Lavender Lady

by Carola Dunn

  Hester splashed some cold water on her face and peered at herself in the tiny square mirror nailed above the scullery sink. Her eyes were red and slightly swollen. Hastily, she chopped and fried an onion, causing new tears, added a piece of mutton and some carrots and parsnips, a bunch of parsley and a pint of stock, and set it on the fire. Then she took a pot of strawberry jam and went back to the parlour, which was by now pleasantly redolent of singed toast.

  “Geoff!” she said gaily, carefully not looking at Mr. Fairfax, “I vow I don’t know what you do with your onions! They are the hottest I have ever cut up and make me weep monstrously!”

  “You will not let me tell in public what I do with them,” answered Geoff indulgently.

  Susan, noting Mr. Fairfax’s puzzled look, leaned over and whispered in his ear, “Manure!”

  Alice disdainfully affected not to hear.

  Hester was soon provided with hot buttered toast and a cup of tea. She found she had interrupted a disquisition by Alice on the baby’s finer points, of which he apparently had many. Mr. Fairfax had been heartily bored by the subject for several minutes, but seeing that Hester did not look well and seemed disinclined for conversation, he encouraged her sister. Hester read this as yet another confirmation of love. She was gazing despondently out of the French windows at Geoff’s dismal, dripping garden when Robbie appeared with his coat in a dark-stained bundle in his arms and blood streaking down his legs.

  Hester jumped up and threw open the door.

  “Robbie!” she cried. “Are you badly hurt?”

  “It’s not me,” he replied in a shaky voice. His face was smeared with mud where he had apparently rubbed his eyes. He thrust the bundle at his sister. “Look!”

  Hester cautiously unwrapped the ruined jacket as the others crowded round. She flinched.

  “Alice, Susan, don’t look,” she said quickly. “Geoff, come with me into the kitchen, please. We’ll do what we can, Rob dear.” She dropped a kiss on his wet head.

  “It’s a rabbit,” he explained importantly, his sangfroid restored now that his sister had taken over. “I was down in Mr. Jenkins’s field and I heard it crying.” He shivered with remembered horror. “It was right by the hedge and its foot was in one of those wire loops and I was trying to get it out, but it was scared and it kept pulling and the wire got tighter and tighter and I didn’t know what to do. There was blood all over.”

  Alice shrieked and fled, leaving baby John on Mr. Fairfax’s lap, where she had put him to demonstrate how sweetly he behaved.

  “There still is blood all over,” pointed out James. “You’d better go change and wash, Rob. Well done, young ‘un.”

  “I’ll rinse your clothes out,” offered Susan. “Blood stains if you don’t do it right away, Ivy says.”

  “Beat you upstairs!” cried Robbie, and they dashed out.

  “James,” said Mr. Fairfax in an ominous voice, “would you kindly remove this infant, at once if not sooner. Though I rather fear it is too late.”

  Little John’s removal revealed a large damp patch. James shouted with laughter and the baby wailed, while Mr. Fairfax sighed in resignation.

  “You had best give the child to one sister and my shirt to another,” he suggested, “if you can restrain your mirth sufficiently. And I should like a clean shirt before the third sister returns. I do not think I am unreasonably demanding?”

  “N-no, sir,” spluttered Jamie. “I do beg your pardon; you must be most uncomfortable, only your face . . .! I’ll go at once.”

  Hester was the first to return. Her face was very pale, and in his concern Mr. Fairfax forgot to feel embarrassed at his dishabille. She did not seem to notice his lack of a shirt and smiled tiredly at him. “I think the poor thing will survive. I daresay it should have gone in the pot, as Geoff proposed, but after Rob rescued it, what could I do? I’d have acted likewise if I’d been brave enough, though I suppose it was some unfortunate man’s dinner.”

  “Times are hard, and men must feed their families as they can,” he answered, “but those gin snares are horrible things, I agree. I think you are fagged to death, Miss Godric. Can you not lie down for a while?”

  “I believe I will,” she murmured gratefully. “Dinner is cooking, and there is nothing that must be done presently. Was Robbie still distressed when last you saw him?”

