'I - I - tripped,' she sobbed. 'I think I have broken my ankle, I can't stand on it, and it hurts abominably.'
She sat down and thrust out her foot, pulling up her gown almost to her knees. Matthew looked, but could see no swelling. The little wretch was playing more of her tricks.
'Come, I will assist you back to the supper booth and your mother can take a look at it,' he said firmly, and ignored her pout as he took her arms and hauled her to her feet.
'Ouch! Oh, Matthew, I mean Mr Childe, it hurts! Can't you carry me?'
'No I can't, you are far too heavy.'
'Oh, I'm not! How dare you? Everyone comments on my slenderness. They say I'm like a fairy.'
'You'd better use your wings, then, and fly. Now if I hold you, hop on your good foot, and we'll soon be there. Come along, it's not far.'
She groaned and sobbed, but was forced to hop along beside him. She had occasionally to put the injured foot to the ground to keep her balance, and every time she winced and cried out.
'It hurts! You are an utter brute!'
'Then the sooner we get back to the others and can find some cold water to bathe it with, the better,' he replied.
'You are so unfeeling,' she complained as he almost dragged her along. When they reached the main path she sighed, and said she thought she could manage if she just held his arm.
The others were waiting, and they went slowly back to the supper booth. When they came to it Sinead let go of Matthew's arm and hobbled across to her mother, collapsing into a chair beside her. She did not, he was amused to see, demand attention for her injured ankle. She was an unprincipled baggage. He wondered briefly what sort of tricks she had been up to in Ireland, and whether that might have had any part in her parents bringing her to London, hoping to pass her over to a husband who might be better able to control her than they were.
As they approached the box Colum drew Matthew aside.
'I say, Childe, can I ask you something?'
Matthew halted, and turned to Colum.
'What can I do for you?'
Colum smiled, an ingratiating smile.
'I'm wondering whether you can put me up for a couple of clubs? White's and Watier's, if you belong to them. I find the stakes where I usually go far too insipid.'
*
Sophia was glad she had made the effort to come to Vauxhall. Perhaps her problem was self-induced, and only when she had made an effort could she hope to feel better.
It was her first encounter with Brigid's cousins. Colum she dismissed as an immature boy, despite his four and twenty years. From talking to his mother she learned he had never been to school, but had been taught by a succession of tutors.
'They never understood him,' Mrs O'Neil complained. 'He was too clever for some of them, they could not keep up with him, and they resented it.'
'Naturally,' Sophia agreed. If Colum had shown the same arrogance towards his tutors as she suspected he did to anyone he considered his inferior, no wonder they had decided they could not teach him.
He had been appallingly rude towards the waiter who had brought their food, ordering him to bring more champagne and loudly complaining that there was insufficient ham for the party. As it was not his party, but Matthew's, Sophia had been within an ace of telling him to mind his manners, but she had recollected in time that he was Brigid's cousin, and she did not wish to embarrass her friend.
Seeing how Matthew smiled whenever he looked at Sinead she felt a moment's qualm. Surely her brother would not be taken in by such blatant flirting? He was quite old enough, and experienced enough, to recognise the girl for what she was, an unprincipled baggage. Then she thought of a couple of their friends who had been caught by ingenuous debutantes, drawn perhaps to their freshness and even lack of sophistication. She decided that for once she needed to be ready to interfere in her brother's concerns, should it prove necessary. She would have to bestir herself.
The child was lovely, she conceded, but shallow. At least she dressed modestly, unlike her appalling brother. Sophia glanced at Brigid. Her gown was two years old, with a narrower skirt than Sinead's, which had the latest gored, wider skirts. She was not, Sophia decided, as pretty as her cousin, but her face showed more character. She tried to be fair to the younger girl. She was very young, and unused to being in society, so perhaps she would improve in time. For her sake she hoped so. But she did not want it to be Matthew's task to guide such a wilful, and probably self-absorbed girl.
