Debutantes
Page 35
‘That I can imagine, Lady Evesham,’ Lord Oughterard replied, finished with his fish and now carefully wiping his fine long moustaches with a napkin. ‘But as you may have realized, provided etiquette is observed at all cost I give and expect no quarter in the field. When we’re running, it’s every man for himself. Or every woman for hers, as the case may be. Yes?’
Daisy gave a deep, melodramatic sigh, as if her heart had been broken.
‘All I’m asking is vat you see your daughter is locked in her room tonight. Or at ve very least put up tomorrow on your slowest animal. All I hear every night and every morning is ve name of Lady Emily Persse on all ve gentlemen’s lips. Can you imagine what vis does to someone quite as vain as I? I am not used to such a fing, Lord Oughterard. It makes Daisy Evesham feel as vough she were losing her appeal.’
‘Ha!’ Lord Oughterard said monotonously. ‘Ha!’
‘Am I to take vat to mean you do not fink vis to be ve case, Lord Oughterard?’ Daisy asked, dropping her voice deliberately low.
‘Madam,’ Lord Oughterard announced in reply as the plate in front of him was removed. ‘As I’m sure ye’re aware, hounds are bred for nose. Yes?’
‘And your hounds most famously so, Lord Oughterard.’
‘Quite. Because nose beats the eyes any day. After all, that’s what the chase is, yes? Picking up scent soon as it’s given off.’
‘Of course,’ Daisy replied, sensing a slight nudge against her knee below the table. ‘And is vis scent ticklish would you say? I mean are ve hounds racing wivout lowering vair heads?’
‘In my frank opinion, madam, this particular scent is a burner. On this occasion it’s that good a man might venture to say hounds’d run mute.’
Lord Oughterard followed this with a slow two-note clearance of his throat, holding a rounded fist up in front of his whiskered mouth. Then he turned his head slowly in the direction of his famous guest and fixed her with a very different look now in his pale blue eyes.
Happy that she had successfully beguiled her host, Daisy then set about winning over her hostess. Not unnaturally the celebrated Countess of Evesham found her own sex somewhat more resistant to her charms, but this rarely troubled her since it was not the wives but their husbands in whom she was usually interested. In this case, however, knowing that in order for the scheme she was formulating to succeed she would have to win Lady Oughterard to her side she had made provision for this, and occasionally during the moments at dinner when she was not talking to her host Daisy kept an eye on this provision and was happy to see that apparently everything was going to plan. Her husband, who had also been given the place of honour to his hostess’s right, was it seemed reacting exactly as Daisy had hoped. The Earl of Evesham was being charmed to distraction by effervescent Lady Oughterard.
After dinner, before the gentlemen had rejoined the ladies and the entertainment had begun, Daisy made certain while they were waiting to secure a place for herself next to Lady Oughterard in the drawing room.
‘Far be it from me to go over what I am sure my dear husband discussed wiff you over dinner,’ she began as soon as she had her hostess’s attention, ‘but I do hope you agree vat his suggestion is a topping one. He would be so disappointed if you were not as pleased wiff it as he, since it was entirely his own notion.’
‘Your husband is a most charming man,’ Lady Oughterard sighed, smiling vaguely at Daisy since she had no idea what she was talking about. ‘Isn’t he the very best of listeners, and doesn’t he have such a smile about him.’
Having been warned well in advance of her hostess’s obsession with the Garlic, as Terence KilMicheal had put it, Daisy had soon understood that this particular manner of talking was not inquisitive but merely aping the way the native Irish spoke English themselves, making statements sound exactly like questions since that was the way of their native tongue.
‘So you approve of his idea,’ Daisy replied, not to be sidetracked by Lady Oughterard’s renowned conversational eccentricities. ‘I am so glad, because we are bofe so taken wiff your beautiful and charming daughter. All your daughters in fact, but since Emily is ve eldest and of an age to make her debut then of course it is about Emily we must talk.’
‘Emily?’ Lady Oughterard wondered with a frown. ‘Emily?’
‘Tommy was saying when the subject first came up vat a girl such as your wonderful Emily would be wasted making her debut in Dublin. Not of course vat one has anyfing personal against Dublin which is an utterly beautiful place altogether, and such a charming society – but. But too small a one and one not quite good enough, Tommy was saying, for someone as remarkable as your dear Emily.’
‘I have it now,’ Lady Oughterard nodded, rather too vigorously since the gesture necessitated a quick adjustment to her latest scarlet and gold embroidered turban. ‘Aren’t you referring to Emily’s making her social debut next year?’
‘Good,’ Daisy said, emphasizing her apparent delight with an almost silent clap of her gloved hands. ‘I knew Tommy would convince you of our notion. So we have your approval, Lady Oughterard?’
‘You have my approval? Why should you seek my approval, Lady Evesham, for our daughter’s becoming a debutante?’
