Lady Elizabeth's Comet

by Sheila Simonson

  "My father ruined himself at rather a lower tariff, of course."

  "Prices have risen," I murmured.

  Clanross grinned. "A palpable hit."

  I stood up. "I'll leave you to it then, gentlemen. Clanross..." Both men rose. Willoughby's poise was beginning to return. I hoped Clanross would give him a good set down. I almost said so. Instead, I held out my hand to Clanross.

  "Thank you."

  He raised it lightly to his lips. "You have only to command, ma'am."

  I flushed again. "I don't command, Clanross, and I do thank you. Oh. Make Willoughby hand over Cecilia's portion. There's no reason Charles should have to pay for Willoughby's follies." I smiled ruefully. "And that does sound like a command."

  As I returned to the Dower House alone, I reflected that Clanross had repaid my earlier aspersions on his magnanimity in spades.

  * * * *

  Bevis, in high gig, called me out of the breakfast room next morning. "My dear Liz, I present Willoughby's compliments. He is gone up to Town."

  "Already? It's not ten o'clock."

  "Already."

  I smiled. "And without bidding me farewell."

  "I daresay he felt his new-won composure would crack under your knowing eye."

  "Lord, what a coil." My mood shifted. "I trust Clanross is not out of reason angry."

  Bevis hooted. "Angry? I ain't seen Tom so amused since he found the quartermaster had billeted his company in a nunnery."

  "I hope the nuns locked themselves in."

  "Tom locked them in. It's a wonder he wasn't assassinated by his men. Or the nuns. Very lively, Portuguese nuns. Fortunately, we moved on next morning."

  "Mercy. Pray do not enlighten me further." I returned to the point. "It is excessively good-natured in Clanross to frank Willoughby."

  "I think so, too. When I consider Dunarvon shipped me off to the slaughter for less..."

  "Less than ten thousand pounds?"

  He looked sheepish. "Perhaps a bit more, now I think of it. But my expectations was real."

  I was still troubled and tried, rather gropingly, to say so.

  Bevis shook his head. "Upon my word, Liz, Tom ain't a fool. Willoughby has a dashed poisonous tongue, and you may imagine the stories he'd put about if Tom didn't settle his debts."

  "Did you tell Clanross that?"

  "Unnecessary, my dear. It was all fixed upon before I rode back from Briarlea. I doubt I'd know of it at all if Willoughby hadn't blabbed. Tom has strict notions of privacy."

  "I see," I said rather blankly. "And Willoughby is content?"

  "He don't like Cecilia's marriage, but he's merry as a grig otherwise. Great plans for Newmarket. And Brighton."

  I groaned.

  "Don't look so anxious, Lizzie. Willoughby will go on as he did before your papa's death, troubling nobody but his tailor. No more high flights. I fancy he's learned his lesson."

  "I hope so." I had my doubts.

  "You ain't disturbed about the money?" Bevis's eyes widened.

  I said crossly, "It is a rather large sum."

  "The estate will bear it."

  "I don't doubt that," I retorted. "Merely, I had second thoughts as to whether Clanross ought to bear it."

  At that Bevis did laugh. "My dear, you must know Tom regards it all as if he were accountable for regimental funds."

  "I beg your pardon?"

  Bevis said patiently, "He don't think of the Conway fortune as belonging to him. Merely, it's accounts to be kept and funds dispersed and a very good thing if the books balance, but nothing to do with him."

  I was shocked by that.

  Bevis frowned. "Would you expect otherwise?"

  "No. I don't know." I groped for what was troubling me. "Has Clanross no sense at all of what is owing to his name? He's the earl, not a glorified bookkeeper. Only consider the Brecon picture gallery," I burst out. "The Holbein, the Rubenses, the Corregios, Lawrence's portrait of Papa. And grandpapa's collection of Italian marbles and Papa's snuffboxes and the porcelains in the Cavendish Square house..."

  "You don't really know Tom at all, do you? He once told me that he lost a miniature of his mother, one of those gewgaws set in pearls, in the Corunna retreat. After that he made a point never to own anything that mattered."

  I drew a breath.