*
Matthew stared at Colum in amazement.
'I - it's impossible,' he said slowly. 'I'm sorry, but I can't do it.'
'Do you mean you refuse to do it, to propose me, or introduce me, whatever the system is?' Colum demanded. 'Are you too stiff-necked?'
'No, I don't mean that,' Matthew replied, reminding himself he was the host on this occasion, and it would not be polite to tell this guest just what he thought of his impertinence. 'I am a member of both clubs, but new members have to be elected, and the conditions are very strict. If only one member objects, there would be no further chance of ever being admitted. And as you are not known in London, to the members, there would be bound to be some who would blackball you,' he explained. This was a more palatable reason, he hoped, than the real one that Colum did not belong to that level of Society that would make him acceptable to the high sticklers at either club. He shuddered to think of the astonishment he himself would meet with should he dare to put Colum's name forward.
Colum stared at him angrily.
'You are all the same. Just because you have been to the same schools and your families have known one another for centuries, you despise everyone else.'
'It's not that at all,' Matthew began, but Colum had turned away.
'Don't concern yourself! I will find somewhere else that isn't so exclusive,' he snarled, and marched away.
*
Sophia was tired the following morning, but after breakfast she called Brigid to her room and said they were going shopping.
'I have bought no new gowns this year,' she said. 'And you could do with some new ones too, for when the warmer weather comes.'
Brigid shook her head. 'I can buy some material and make up a gown.'
'We'll see.'
That pert chit they had been with the previous evening seemed to have had plenty of money spent on her. Her gown had been simple, but it was of the highest quality and had been made by an expert dressmaker, not cobbled together at home. Not that Brigid's gowns looked home made, she conceded, the girl was an accomplished seamstress, but it would give her pleasure to buy her something in the latest fashion.
Sinead had spent the entire evening making eyes at Matthew. Something had clearly happened when they had been walking in the gardens, and Sophia meant to find out what that was. She could not decide, from the amused looks her brother had cast at Sinead, whether Matthew was attracted to her or laughing at her. Surely, she told herself firmly, a man of his age and experience would not be taken in by the wiles of a chit scarcely out of the schoolroom? Men were though, she reminded herself.
They were soon in the barouche being driven towards Bond Street.
'Did you enjoy last night?' she asked.
Brigid nodded. 'The music and the fireworks were wonderful, so was the supper. I find it strange I had never been there before, but there was no opportunity while I was at school, even after I became a teacher, and I was too young before my parents died.'
'Why did your father quarrel with his father? Do you know?'
'Not in detail. I believe it was something to do with making repairs to the castle. Papa was always dismissive of the condition it was in, and called Grandfather a nip purse, unwilling to spend money then which would save greater amounts being needed later.'
'He seems to have permitted your uncle to do repairs, from what he was telling us last night, when you and your cousins were walking in the gardens.'
Brigid giggled. 'I don't think Matthew was very pleased,' she said.
&
nbsp; 'What do you mean?'
'He was walking with Sinead, and she said she wanted to explore the side paths. She ran off, and he had to follow. He said he was afraid she might meet with an insult, a young girl on her own.'
'She is a foolish creature.'
'But she is old in some ways! She tried to play off her tricks with him, I believe. When they came back he was half-carrying her, she said she had broken her ankle.'
'She was walking perfectly well when they got back to the booth! The foolish girl. I can't imagine Matthew was taken in by her.'
'She was sulking, and muttering to him that she was not a fat, heavy lump, too big to be carried.'
Sophia laughed. She was relieved. It seemed as though Matthew had the measure of the girl.
'Here we are, now you must help me choose some gowns. I must make a bigger effort to go out.'
*
On the following day Colum and Sinead persuaded Brigid to ride with them in the Park. As Sophia was not well enough to go, and urged her to use her mare, Brigid accepted, and was pleased to see that even on hired hacks the brother and sister were competent riders.
