked thoughtful. "Had a colonel like that. Used to flog one of the men every fortnight regular as clockwork. Didn't matter that none of 'em had done anything sufficiently bad to warrant it. Said it was good for discipline, kept 'em on the qui vive. I could never see it myself."

  "Mr. Chacton is not that wilful. I dislike him, but I believe he is amenable to reason."

  "I'll tell Tom about your idea. Dashed good plan."

  "He should talk it over with Charles. Tell him, whatever he does, not to let Charles near Mr. Chacton. Charles has no tact at all."

  "Right you are."

  The conversation turned to other matters. Before he made his adieux, Bevis announced he had formed the intention of staying awhile longer at Brecon. I was glad. I would have been glad even if it hadn't continued to rain.

  Having sped Bevis on his way, we made for the stairs. Alice stifled a yawn. "Do you think Lord Clanross will approve Miss Bluestone?"

  "Why not?"

  She had implanted an idea, however, which began to trouble me after I retired. Did Clanross wish to examine Miss Bluestone? I had taken his approval for granted. Perhaps I ought not. I turned the matter over in my mind until I grew exasperated with myself, so I rose and dashed off a graceful little note to Clanross, offering to bring Miss Bluestone to him for cross-examination.

  I sent the note next morning by Jem and went into the schoolroom to see how the new regime flourished. Maggie looked up briefly from a sketch she was making, grunted, and bent to her task.

  I craned over her shoulder. "What is it?"

  "A map of Brecon wood on topographic principles," she replied loftily. "Can't you tell? I say, Liz, Jean has lost her voice." She began imitating her sister's croaks.

  "That will do, miss. Back to your task."

  "I'll map the entire estate after I finish this. I say, how do bogs go?" She thumbed through a beautifully bound collection of maps. Miss Bluestone's handiwork, apparently. They were very well executed.

  I left Maggie without mentioning that the estate was already well mapped. When I tiptoed into the sickroom, I heard Miss Bluestone's firm voice ring out.

  Now trebly thundering swell'd the gale,

  And--STANLEY! was the cry;--

  And light on Marmion's visage spread,

  And fired his glazing eye:

  With dying hand, above his head,

  He shook the fragment of his blade,

  And shouted, 'Victory.--

  Charge, Chester; charge!....'

  She broke off as she saw me and rose, smiling. "Good morning, my lady."

  "--" said Jean indignantly.

  I edged back to the door. "Pray continue, Miss Bluestone. You had just got to the exciting part when I interrupted. Jean will murder me if I stay. Shall I send up a nuncheon at one?"

  "That will be splendid. And a fresh pot of lemon tea for Lady Jean. Lots of sugar."

  Jean smiled blissfully.

  I rolled my eyes at her. "It shall be done."

  When I wandered back downstairs, Jem had returned with my answer from Brecon. I ripped it open at once.

  His lordship wishes me to assure Lady Elizabeth that he accepts her Judgement of Miss Bluestone's Qualifications. Although he would be glad to make Miss Bluestone's Acquaintance, he prefers to receive her from a less wholly Recumbent Position. Perhaps next week.

  P.S. Don't I make a first-rate secretary? Tom didn't say that exactly, but it's the gist. He's feeling seedy. I told him not to drink that champagne. Bevis.

  P.P.S. What say you to a wild gallop à deux to Henry Whinyeats's ha-ha? Three o'clock? Please? Lovelady brought my hack.

  P.P.P.S. (if there is such a thing). Tom says I have to go home to Papa. B.

  "The Brecon stables at three, rain or no," I scratched in the margin.

  "My compliments to Clanross. Tell him Maggie is making a map of the grounds. Just what he needs. Jean has lost her voice. E."

  The rain had dwindled to mere mist by three. The ha-ha disappointed Bevis. He dismounted to examine it and stood grinning up at me, hat tipped over his nose.

  "No fair, Liz. It's nothing but a dashed ditch."

  "Ha ha!" I said triumphantly and cantered off toward the Long Field. I could hear him behind me, swearing and laughing as he scrambled back in the saddle. Presently, he began to close on me. I gave Josephine the spur, and we cleared the wall neatly. He clattered over and caught me up at the top of the rise. We both pulled up, breathless as our mounts and laughing. He had lost his hat.

  "Marry me, Liz."

  "Don't."

  He reached over and took my rein. "I mean it, Elizabeth. I meant it five years ago, and I've not changed my mind."

  "You're not going to tell me you've never looked at another woman," I teazed.

  "No, but I've not met your equal."

  "Bevis..."


  "What is it, my dear?"

  "I--do you mean it?"

  "Always," he said simply.

  I was silent, for my thoughts were in a painful turmoil. I loved Bevis. Did I love him well enough to throw away my hard-won independence for him?