  Bevis went on, still frowning, "Can't you see why years of gypsying about from one place to another would lead him to travel light? He really don't care much for things, Liz. I'm sorry if it upsets you, but there it is." He added, as an afterthought, "Nor money either, except as a convenience. Lord, don't look so worried. He may not turn out a famous collector like your grandpapa, but he'll see that the marbles and whatnots are kept properly dusted."

  "Damn the marbles." I bit my lip. "I beg your pardon, Bevis. Was it Papa's fault that Clanross feels that way?"

  "Dash it, Elizabeth, Tom ain't a criminal." Bevis was genuinely angry.

  "I don't mean that. I mean, he doesn't seem to take any pride in Brecon or Rosnevin or the Lothian estates...or the Family."

  Bevis said tartly, "I should think his behaviour toward Willoughby indicates he ain't going to throw the lot of you out in the snow. Besides, how should he have a feeling for your family? He never saw any of you until your father's death."

  I was confused and depressed, but that stung. "I can't blame Papa."

  "You can't very well blame Tom, either. If he were fifteen, now, or even five-and-twenty, he'd probably jolly well think he was in clover, coming into such an estate. As it is--as it was, all those legal quiddities were an ugly burden to load on a man under a death sentence. Now I don't know. I believe he's begun to find the whole situation ridiculous."

  "Ridiculous!"

  "Well, ain't it?"

  I said ruefully, "I'll admit Willoughby is ridiculous."

  Bevis looked relieved. "That's more the thing."

  I recollected what had brought him to me so early. "How is Cecilia?"

  "Blue as megrim, poor child. I daresay she'll perk up when Wharton shows himself. He cut up stiff with Willoughby, I can tell you. Came practically at dawn. He wants a formal betrothal and a big wedding in August. Mrs. Finch is already planning Cecilia's brideclothes."

  I was horrified. "Good God, she must be beside herself! I didn't even think of Alice, Bevis."

  Bevis smiled. "You'd best remember her quick, then. She'll be twittering down on you at any moment."

  My heart sank. "And Aunt Whitby. I wish Charles and Cecilia had run for the border."

  Bevis said modestly, "I daresay Lady Whitby will hold her peace."

  "You didn't charm her? Oh Bevis, my dear, you are heroick!" I began to laugh. "Thank God for the Middlesex Militia."

  Bevis cocked an eyebrow. "I think you've been listening to Tom."

  "From time to time."

  Bevis took his leave shortly thereafter, informing me almost as an afterthought that he meant to leave for Town in a few days. That was a facer, though the improving weather had lately led me to spend more and more time at my telescope and less in Bevis's company. I didn't quite know what to feel about Bevis's departure, but I knew I'd miss him. Telescope or no telescope.

  Chapter 16

  When the house party had broken up--Cecilia to Aunt Whitby, Willoughby and Bevis to Town--things at Brecon settled into bucolic tranquillity.

  The weather was uncannily clear for several weeks, so I was lost to civility. I discovered a comet.

  When I finally emerged from seclusion I was astonished to discover how much the world had changed. Everything was in bloom. Alice had the sneezes. Miss Bluestone had commenced a series of long, botanical forays beyond the walls with Jean and Maggie, and Clanross was definitely mobile.

  The morning after it finally clouded over I meandered out to the Dower House stables to find Clanross smoking a seegar with my groom and giving my mare a critical once-over.

  "Good morning," I said briskly. "She's too short in the leg for you."

  He ground the s
eegar out politely. "I'd already deduced that. Which is the most lethargic slug of the lot? That one?"

  "Ah, Joybell."

  He winced at the name.

  "She's Maggie's. Maggie is a cautious horsewoman. Jean rides the roan. A high-stepper. Frisky when she's not been galloped. Try Victory," I said kindly. "He's the bay in the far stall with the very long teeth. He's about a hundred and has been known to fall asleep walking."

  Clanross went to the stall and began to examine the ancient plug with obvious expertise. His own hack was a handsome black mare who looked as if she'd last fifty miles without turning a hair. Sims had ridden her faithfully. She was called Paloma. A joke, Sims had assured us, breathless from bringing her under control. She was no dove and obviously would be too much of a handful for Clanross even in his improved state.

  He patted Victory on the rump and turned back to me. "It must've been Blenheim."