  “Right as a trivet. He is a lad to be proud of.”

  “Indeed, I am proud of him.” Hester smiled warmly at him. “Would you please ask one of the children to call me at seven? I shall rest in the drawing room, as little John has driven me from my chamber.”

  In the few minutes before Jamie arrived with a clean shirt, Mr. Fairfax treasured her smile. It transformed her face and gave her, he felt, a beauty transcending her sister’s. If he could conjure it forth by praising her family, then he would be lavish with his praise, which would not be difficult. He wished that his own family had been like this one that had adopted him.

  The next day he was tired, though Hester seemed to have recovered her accustomed energy. He almost decided to stay in bed, but Mr. Stevens had sent a message that he would call that afternoon and hoped to meet his granddaughter’s guest, and he did not want to offend the old man.

  He told Hester he would not get up until after lunch, being a little fatigued.

  “You certainly should go down,” she replied, “though you must not overdo it. You will not wish to remain an invalid for the rest of your life! However, perhaps Grandpapa had best come tomorrow.”

  “I am anxious to make his acquaintance,” he told Hester. “Besides, if I want to conquer this weakness, I must exert myself. It is extraordinary how tiring it is to allow oneself to be carried.”

  “Your leg is not painful, is it?”

  “No, never a twinge. It aches, but Dr. Price warned me that it would.”

  “This damp weather is bad for such things. You have become a rheumaticky old man and can discuss your symptoms with my grandfather.” In spite of a resolve to keep a distance, Hester found herself treating him the same as always. He was so easy to talk to. He understood her teasing, did not take offence, and teased her in return. She suddenly realised that it was the first time she had had a relationship with someone she could treat as an equal, as a genuine friend, and made up her mind to enjoy it to the full for the short time he would be there.

  Unexpectedly light-hearted, she smiled at him and added, “I expect he will offer you some of his liniment, but I must warn you, it smells atrociously and if you accept it, you will be ostracised.”

  “I shall avoid the subject assiduously. What others is your grandpapa interested in?” Mr. Fairfax found himself unaccountably nervous and anxious to make a good impression.

  “I expect he would like to hear about your travels. He used to have goods from every part of the world in his shops, and when I was a child he’d make up stories about different countries. I’m sure he would like to know what they are really like.”

  “His imaginary world is probably more exciting by half.”

  “Not if I am to judge by the tales you have told Rob. They are just Grandpapa’s style, I assure you. He dearly loves a tall tale.”

  “Wretch! Has Robbie passed them all on then?”

  “I fear he will be sadly disappointed when he goes to see for himself.”

  “No, for then he will be older and will be excited by different things. I did not find my journeyings dull.”

  * * * *

  Today’s excursion was merely down a pair of stairs, but when he was once more settled on the old sofa, he was glad the trip was over. He felt weak as a kitten. However, as he boasted to Hester, he was not dizzy this time.

  Grandfather Stevens joined the family for luncheon and was ceremoniously introduced to Mr. Fairfax. To Hester, anxious that they should like each other, they had the air of a couple of dogs, circling warily, trying to decide whether or not to fight. To her relief, they apparently resolved on a truce, and luncheon was an amicable meal, marre
d only by Robbie’s ghoulish description to Grandpa of the rabbit’s injuries. Alice was on the point of rushing out, handkerchief pressed to white lips, when he was stopped.

  “It’s better now, Allie,” he protested indignantly, “so there’s nothing to carry on about. It ate a whole carrot this morning.”

  “A carefully washed, scraped, and sliced one,” Hester sighed. “I should have guessed where it disappeared to.”

  As soon as the table was cleared, everyone quietly faded away, leaving the two men confronting each other. Perceiving a martial light in the old man’s eye, Mr. Fairfax felt as if he had been led into a Roman arena and abandoned there to face the lion.

  Mr. Stevens, never one for roundaboutation, came straight to the point.

  “Dessay wi’ your looks ye’re a bit of a ladies’ man?” he queried.

  “I’ve had my successes,” admitted Mr. Fairfax with cautious modesty.

