At that, Louisa had begun to panic. Mistakenly, she had assumed that everything was clear; now it seemed he had told his sister very little. Afraid that Letty would refuse to make the journey at all, he had not asked her to meet Louisa. Now, overriding all her fears, he maintained it was of no account. ‘All I want is for you to meet Georgina, and somehow I shall arrange it.’
And somehow he would, Louisa thought, feeling a flutter of anticipation. Seeing father and daughter together would reveal another dimension of the man she loved, a side she very much wanted to know and share. His sister Letty was quite another matter, however; despite the glowing portrait Robert painted, Louisa had had enough experience of well-born ladies to know that even the best of them could crush lesser beings with no effort at all.
Having killed an hour or more with chores, she could stand the tension no longer; changing her clothes, Louisa donned coat and bonnet and set off up the hill to Bootham, through the Bar and into Petergate.
There was the nerve-tingling expectancy of Advent in the streets, a special excitement which seemed to alert every sense to sights and sounds and smells which only a week before had gone unnoticed. Medieval buildings in the centre of town seemed to huddle together like fairytale houses, their windows brightly-dressed feasts to tempt the buyer inside. Outside a greengrocer’s, the mixed scent of evergreens and fruit made her want to buy a dozen of everything. People were different: gentlemen tipped their hats, ladies smiled as they crossed her path, and Louisa smiled back, loving these few days before Christmas when the world was a kinder place, and all things seemed possible.
She lingered in front of the toyshop where, only a few days before, Robert had bought an exquisite china doll with blue eyes and real hair, its garments complete in every tiny detail. Like a child herself, she had exclaimed over it, laughingly envying the small girl for whom it was intended. Her own dolls had been robust rather than elegant, but loved and cared for all the same. With a secret smile she thought back to those days, remembering the eager anticipation, wondering what treats Mamma would have in store for them. Always there had been stockings filled with apples and little, bitter oranges, freshly-minted pennies which gleamed like golden treasure in the dark of a winter’s morning, and an extra, special surprise for each of them, different every year.
Christmas in the North Riding had been a grand affair, almost eighteenth-century in its lavishness, she thought, with cook busy for a week or more beforehand, and the children rehearsing plays, making presents and gathering holly and mistletoe by the cartload. It had all been such tremendous fun, she had hardly minded being unable to get home before New Year.
Last year, at the Tempest’s, the season had been lacking in joy of any kind. The household was not quite out of mourning, but in the absence of any suppressed delight, Louisa suspected there had never been much fun, even at Christmas.
On a sudden impulse she went into the toyshop and after much searching found a gift which could pass unnoticed in the Blossom Street schoolroom. It was a stiff booklet which, with diligent use of paste and scissors, should turn into a miniature theatre, complete with characters and scenery. A little advanced for Victoria, perhaps, but she would enjoy it. To ensure delivery to the child, she thought she would address it to Moira, with a covering note. Rachel, of course, was in need of neither presents nor sympathy; parties and jollity would no doubt be assured.
Retracing her steps, Louisa made her way to a small jeweller’s in Stonegate. A few days previously she had noticed a pair of cufflinks, tiny enamelled shamrocks within a ring of gold. There was no price marked, but feeling the supreme importance of buying Robert a good gift with her own money, she had withdrawn some of her savings. As she walked into the shop, she hoped it would be enough. On enquiry, she found the price less than she had feared; the present was boxed and wrapped, and feeling very grand indeed she stepped out of the shop and made her way towards home.
It was quicker, and pleasanter, to walk through the Museum Gardens. With Victoria’s book tucked beneath her arm, and Robert’s present safe in her small drawstring bag, Louisa willingly paid her penny for the privilege. As always, she looked out for Victoria; they had often come here, sometimes with Rachel, and while she had given up hope of seeing her, she still glanced automatically at groups of children and nannies out taking the air. But it was a cold day, the brief spell of midday brightness fading fast; apart from a few disconsolate peacocks, the gardens were practically deserted.