  "What?"

  "The victory our friend was named for. Put the poor beast out to pasture. We'd both fall asleep walking."

  "Charles will not approve your riding any horse." I led the way back out into the watery April light.

  "I know. He told me yesterday I might try a sedate walk round Brecon in a month. I seem to anticipate him by about that length of time, so I thought I'd best find a mount and get started."

  I laughed. "You'll drive him to an early grave. He worries about you."

  Clanross was silent for a moment. "I don't like to devil him. He's a good chap."

  "But you intend to, just the same."

  "Yes."

  We walked along the path that leads to the lake in friendly silence. "I take it your aquatic experiment is a success." We had not spoken of his plan to swim in the lake since the last silt-laden waggon had creaked past my door. "Have you been at it a week now?"

  "Nearly three. It seems to help, though I thought I'd sink like a cannonball at first. It was damned cold."

  "Shall you join us for dinner tomorrow night, Clanross?" Jean and Maggie would turn fifteen the next day.

  "The twins' birthday? Yes, thank you."

  "I daresay they've already invited you."

  "Two weeks ago. I told them the invitation had to come from you."

  "Nonsense, you're too formal. After all, it's their birthday." I was embarrassed. I ought to have asked him to join us sooner, but my mind had been so much on my comet I hadn't thought. We saw him frequently, but he hadn't been to the Dower House...horrors! I stopped dead in the path. He had not been inside my house since the brief interview with me before his illness last winter! What must he think of me?

  "What is it?"

  I flushed. "You'll be thinking me very odd not to have asked you to dine sooner, Clanross. The truth is I'm an abominable recluse. Since Willoughby and Bevis left I've been shut up with the telescope every clear night and thinking of it when there were clouds."

  "I don't think that odd. I'd do the same."

  I said impulsively, "I've discovered a comet."

  Clanross was the first person apart from my scientific correspondents I had told. His silence extended painfully. I found I was holding my breath. At last I looked up at him.

  He was frowning at me, an odd intent expression in his eyes. "Have you asked Bevis his feelings about your work, Elizabeth?"

  Angry tears welled in my eyes. I blinked them back. "No!"

  "It will be a crime if you give it up. That's probably the most remarkable achievement in this family in a century."

  "T--truly?"

  He said gently, "Don't you think so?"

  I gulped. "Yes."

  "What region does it lie in? Can I see it without an instrument?"

  I drew a long, shuddering breath. "It's very faint. You might pick it out with your glass." I felt giddy with relief and surprise, so giddy I nearly offered to show him the comet through my telescope. Something held me back--the ghosts of my prudish governesses? To be alone with him at night on the platform...no.

  I rushed into speech. Before I knew what I was about I found myself telling Clanross everything--how I had been searching for a new nebulosity and had stumbled on the blurred light source, how I had tracked it, night after night, how it had finally taken on the characteristic path and shape. It must have been very dull for him, but he was an excellent listener, not so much sympathetic as alert. Although he did not ask very many questions, those he asked were intelligent.

  When I ran dry at last I found we had walked all along the margin of the lake, up the long gentle hill, and past Brecon itself. "Good God, Clanross, ought you to walk so far?"

  "One in the eye for Wharton," he said cheerfully. "Don't come the nanny over me now, Elizabeth. Can you spare me ten more minutes? I have a favour to ask."

  "Of course." Mystified, I followed him to the old tackroom by the main stables.

  "I've a gift for your sisters, but I thought I should ask your permission first." He opened the door and was immediately knee-deep in dog.

  The blur of yelps, wet noses, and fur resolved into two Irish setter puppies, half-grown and clumsy with exuberance. I knelt and was instantly licked all over and covered with red hair.

  "No, sir. Down. They're beautiful!" I rumpled their floppy ears. "And exactly like the girls. However did you find such a perfect match?"

  "Quillan had them. He was describing the litter to me one day when he came to oversee the dredging. I had a vision." Clanross gave me a sidelong glance. "Quillan was very obliging and promised me two as soon as they were weaned."

  I disentangled myself and stood up. "I believe you're indulging yourself in another spectacle."

  His mouth quirked. "It was the thought of all that red hair. I didn't even stop to wonder whether the twins like dogs."