  “Well ye’ll just stay away from my granddaughters, ye hear me?” The old man was fierce.

  “I’ve no designs whatever on the Misses Godric, my good man.” It was Lord Alton who replied, with aristocratic hauteur for which he was immediately sorry.

  “No need to take offence, young fella,” said Mr. Stevens mildly, but with no sign of obsequiousness. “Jamie’s a good lad, but there’s no man in the house to watch out for the girls, and a poor sort o’ grandpa I’d be if I didn’t keep me eye on ‘em.”

  “Of course, you have every right and duty, sir,” apologised Mr. Fairfax. “I beg your pardon for getting on my high ropes. I am glad to know that someone other than the curate is concerned for them.”

  “That mealy-mouthed Pettigrew? What’s he got to say to the matter?”

  Mr. Fairfax described his interview with the unfortunate curate, and Mr. Stevens laughed heartily.

  “Put him in his place all right,” he chortled. “Alice deserves better nor he, and my Hester promised her ma she’d see her come out proper. She don’t expect nothing like that for herself, though,” he added wistfully. “Only time I regret what I been. But there, if I hadn’t done well in business, there’d be no chance o’ gadding about, any road. Well, I’ve no call to bother ye wi’ such things. Rob tells ye’ve been a travelling man. Have ye been to Jamaica, lad?”

  Rapport once established, the conversation rambled comfortably this way and that. It was a couple of hours before Mr. Stevens pulled a huge gold turnip watch from his waistcoat pocket, opened it, and regarded it with a sigh. “Hester warned me not to tire you, and here I’ve been forgetting ye’re an invalid. I’ll be on my way, young man, but first ye’ll kindly tell me who ye really be.”

  “I . . . I beg your pardon, sir?” Mr. Fairfax was completely taken aback.

  “My Hester’s not had much experience wi’ high society, but I have, and ye’ll not cozen me ye’re nobbut a plain mister. Ye’ve aristocracy writ large all over, and I’d wager a month’s take ye’re accustomed to sit in the House o’ Lords. What’s your game, young fella-me-lad?”

  “None, sir. It was a mere whim. A decision made on the spur of the moment when I had scarce spoken to Miss Godric.”

  “And your name?”

  “Oh, my name is David Fairfax. I did not precisely lie. Only I happen to be the Earl of Alton. I expect you will not understand, but all my life people have treated me as a peer, or at least as heir to one, and I had a fancy to see if I could make my way incognito. Remember, too, that I had just received a blow to the head! I’d not have deceived Hester—Miss Godric—had I known her then as I do now, and now I do not know how to undo my deceit. Shall you tell her, sir?”

  Mr. Stevens pondered. “Nay, lad,” he answered at last. “‘Twould serve no purpose as I can see, and ye’ll not be here forever. But my girl trusts you, and I’ll not have her hurt. Ye’ll make mighty sure she’ll not find out.”

  “I will, Mr. Stevens. I am truly sorry for all the trouble I am causing.”

  “I believe ye, I believe ye, though I’m danged if I know why! Good day to ye, m’lord. Take care o’ that leg, lad.” He went off shaking his head over the foibles of the aristocracy, or possibly those of the younger generation.

  Lord Alton, unmasked, lay back against his pillows with his eyes closed and breathed deeply. Who would have thought the old fellow would be so perspicacious? He’d be danged himself if he knew how he had given himself away.

  He found himself as reluctant as ever to have Hester know of his deception. Her grandfather was right; the discovery might hurt her, and that was not to be thought of. It crossed his mind that if Alice went to town for the season, she would inevitably be enlightened and would certainly pass on the news. However, he managed to persuade himself that after a few months back in his usual milieu he would be quite uninterested in the Godrics’ feelings, and anyway, she might not go.

  Robbie peeped round the door and saw Mr. Fairfax’s eyes open at last. Purple with suppressed excitement, he burst in.

  “Sir! Sir!” he shouted, “there’s a letter come from Aunt Bardry, and we’re all to go to London!”