There were several paths, one breasting the rise where the Museum’s neo-classic facade looked out over the river, another running past a small octagonal observatory. Louisa was approaching it when between the trees she saw Robert in the distance. He seemed to be looking for someone. Her first instinct was to hurry towards him, but remembering his sister she paused. For a second she stood in the shelter of the trees, wondering what to do, which way to go.
To run into them now would seem pre-arranged, and Louisa had no desire to antagonize his sister in such a way; but she could not resist another look. She wanted to see Letty Duncannon; even more did she want to catch a glimpse of Georgina.
The spreading branches of a cedar obscured her vision; bending slightly, she peered beneath, seeing the lower halves of two people standing on the lower path. In the same moment, a whispered greeting startled her.
Round blue eyes in a delicately-featured face surveyed Louisa with disarming frankness. ‘Would you be hiding too?’
If there had been a moment’s doubt, the lilting words dispelled it. Surely, this was Robert’s daughter, virtually introducing herself. After all the plotting and planning, Louisa chuckled at the irony.
‘I would indeed,’ she softly confessed, noting silvery plaits beneath a deep-blue bonnet, fair brows and lashes, and a pink and white complexion. Other than the shape and colour of her eyes, the child bore little resemblance to her father. She was, in fact, as dainty as a piece of Dresden, and with a sudden chill, Louisa wondered whether she was looking at a younger version of Charlotte.
Mustering self-control, she smiled and whispered: ‘But you mustn’t tell.’
‘Who mustn’t I tell?’ Georgina asked, bright eyes scanning trees and empty lawns in search of other children.
Disconcerted, Louisa tried to think. ‘Well,’ she said at last, ‘that’s a secret for the moment.’
‘It’s Auntie I’m hiding from,’ the little one confided, then, with a frown, added: ‘And Daddy. They’re being such a terrible time, looking at all the plants and things. And I’m wanting to see the — the ex — exhibition. And Daddy’s being naughty — he won’t tell me what it is.’
Her little figure expressed such a vast amount of pique, Louisa had to suppress a laugh. She agreed that it was most unfair of him. ‘But I think you should give yourself up now, before he begins to worry. You could be anywhere – he won’t know where to look.’
‘Yes he will.’ With elaborate care, Georgina peeped round a corner of the observatory wall, darting back immediately with a giggle of excitement. She pressed herself against Louisa’s skirts. ‘He’s here!’
Rooted by panic and indecision, Louisa waited to be discovered, quailing at the prospect of meeting Robert’s sister in such undignified circumstances. She closed her eyes, opened them, waited, but no one appeared. The child peered cautiously out. Louisa did the same.
‘Well, I’ll be damned!’ a male voice exclaimed behind them. ‘Haven’t I caught more than I bargained for!’
With a delighted squeal, the child launched herself into Robert’s arms. ‘Didn’t I say you’d find me? May we go now? May we? Please?’
‘Not so fast! Auntie is walking the other path, looking for you – and where are your manners? What about this lady you’ve waylaid? Introductions are called for, don’t you think?’ He looked at Louisa then, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
‘I don’t know her name,’ Georgina confided to his coat lapels.
‘But I do,’ he said softly, his eyes never leaving Louisa’
s. ‘Her name is Miss Elliott. I’d appreciate you being kind to her, for she’s a very dear friend of mine.’
Between parted fingers, Georgina peeped at this very dear friend of her father’s. For his benefit, she was determined to be shy. ‘Hello, Miss Elliott,’ she whispered.
Louisa’s lips quivered as she smiled, but she took the little gloved hand in hers. ‘Hello, Georgina. I’m delighted to make your acquaintance at last. I’ve heard a great deal about you.’
Swamped by conflicting emotions, she blinked rapidly, wanting to stay and knowing she should go. Loving Robert, she was ready to love his child; but there was sudden envy, painful and shocking. The longing for motherhood hit her like a blow.
With difficulty, she said: ‘I really must get home…’
He laid a compassionate hand on her arm. ‘No, don’t dash away. Please, not yet.’
‘What will your sister think?’
‘I think we’re both about to find out,’ he murmured.
Following his eyes, she looked up to see a tall figure coming towards them from the top path, striding across the grass without apparent care for either skirt or boots.