‘Because we could hardly do what we hope to do for her wivout first seeking your consent, vat is why.’ Daisy put one tiny gloved hand on one of Lady Oughterard’s much larger ones in a conspiratorial fashion. ‘I do not know whever Tommy mentioned vis to you, or whever you heard talk of it before, but because of ve way we are positioned and because of certain of our connections, last year all free of ve girls whom vair parents allowed me to introduce into Society made ve very best of marriages. Two of vem are to marry ve heirs to English earldoms and one ve newly succeeded Duke of Chelsea. And I have every hope—’ Daisy kept her hand where it was, applying just enough pressure to her hostess’s hand to keep her from interrupting. ‘I have every hope of making such a match for your dearest Emily whom, might I say, is twenty times ve girl all free of my girls put together were last year! If you get my meaning!’
Daisy gave a little happy peal of her famous laughter and then released Lady Oughterard from her grip.
‘You would like to act as patron to Emily, Lady Evesham?’ Lady Oughterard enquired. ‘Why that is a most generous offer and of course we would much prefer our daughter to be presented in London – but might I wonder as to why exactly?’
‘As I said, dear Lady Oughterard, we are bofe so taken wiff your Emily, and of course having had no daughters of his own my dear husband would love to share ve excitement of presenting some young gel such as your darling daughter at Court. It would give him such satisfaction, and having talked to your husband – well.’
Daisy left the sentence unfinished, playing a risk card. She had of course made no mention of her plans to Lord Oughterard, but knowing men and women as she did, and having carefully observed her host and hostess as she had throughout the week, she was gambling on the fact that should the subject be raised in any detail it would appear from the way Daisy had organized it that it was already almost a fait accompli. Lord Oughterard was so taken with his hunting and his wife with her Gaelic revival that not for one moment did Daisy imagine they had sat down together to discuss the future of their eldest daughter.
But most of all Daisy was relying on her trump card, which was in fact the ace. She knew the matter would not even have been broached, but even if it had there would not have been very much interest in it for the simple reason that girls did not count.
‘I shall have to talk to Emily, naturally,’ Lady Oughterard said, ‘although I am sure she will be quite taken with the notion.’
‘And if she is?’ Daisy enquired. ‘Would you be happy to leave all the arrangements to us? Our only proviso being vat Emily should join us in London as soon as possible. Perhaps she could even travel back with us?’
‘Ah – now,’ Lady Oughterard began, doing her best to catch up, but her guest was back in before she could go any further.
There it was, Daisy smiled to herself as she walked across the room to greet her husband. There was the coup de grâce, delivered with her usual unerring precision. She knew the Oughterards were in severe financial difficulties, suffering as most of these disorganized aristocratic families seemed to do from a severe shortage of ready cash. So the offer for the Eveshams not only to organize but to foot the entire bill for Lady Emily Persse’s debut into London society would be too good an offer to refuse, particularly if as promised Lady Emily Persse made the best of matches and restored the family fortunes.
Which Daisy Evesham had every confidence the characterful young lady would, since the Honourable Peter Pilkington was the heir to a quite colossal fortune.
THE ABDUCTION
‘Why so?’ he asked. ‘You are not a chattel. You are not goods to be passed to the place where they may fetch the highest price.’
‘When you think of it that’s about exactly what I am,’ she replied, glancing down the hillside to where the dogcart stood waiting, with old Mikey blowing his breath into his hands to keep warm, and Fanny the maid huddled half hidden under a thick grey blanket.
‘You belong here, Lady Emily,’ he insisted. ‘This is where you were born. This is the place which concerns you.’
‘You don’t understand, Mr O’Connor. I have no say in the matter. No, that’s not true—’
‘I’m relieved to hear you say it, Lady Emily.’
‘No, I meant my saying you didn’t understand. For you understand too well what I mean. You are a man and may do as you please—’
‘I may only do what I please up to a point, Lady Emily,’ he interrupted, also now looking to the dogcart, not for reassurance but as if it were a tumbril waiting to take his love off to her execution. ‘As far as you are concerned—’
‘Mr O’Connor—’ For the first time in as long as she could remember, Emily stood close to tears. But with one defiant shake of her head she warded them off and recovered her composure. Were she to give in to her emotions now there was no saying what she might do.
‘Run off with me then,’ he suddenly whispered, bending forward to her, the wind catching up his black cloak behind him in a swirl. ‘Run off with me and they shall never find us.’
‘Of course they should find us, Mr O’Connor,’ Emily replied, still managing defiance. ‘Believe me, I should not be out here meeting with you now. No-one knows I am here, except the two of them down there. If anyone finds me gone at this very moment they’ll send out a party to scour the county.’
‘I mean it. Come away with me,’ Rory O’Connor insisted. ‘We’ll away down to Cork and then to America.’
Emily looked at him wide-eyed. Such a notion was so far beyond her wildest imaginings that she could scarcely embrace it. ‘To America?’
‘We’d hardly be the first!’ He laughed, taking her hand for the first time since they had met. The moment he touched her, innocent as the gesture was, Emily felt as if the breath had been knocked out of her body.
‘No, don’t,’ she whispered. ‘Don’t – you mustn’t do that. You mustn’t – you mustn’t.’
She tried to withdraw her hand but he had her held fast.