'We have many horses in Ireland, Papa breeds them, though Grandfather disapproved,' Sinead explained. 'I wish we had my own sweet Molly here. These two are slugs! I doubt they could keep up a gallop for more than a few yards.'
'It is forbidden to gallop in the Park,' Brigid said hastily, hoping her cousin would not be foolish enough to defy convention.
'Oh, I suppose they are afraid of frightening the old women who drive in those sedate carriages,' Sinead said. 'I want Papa to buy me a carriage, but he says not yet. Perhaps, when we are back home, he will. But I can't decide between a curricle or a phaeton. Which do you think would be better?'
'You'd be far better starting with a gig,' Colum said, and Sinead frowned at him.
'That's all you can drive!' she said. 'Papa threatened to take your curricle away from you when you overturned it. How can anyone overturn a curricle?'
'There was a ditch which was hidden with long grass, and one of the wheels went into it. That can hardly be called my fault!'
'You shouldn't drive where you can't see the road.'
They went on bickering for the rest of the ride, and Brigid, despite enjoying being in the saddle again, was thankful when they turned back for home. If only she could ride on her own, she thought, as she handed Sophia's mare over to the groom and went back to the house.
*
Chapter 5
Brigid was in her room, looking in some bewilderment at the gowns spread out on her bed. How had she permitted Sophia to both persuade her to buy a walking gown in sea green, and a darker green pelisse, and accept as gifts a morning dress in a dark gold, and evening gown in cerulean blue crepe? None of them had needed any alterations, so here she was with a new wardrobe, more new dresses than she had ever had before. And there was also one of the new poke bonnets in matching dark green, with reticule and gloves of softest kid. At least she had been strong enough to refuse the ball gown of silver-spangled silk and dancing slippers Sophia had urged upon her.
'You are being far too generous, and when am I likely to go dancing?'
'Who knows? It's as well to be prepared. I am trying to say how grateful I am for your patience the past few months, Brigid dear, when I must have been a trial. I am feeling better now, though I still seem to be prone to fall into moods of despondency at times, and you are always there to jolly me out of them.'
She said she would be offended if Brigid rejected her gifts, so there had been no choice, but Brigid still felt she ought not to have succumbed.
At Sophia's urging she wore the new evening gown that night. She knew Matthew was coming to dine, and felt embarrassed, wondering if he might think she was wearing it for him. Might he think she was trying to compete with her pretty cousin, who had made it so clear at Vauxhall how much she admired Matthew? Of course she had no wish to compete. Whatever she wore, however expensive, she could not hope to match Sinead's beauty. Even had she wanted to. Also, she reminded herself, Matthew would not have the slightest notion of what dresses she had in her wardrobe, old or new, so she was being ridiculously sensitive.
She put on the gown, and fastened a slim gold chain which had been her mother's, bearing a pendant with a small blue stone round her neck. It was one of the few jewels she had inherited, which she had until recently had little opportunity to wear. Then, because the weather was still cold, and despite the big fires kept in all the rooms, parts of the house were always chilly, she drew a shawl round her shoulders and went down to the drawing room.
Sophia was already there, and she looked up at Brigid with a smile. She began to say something when there was the sound of the front door knocker.
'That must be Matthew,' she said. 'Good, he is early.'
It wasn't Matthew. They could hear Mr Langston, who had been in the library, laughing. Looking at one another in puzzlement, Sophia and Brigid went out onto the landing, and then Sophia, picking up her skirts, was hurrying down into the hall.
'Kenelm! Joanna! Why did you not tell us you were coming today?'
She hugged her brother, then turned to look at Joanna before hugging her too.
'Those must be Paris fashions! Oh, but it's good to see you both. You can stay for dinner?'
Sir Kenelm laughed. 'That is what we hoped. There won't be anything at Upper Brook Street, though we have sent Venner and Betsy to make sure our rooms are prepared for us. So we hoped you might take pity on us, for we have had enough of hotels.'