‘So there you are!’ she cried. ‘I was thinking I’d lost the pair of you.’
Georgina ran to her, breathless with importance, babbling incoherently about the game of hide-and-seek. Robert followed slowly, his hand still beneath Louisa’s elbow, gently urging her forward.
Louisa wondered whether it was possible to die from embarrassment. She hated herself for pre-empting this meeting, for placing a woman she had so wanted to impress in a difficult position. Expecting the worst, she was unprepared for the amused, if slightly wry smile which lit that thin, attractive face.
Letty Duncannon shook her head and wagged an admonishing finger at her brother.’ ‘Tis a desperate man you are!’ But she laughed as she came abreast of them.
Raising his hands in mock defence, Robert pleaded innocence in a brogue so thick Louisa stared in astonishment. The child’s delighted giggles brought a smile to her lips, broadening as she recognized the play-acting for what it was. She grasped Letty’s outstretched hand as much in gratitude as greeting.
‘Miss Elliott, you must forgive us! We’re all slightly mad, you know, across the Irish Sea.’
‘I don’t believe that for a minute,’ Louisa smiled. ‘Indeed, I hope you’ll forgive me, intruding like this. I was on my way home when I bumped into Georgina.’ She gave a little laugh. ‘We ended up playing hide-and-seek together!’
Letty glanced fondly at her niece. ‘Bread and water for a week, you little minx!’
Fresh giggles and a tugging at her father’s hand gave the lie to that statement; their high spirits signified such affection, Louisa was afraid she was taking up time precious to them all.
‘Well,’ she said brightly, ‘I really must be on my way. It’s so nice to have met you, Miss Duncannon —’
Briefly, Letty’s eyes met her brother’s. ‘Robert has promised to take us to the Exhibition – won’t you join us? That is, unless you’re expected somewhere?’
Beset by her sense of what was right and fitting, Louisa hesitated. ‘Thank you, but –’
‘Oh, don’t be so stuffy, Louisa. Say you’ll come!’ Grinning like a schoolboy, Robert squeezed her arm. ‘You haven’t been, and it finishes tomorrow.’
‘What is it, Daddy?’
Playfully, he tweaked her nose. ‘Shall we find out?’
In the Winter Garden an exhibition of Australian curios had attracted a crowd of lively and interested visitors. There were minerals and models, pictorial views of mountains and mines and giant anthills, solitary sheep stations and empty deserts; there were living plants and lifelike animals, gaudy birds in glass cages and two noisy Laughing Jackasses. And as a further attraction, in case any were necessary, sweet-stalls and a shooting gallery.
Reluctantly, Robert allowed himself to be coerced. Taking up a rifle, he shot two ducks, not well enough to knock them down, then three more, fair and square.
‘Should’ve known you for a military gentleman, sir,’ the stallholder muttered ruefully, offering a selection of cheap prizes.
‘There are a few of us about,’ Robert replied. ‘But worry not, with guns like these, you won’t go out of business!’
Georgina was delighted with her monkey on a stick, inordinately proud of the expertise which had won it. Like a little lap-dog she kept close to his heels as he led them round the rest of the show, while Robert kept up a wittily amusing commentary which, intended or otherwise, effectively covered Louisa’s quietness. Bringing up the rear of the little party, she obligingly looked and smiled, but her mind was occupied elsewhere. To her, Robert and his sister were infinitely more fascinating than any duck-billed platypus or aboriginal artifact.
No stranger, meeting them for the first time, could be mistaken as to their relationship, she decided. They shared similar colouring and bone structure, but it was their facial expressions which were most alike. In his sister’s company, his accent was more noticeable. Robert had always possessed the ability to surprise and confound her; that Letty should do the same was disconcerting. It was one thing for Robert to break the rules: he loved her; that his sister appeared to condone his behaviour went against anything she might have expected. Were they all, as Letty had said, slightly mad across the Irish Sea?