  "Oh, yes, but not lap dogs. 'Nasty, fat things always slavering sweets.'" I gave a fair imitation of Jean's reaction to Aunt Whitby's pug. "They'll be enchanted with these handsome creatures. Shall you bring the dogs to dinner?"

  "I've engaged your sisters for an afternoon tea, ma'am. They can take possession then."

  He had not expected a dinner invitation. I said meekly, "May I come?"

  "To be sure." He gave one of the pups a nudge with the toe of his boot, and it snapped playfully. "Hush, sir. Manners. We've had the devil's own time keeping them hidden."

  When we went out we had some trouble preventing the two rogues from escaping, for Clanross was still not agile enough to chase puppies. We finally contrived to close the door on them, both of us laughing and rather breathless.

  "I think they'd best live in the stables. Alice sneezes whenever Aunt Whitby's pug comes."

  "Lord, yes. You can keep them up here if you like. There's plenty of room."

  "And have Maggie and Jean send me to Coventry? The Dower House stables, by all means. They'll enliven Victory's existence."

  "I hope he survives the shock."

  We strolled back toward Brecon. "When is your birthday, Clanross?" I asked idly.

  "Why? Am I supposed to hold a public day?"

  "Papa always did so."

  He was silent a moment. "The middle of January--not an auspicious time for celebrations."

  "Oh, dear, no."

  "I could adopt a public birthday, like the king."

  "Cheek."

  He grinned. "July fourteenth."

  "Why...oh. The taking of the Bastille. My word, you do have Radical notions."

  "Sometimes." His smile faded. "Good day, Elizabeth. You'll have to write Bevis about your comet, you know."

  I made a face. "Very well."

  "What will it be called?"

  "I beg your pardon?"

  "Your discovery."

  I hadn't thought. I said slowly, "Conway's Comet." Our eyes met and we both fell into the whoops.

  "That s-sounds like the B-Brighton coach," I choked, leaning on the marble balustrade. "Good God, Clanross, what shall I do? I'll have to marry Bevis. Tyrell's Comet sound much more dignified."

  "Tell him that." His smile wen
t wry. "An excellent inducement to matrimony."

  I touched his arm. "Thank you for hearing me out."

  "Your servant, my lady. I'd like to read your monograph some day."

  "You may have five copies for the Brecon library."

  "Signed?"

  "Of course."

  "Thank you. I'll have them bound."

  I was still afizz with laughter when I reached the Dower House, but an evening of wrestling with my epistle to Bevis cured me of comedy. I finally gave it up. Speech is more tactful than writing, after all.

  * * * *

  Jean and Maggie were wild with excitement the next morning and some of their spirit entered me, too. I happily companioned Alice and Miss Bluestone to Brecon when the hour finally came. The girls raced ahead of us, skipping and chattering, primed for a surprise.

  "Have you seen Clanross's gift?" I asked Miss Bluestone.

  Her eyes twinkled. "No, and pray do not tell me what it is, my lady. I like a surprise of all things. I'm sure it will be splendid."

  Alice sneezed. The flowers were too much for her.

  I looked up at the magnificent marble pile of Brecon. Clanross could have bought the girls rubies. I said slowly, "No, it's not splendid. Just...right."

  "That's what I meant." Miss Bluestone walked beside me, placid, admiring the rhododendrons, now at full bloom. I wondered if she were happy. I wondered what she thought of all of us, but I didn't ask.

  Instead I asked, rather harshly, "Miss Bluestone, what will my sisters do when Clanross leaves?"

  She stopped, considering, then moved on. "In the autumn? I daresay they'll write him long letters. Very good for their spelling. I'll ask him to correct them."

  It was a comic but practical notion. Typical. I had to smile, but I pursued my point. "They're attached to him."

  "I understand you, my lady. Pray don't trouble yourself for them. They want his continuing interest. I believe they'll have it. He is a steady sort of man." Clanross had won Miss Bluestone's allegiance long ago. He had mine, too, I realized abruptly. He had won it without trying the previous day.

  * * * *

  Tea was brief--not surprisingly, considering the girls' anticipation. Clanross did not teaze them overmuch. When their impatience began to show through the gloze of manners, he caught their eyes.