Sophia turned to give instructions to a footman, and was ushering them up to the drawing room when Matthew arrived, and there were more greetings.
'Sophia, your baby?' Joanna asked. 'We had your letter. How is she?'
'I'll ask her nurse to bring her down for a few minutes. She's adorable, and I quite forgive her for making me feel so wretched while I was carrying her.'
The next few minutes were devoted to admiring little Beatrice, who slept determinedly throughout, then the baby was taken back to her nursery and dinner was announced.
The travellers had much to tell. Brigid thought longingly of the places they had visited, wondering if she would ever have the opportunity of seeing them for herself. Perhaps, she mused, she could obtain a position as companion to an elderly eccentric lady who loved to travel. Many had been to the continent before the revolution in France had made it too dangerous. There were the Berry sisters, for instance. But they were companions to one another. And Mary Wollstonecraft. But would she like to be associated with that sort of ménage? Now Napoleon was finally defeated, women would again consider such travel. It might, she pondered, be better to apply for a position as a maid. Then married women such as Joanna would also be potential employers.
She was brought back to the present when Sophia gave a shriek of delight, and the men uttered congratulations.
Matthew looked at her in amusement.
'You were far away,' he said. 'Joanna has just told us that Beatrice Matilda will have a new cousin in a few months.'
Brigid blushed, laughed, and apologised. She looked at Joanna sitting opposite, and thought she had rarely seen her friend, whom she had known for several years at the seminary and later in Yorkshire, looking so beautiful. Marriage clearly suited her.
They moved back to the drawing room. Sir Kenelm said they would stay in London until after Easter, to have the opportunity of seeing George and Amelia, and then travel back to Yorkshire.
'Come and see me tomorrow,' Joanna said to Brigid as they eventually called for their carriage and left. 'There is so much to talk about.'
*
Sophia was leafing through her letters when Brigid went to her bedroom the following morning. She had said she was exhausted and unable to rise to eat breakfast downstairs. She held out one letter to Brigid.
'What do you think?'
Brigid scanned it quickly. She recognised her aunt's bold writing. It was an invitation for the Langstons, wi
th Brigid and Matthew, to go to dinner in Wimpole Street.
'We quite appreciate it might not be the sort of house you wish to visit,' her aunt had written. 'We did not know London, and were badly served by the agent we employed to find us a house. We would have much preferred one in Mayfair, of course. So we will understand if you feel you cannot accept, but we would like to return the hospitality you have shown us. If you can appoint a day convenient to you all, we would be eternally grateful.'
Brigid handed it back to Sophia.
'I feel so ashamed!' she declared. 'She has virtually made it impossible for you to refuse.'
Sophia nodded. 'I know Alex will be reluctant to accept, but we have to, don't we? Even if I had a relapse and felt unwell, they would simply say come when I was better. And now I do feel better, I don't want to have to avoid other entertainments!'
Brigid nodded. 'I had a letter from her myself, this morning. She is pressing me to say when I will visit them. I don't want to go, but I feel obliged to give them some time. They may be more - oh, how shall I say it? - normal, less obsequious, than they have seemed so far. It's odd,' she went on, 'Aunt Mary is unctuous, yet at the same time so determined to get her own way.'
Sophia sighed. 'I know just what you mean. Well, I will send a note round to Matthew and try to pin him down to a date. Let us get it over with as soon as we may. Oh, Brigid, I feel so guilty being unpleasant about your family!'
'I hoped we were friends enough for you to be honest with me. After all, I have been uncomplimentary about them.'
Sophia nodded. 'Brigid,' she said slowly, 'do you think Matthew is attracted to Sinead?'
Brigid was thoughtful. It was a question she had asked herself several times, but she had not been able to give herself an answer.
'I don't see how anyone could help admiring her looks,' she said carefully. 'She is very lovely, but - well - she isn't very mature, or intelligent. I don't think Matthew would be taken in just by a pretty face, but you can never tell with men.'
The Irish Bride Page 5