Her acquaintance with Tommy Fitzsimmons was slight, but she thought him simply eccentric. Robert she had thought to be unique. His anecdotes of society and regimental life were often wickedly amusing; they would laugh together like naughty children poking fun at humourless adults. She was often as bad, relating ridiculous incidents never shared before. Yet the laughter, on her part at least, was tinged with guilt, because they mocked the very structure she had been taught to revere. For the first time she began to suspect that, as an outsider, Robert had never revered it. His thinking had been shaped not by the rigidity of the English upper classes, but by a looser and far more complex society, whose roots were meshed with a culture no Englishman would ever understand.
She remembered that he had not been sent to school until the age of thirteen; his father, Robert once explained, had not quite trusted the English public-school system, employing tutors until he felt his sons’ characters were sufficiently formed to withstand those particular rigours. Letty had never been to school at all; as a result, Robert said, she was far more intelligent and well-informed than most men of her age and class. Louisa wondered if that was why she had never married.
Watching them together, Louisa saw how wrong she had been before in making assumptions about his background. In spite of that soft lilt in his voice, she had always thought of him as basically English, yet he was not, and if Letty was a yardstick to measure him by, there had been nothing truly English in his upbringing.
That sudden awareness distanced him; smiling, he turned and spoke to her, but for one unnerving moment his face was that of a stranger.
His hand was on her arm. ‘Are you all right?’ She shook her head, but his tender concern dispelled the panic. ‘It’s warm in here. Let me take you outside.’
‘A goose on my grave – that’s all. I’m all right now, really.’
He was not entirely convinced. ‘Refreshments are being served somewhere. I saw the sign as we came in.’ He turned to Letty. ‘A cup of tea, don’t you think? We could all do with one.’
Georgina slipped her hand into Louisa’s. ‘Was there really a goose on your grave?’
Laughter banished the shadows. ‘I don’t think so, dear. It’s just an expression.’
The child frowned at that, uncomprehending. Louisa bent down to her. ‘An expression is a way of saying something. “A goose on my grave” means that I shivered suddenly, for no good reason. Geese on graves are supposed to be unlucky, I think, and bad luck makes you shiver, doesn’t it? Because you are frightened.’
‘Were you frightened?’
With a smile and crossed fingers, Louisa shook her head. ‘
No, of course not.’
She heard Letty greeting someone, then Robert moved to introduce his daughter, revealing Hugh Darnley and Sophie Bainbridge, and, hovering uncomfortably, one of the younger Bainbridge boys.
‘Oh, isn’t she a dainty little thing!’ Louisa heard Sophie say, her little trill of laughter producing an uncertain smile from the child. ‘And what has she got there? A monkey on a stick! How amusing!’
Georgina retreated to the safety of Letty’s skirts, and Sophie laughed again. Surprised, Darnley caught Louisa’s glance and held it; and with just the right amount of hesitation, as though he had almost forgotten, Robert included her in the introduction. ‘I believe you already know Miss Elliott.’
Manners under control, Darnley smiled and bowed, but Sophie stood and stared, openly taken aback.
‘Of course,’ she said at last. ‘I’d quite forgotten you were acquainted. How are you, Miss Elliott?’
‘I’m very well, Miss Bainbridge.’
‘Quite a coincidence – Rachel only mentioned you yesterday. She was wondering what you were doing now?’
Before Louisa could think of a reply, Robert turned to her with rather a dangerous smile.
‘How touching to be so well-remembered, Miss Elliott! I’m sure you’ll be quite an asset to us in Ireland. Don’t you agree, Letty?’
‘Oh, indeed! I’m most impressed by all I’ve heard.’ Faultless as a star performer, she smiled at Louisa. ‘And Mrs Delaney-Jones spoke so warmly of you before she went abroad, my dear.’
Out of her depth, Louisa bit her lip.
‘Well, I’ve promised these ladies some tea,’ Robert announced heartily, ‘so I’m afraid we must leave you. It’s an excellent show, Darnley. Make sure you see all of it.’
With little nods and bows, they separated, the other party so thoroughly bemused that Louisa found it impossible to control a smile. In the foyer, Robert steered them past the refreshments and towards the open door. ‘Let’s have tea in the hotel – this place is far too crowded. That’s if you don’t mind, Letty?’
Louisa Elliott Page 32