  "I'm selling out. I've already sent word to my colonel."

  "Good God."

  "Yes. I'm thirty-two, y'know. Time I was settled, my father would say, and for once I agree with him. I've come home to stay, Elizabeth."

  "I'm glad of that."

  "What is it, then?"

  "I'd make a miserable viscountess. I don't like balls and routs and card parties and drums."

  "That's not all there is to it. Can you love me?"

  "How can I not?" I said rather desperately. "Bevis, will you allow me to think it over?"

  After a moment he said slowly, "I'm leaving next week. Tom says m'father will never forgive either of us if I don't pay my duty, and I daresay he's right, so I'll be stuck at the blasted castle for Christmas. I'll come back after New Year. Will you give me an answer then?"

  I considered. "Not New Year. It wouldn't be fair to you, for I'll spend the holidays with Kitty, and that always puts me off marriage."

  He laughed, rueful. "Not a match made in heaven. You are fair-minded."

  I began to feel easier. "I'll give you my answer at Lady Sarah's wedding, Bevis. Will that do?"

  "At the end of May? By Jove, yes." He let out a whoop.

  "Bevis!" My mare started.

  He reached down for the bridle again, pulled the horses' heads together, and leaned over. I believe even then I didn't know what he was about. Before I could move away he had kissed me full and firmly on the mouth. Alice would have been shocked. So was I, rather.

  He released the rein. We stared at each other. I wondered why I had never noticed that his eyelashes curled, too.

  "May," I said, breathless.

  "Done." He grinned and we headed back, racing each other all the way like a pair of children and laughing in the drizzle.

  I came down with a cold.

  Chapter 7

  I woke next morning with a scratchy throat and watering eyes. Alice took one look at me and sent me back to bed. I have seldom endured the intractability of the human body with less patience. I yearned for Bevis.

  The weather cleared miraculously next day. Between blowing my nose and mopping my streaming eyes, I gnashed my teeth. I could neither ride with Bevis in daytime not mount my telescope nights. Nor could I read, nor, ultimately, talk. Like Jean, I lost my voice.

  By the fourth day, Sunday, I began to feel more the thing and was graciously permitted to descend to the drawing room for tea. Everyone hovered over me in an annoying way. The twins were positively cloying. I was about to creep back up and pull the covers over my head when Bevis was shown in.

  "Poor Elizabeth," he murmured tenderly, bowing over my hand. "I should have realised the ha-ha would prove too much for your fragile constitution."

  "If it were not beneath my dignity, I would kick your shin." I sneezed.

  Bevis laughed. He looked quite beautiful and healthy as a horse. I smiled at him fatuously.

  "If you look at me like that I shan't go home at all."

  I scowled.

  "Much better. Your nose is red."

  "The better to look down at you with."

  "That's a vile construction. Miss Bluestone, shall you not engage to correct Lady Elizabeth's grammar? How do you, ma'am. Mrs. Finch, that is surely Valenciennes lace is it not?"

  Both ladies beamed and plumed themselves, Miss Bluestone quite as much as Alice. Bevis deigned also to notice my young sisters, who blushed and giggled. I reflected wryly that it must be my fate if I married Bevis to find him constantly in rooms full of women who adored him.

  Despite this lowering reflection I spent a pleasant hour, the more determinedly cheerful because Bevis announced his departure for Tuesday. None of us wanted to lose him, nor did he wish to leave.

  "Tom has been screwing my courage to the sticking point all weekend," he admitted. "Let's hope the paternal bosom is in an enveloping mood. I don't like to cry craven, but my father in a pet is a dashed disheartening object. He crackles with electrical fervour."

  We all laughed at that.

  Presently, Bevis turned to Jean. "Shall you call on Clanross tomorrow, Lady Jean?"

  Jean blushed her confusion.

  "Does his lordship feel equal to it?" I asked lightly.

  "I believe so. He would very much like to make Miss Bluestone's acquaintance, too, if such a visit would not disrupt the schoolroom routine."

  "By all means, Lord Bevis. I wish to thank the earl for the use of his Linnaeus." Miss Bluestone was not at all discomposed by the idea of an interview.

  When Bevis left he kissed the palm of my hand. Fortunately, no one observed. I felt the tingle for some time afterward. There was no denying I was moved by him and did not like the thought of our coming separation.

  I covered my discomfiture by tossing the brickbat of our own imminent departure for Scotland onto the tea table. Crash. Yelps of protest from the girls.

  "Do we have to?" Maggie.

  "But Liz, we can't abandon Clanross!" Jean.

  "It's too cold!" Both.

  Miss Bluestone said nothing. Only Alice showed enthusiasm. "Dear Lady Kitty, how I shall enjoy a comfortable coze with her ladyship. And the dear, dear children."