  Chapter 7

  Dear Niece,

  For the sake of my poor dear Sister, I shall be happy to receive you in Holles Street in the Spring. Your Cousin Sophie will also Come Out next Season so I shall be subject to Great Expence. I understand that a Connexion of your Papa’s is able to defray the Cost of your Season, so that we may hope to rig you out in tolerable Style and contrive an Eligible Match.

  Henrietta Bardry.

  “You’ll not go, Alice!” The usually restrained Jamie was scarlet with fury. “The dreadful woman to speak so of Hester! I don’t care if she is Mama’s sister; this is outside of enough!”

  “Oh, Jamie, I do not wish to go!” Alice’s eyes filled with tears. “She sounds so cold, not welcoming at all. I could not bear to be alone in London in such a household, with all of you so far away.”

  “Of course you shall go,” declared Hester firmly. “It was your mama’s dearest wish that you should be introduced to polite society. I am sure Lady Bardry is not unkind. I expect she was embarrassed at having to write such a letter.”

  “And so she should be! To write to Allie instead of to you and then to address it to ‘Miss Godric’ as though you did not exist!” Jamie, once roused, was not easily mollified. “I call it the height of discourtesy, and if that is an example of polite society, I am sure I cannot guess where it came by the name.”

  “Pray do not make me go,” wept Alice. Jamie looked at her in disgust and stalked out to find Geoff and tell him the news.

  “My dear, I know you will enjoy it if you will only compose yourself. And I hope we will not be so very far from you. I have not mentioned it before, for it seemed like castles in Spain, but I have been asked to rent out this house for the spring and summer at the most exorbitant rate. Of course, it is Jamie’s house and his decision, but if he should like it, we will all remove to London to be near you, and then go together to the seaside in July.”

  Robbie and Susan, who had been interested spectators of the entire scene, jumped up and down and clapped their hands.

  “Can we go to Portsmouth, Hester, can we?” cried Robbie. “And see the navy and all the ships and go sailing on the real sea? Oh, please say we may!”

  “I need a new dress for London,” pointed out Susan, pastry-cook and saint both in abeyance. “Can we go to Vauxhall Gardens and see the fireworks?”

  “Hush, children, hush. Nothing is settled yet, so off you go and let me talk to Alice.”

  While Robbie went to inform Mr. Fairfax of the great treat in store, Susan first told Ivy, before running down the garden to Grandpa Stevens’s cottage. Soon the whole household was discussing Lady Bardry’s letter.

  James, still in a rage, had given Geoffrey the details of the letter and finding his sentiments on the subject entered into exactly, he was able to calm down.

  “Of course Hester is right,” he admitted.”Alice must go. She is such a wet-goose—dripping all over, in fact—bu
t it is the only chance she will have to find a creditable husband. Geoff, should you like to go to London for a few months?”

  “Me? You mean all of us? That would be above anything great, to see all the sights—the menagerie at the Tower and the theatres and . . . oh, everything.”

  “I should like to go to the theatres,” agreed Jamie, “and to the British Museum to see Lord Elgin’s marbles. Only I cannot like the idea of renting out the house to strangers. However, it falls mighty apropos, and I know Hester would prefer to be near Allie. You wouldn’t believe what they have offered. We should be able easily to afford a small house and a servant in London, and have some over to help with Allie’s expenses.”

  “That rankles, doesn’t it? Having Hester pay for her season? You know she wants to do it, Jamie, and I daresay you could not stop her if you tried.”

  “I know, I know. But it was damnable of Papa to leave me in such a situation. You do not know the half of it.”

  “That we are living on Hester’s fortune?”

  “And that her grandfather frequently helps out. She always told me that this house was bought with the proceeds of the sale of the manor, but I know how encumbered it was, and I am certain that Grandpapa had a hand in the purchase. How much I cannot guess,” said Jamie bitterly. “I do not want so much for myself—just my books and a roof over my head—but that I should be unable to provide for my brothers and sisters!”

  “You could refuse to let Alice go to London. She does not wish to go.”

  “How can I go against Hester’s wishes? Besides, it was what Mama wanted, and it is my duty to see that Alice finds an eligible husband. There are none around here, you must agree. Oh, Geoff, I do not know what to do for the best!”