‘But I must, Lady Emily,’ he insisted, the smile now gone from his dark and handsome face, replaced by a look of utter sincerity. ‘For if I do not tell you how I feel, if I do not show you—’
‘Please,’ she implored him. ‘Please you must let me go.’
‘It is because I will not let you go that I must keep hold of you. Because you have my heart. No no – do not look at me like that, Lady Emily, as if this has come as a surprise to you, because I have seen your eyes. I have seen the look in your beautiful green eyes – ever since the day I rode to meet you out hunting. That look was there then, as if you’d seen and felt something you’d never seen nor felt before. I saw it in your eyes that very last moment before you wheeled your big grey horse around and galloped off home. And I’ve seen it in your eyes each time we’ve met since – so don’t tell me you are not aware of my feelings! Nor – more importantly – that you are not aware of your own. Because I will not have it! I will not believe you for one instant. Not one, I promise you!’
‘Ssshhh, Mr O’Connor, please!’ Emily breathed in deeply and took a quick glance back down the hillside. ‘And you must let me go! If my maid was to see this—’
‘Are you forgetting who brought me your note?’
‘Fanny had no idea of its contents, Mr O’Connor.’
‘Yet there she sits below us, while here we stand above her. I would say even Fanny must have some idea of its contents by now, Lady Emily.’ He leaned forward again as Emily was off guard, to catch her other hand as well. ‘Be a pilgrim, Lady Emily. Take heart. Be valiant. Come with me now and together we shall conquer the heavens.’
‘There is no way I can come with you, Mr O’Connor! You know that! You’re just trying me quite deliberately!’
Emily wrestled with him and by suddenly and sharply turning her wrists over, just the way she had used to when larking with her sisters in the nursery, she was free of his hold. She was annoyed with him, and more than she realized because she thought he was taking advantage of the situation and trying to secure from her some sort of declaration of her own feelings and to Emily that was highly aggravating, more aggravating than she could say. To her way of thinking this was not the behaviour of a gentleman and she told him so.
‘Is that right?’ Rory O’Connor replied, deliberately overdoing the amazement in his voice. ‘Is that really right now? Ah well, Lady Emily Persse – well if it’s marrying a gentleman is what you’re after then I must stand to one side here. That is your reason for going to England then, is it? So that you may marry a gentleman.’
Emily waited before she made her reply, holding her breath while she did so in order not to say anything too untoward or foolish.
‘I am going to England, Mr O’Connor,’ she finally replied slowly, ‘because I have no other choice. As I have already explained. I am a girl, just eighteen years old, and I have to abide by the decisions made for me by my parents.’
‘Ah ha!’ Rory cried, clicking together a forefinger and thumb. ‘There is that famous look of yours again! There is that colour in your eyes! Your eyes have turned duck green just the way I told you they did!’
Rather than stamp her foot in anger which is what the increasingly enraged Emily felt like doing, instead she just turned away and carefully began to descend the steep rocky hill. Rory O’Connor was after her the moment she moved.
‘So go to England then, and have them marry you to whomsoever they will!’ he called. ‘Marry a man four times your age with houses all over the land but no chin! Go on – do as your parents tell you to do! Or throw away your life on some empty-pated young soldier! Some dunce of a dragoon who will bore you to an early grave! Go on! Go on, Lady Emily! If that’s what you must do, then go and do it! And hurry! Hurry lest you miss one dull moment of a life that is going to be totally forgettable! Rather than come with me and live life as it should be lived! Go on away with you! Forget that here stands a man who will love you to distraction! Who would call down the very stars in the heavens for you! Who w
ould not let anything nor anyone come between him and the mighty passion he has for you!’
‘Fine talk, Mr O’Connor! Fine talk indeed! But that is all it is!’ Emily wheeled round and faced her pursuer, with her hands on her hips. ‘You’re very good at fine talk in this country! At shouting, and remonstrating, and making great boasts! And most particularly over things you know full well you can’t possibly have! Or cannot possibly do! Your heads are full of faeries and magic and marvellous fanciful legends! But when it comes down to reality what do you do? You go away and get drunk so you do!’
‘No no, Lady Emily! Now that is hardly fairly said—’
‘You can keep your protests, Mr O’Connor! Because I am deaf to them! Because I am right! That is exactly what you all do as soon as you have to give best! You make the very devil of a song and dance about it! You all get maudlin drunk and then sit around singing just as maudlin laments for your long-lost loves! The Celtic twilight describes what this country is like most particularly well! Because to listen to the way you all carry on I doubt if any of you have seen the full proper light of day in a thousand years!’
Taking just enough time to enjoy the look of total astonishment on Rory O’Connor’s face, Emily then turned back and started to hurry away down the hill as the slope grew easier. After a moment she could hear him behind her, hurrying to catch her up.
‘Emily Persse!’ he called, but it wasn’t the use of her full name that arrested her, it was the ring to his voice. It had a terrible finality.
‘If you do not come away with me and marry me, then this is the very last time you shall see me,’ he said, now just behind her, no more than inches away from her. ‘Yes, this is not the way you imagine things should be done. Yes, I am sure I have no right to approach you in such a manner. No, I know I am not in any way acceptable to your family—’