  Jean and Maggie groaned. Kitty's children were terrors and our own small sisters not much better. I couldn't blame the twins, for the prospect did not fill me with eagerness either. However, one owes a duty to one's family. I said so.

  "Clanross is family, too." Jean stuck her jaw out. "I won't go. Someone must keep him company."

  "And soothe his fevered brow?" I regarded her blearily over an inadequate lace handkerchief and sneezed. "Oof. Really, Jean, you've seen the man twice in your life."

  "Three times," she said with dignity. "I think you're heartless."

  Miss Bluestone cleared her throat. "If I may make a suggestion, my lady."

  "Certainly, Miss Bluestone."

  "I'd be glad of an opportunity to explore the Brecon grounds at leisure. Perhaps with your permission I could remain here at the Dower House during the holidays and call on his lordship from time to time to make sure he's well attended."

  "We could not impose so far on your good nature, ma'am. If you don't care to adventure with us to Scotland, I know you have a sister in Bristol you'll be wishing to see."

  Miss Bluestone sighed. "Sophrosone will have all her grandchildren by her this year, and that, my lady, seems to me in the nature of a dustman's holiday, if you will pardon the expression. A little peace and solitude would sit well with me. Of course, if you foresee some objection..."

  "I don't." I sneezed delicately and thought. "I believe it will do, Miss Bluestone, and I thank you very much. I'm sure your generosity will relieve Jean's mind."

  Jean glowered. I saw from the lurking twinkle in Miss Bluestone's eyes that she knew very well it was not the solution Jean wanted.

  * * * *

  Next afternoon Miss Bluestone and I, with Jean scrubbed and braided within an inch of her life, walked up the long carriageway to Brecon. Miss Bluestone kept up a well-informed commentary on the vegetable life we passed. To my surprise, Jean listened and betrayed her anticipation only by an occasional hop.

  Bevis met us in the foyer and ushered us up with his usual flow of nonsense. I could not quite overcome my own reluctance to visit Clanross. It may be that Bevis had sensed that, for his chatter seemed designed as much to put me at my ease as to make Jean and Miss Bluestone comfortable.

  When we entered the withdrawing room I saw that the arrangements were much the same except that Clanross lay rather more vertically propped and Sims and Jenkins hovered in the background over a table of refreshments. The fire seemed less volcanic.

  "Here they are," Bevis said, cheerful. "Better look to the éclairs, Jenkins."r />
  Clanross said, "Hullo, Lady Jean."

  She stalked over to him. "I'm glad you're not dead." Then, covered with confusion, she blushed scarlet.

  "So am I," he said matter-of-factly. "And I have you to thank for it. I also ought to apologise for giving you a fright."

  "Well, you did, rather." The scarlet subsided several shades.

  "Will you sit by me? I find it hard to crane my neck." He lay on the same daybed.

  Jean perched on the edge of the chair he indicated, looking sheepish but pleased with herself, and I moved forward to introduce Miss Bluestone. She and Clanross exchanged polite greetings. His manners, I decided critically, were too formal. A pity he lacked Bevis's ease.

  "Please use the library whenever you like, Miss Bluestone," Clanross said gravely, when she thanked him for the loan of Linnaeus.

  The governess beamed. "That is most kind in you, my lord. I daresay it is a first-rate collection."

  "Perhaps you'll survey it for me."

  She turned pink with pleasure. "I should like it of all things."

  "There is a catalogue," I interposed in a spirit of helpfulness. Clanross scowled at me. "I've seen it, Lady Elizabeth. Columns of Latin sermons. Very improving, no doubt."

  "Do you not read Latin?"

  "It's the sermons I dislike, not the language."

  I contrived to look shocked and Bevis laughed. "Give over, Liz. You know you was used to read those sermons to put yourself to sleep."

  "Better than a dose of laudanum," I murmured.

  Clanross merely looked at me. Not one of my more graceful moments. I dropped my eyes. I could see he was underslept.

  Bevis leapt into the breach. "Here, Tom, didn't Sims have something he wanted to show Lady Jean?"

  Clanross turned his head. "Sims!"

  "Now, me lord? Right you are."

  Jean sat forward, eyes wide, as Sims trundled over to her holding a small packet in his ham-like fist.

  "'Ere you are, me lady. Mrs. Smollet found a proper box and Jenkins give it a good rub. Like new."

  Jean fumbled the box open. "How beautiful, Sims. What is it?"

  Sims scratched his ear. "Now that there, me lady, is what the Frogs call the Legion of Honour. It's a reward, see, for bravery. I took it off a dead Frenchie after Salamanca. Seeing as 'ow you was so quick and downright intrepid-like when the major 'ad 'is unfortunate accident, I thought p'raps you'd like to 'ave it."