by Carola Dunn
“Should you object to consulting Mr. Fairfax?” suggested Geoffrey cautiously. “Don’t chew my head off now. He’s not a member of the family, but that will make it easier for him to judge impartially, and he does know us all pretty well. You must admit he’s up to every rig and row, and you need not take his advice, after all.”
“I could never tell him I’m hanging on Hester’s purse-strings!”
Geoffrey cleared his throat. “I—er—I rather think he already knows. You may call me any name you choose and I will deserve it, but I let it drop, oh, an age ago,” he confessed.
“Will you never learn to hold your tongue, you rattlepated, clothheaded . . . !” began Jamie furiously, then paused. “Well, you deserve it, Geoff; only it will make it much easier to talk to Mr. Fairfax, so perhaps I should thank you. Come on, let’s go see him.”
Susan caught up with them as they entered the house.
“Jamie, Grandpa says he’ll watch the house while we are in London, so please may we go? Please?” she begged.
Robbie barrelled out of the back parlour.
“Jamie, when we go to London, Mr. Fairfax will take me to the Royal Dockyard to see the navy ships. Do you want to come too?”
“I haven’t decided yet whether we shall all go or not,” Jamie told them repressively. “Geoff, will you keep them out of my hair while I talk to Mr. Fairfax?”
Geoff bore his protesting juniors off to the kitchen, where Hester had just succeeded in persuading Alice that there was a faint possibility that she might enjoy her London visit.
She herself, while determined that Alice must go to her aunt, had ambivalent feelings about taking the whole family. The labour involved in moving the entire household to furnished lodgings was by itself enough to make her quail when she remembered the difficulty of simply moving down the hill two years ago. She almost wished she had never proposed the plan to James, let alone mentioned it to the others.
However, her original reasons still stood. After the desirability of being close to Alice, Jamie was at the forefront of her thoughts. He must have the chance to acquire a little town bronze before going up to Oxford, to learn how to go on in the world outside the limited society of Henley. Surely through his aunt he might meet some young gentlemen who would introduce him to the kind of life that was his birthright. Hester had no fears that he would be led astray. She had too high an opinion of his conscientiousness and sense of responsibility. And she was ignorant of the lures, snares, and pitfalls set in the way of the unwary country youth by the predators of the capital.
Geoffrey, Susan, and Robbie she expected to profit more from the anticipated sojourn by the sea, though doubtless they would enjoy the sights of London. For her own pleasure she had no thought, sure that as long as her brothers and sisters were happy, she would be content anywhere from Calcutta to Botany Bay.
When James approached Mr. Fairfax for counsel, that gentleman had just submitted for a quarter of an hour to a battery of questions on the London docks, the possibility of riding in a steamship on the Thames, and which ships of His Majesty’s Navy were likely to be in Portsmouth or Plymouth next summer. Compared to that interrogation, a query about the right course of action for a gentleman to pursue was a restorative.
“I’d like to ask your advice,” James started hesitantly. “I’m not sure where to begin.”
“Go ahead and open your budget,” encouraged Mr. Fairfax.
The whole story flooded out. In his relief at being able to share his worries, Jamie disclosed a good deal more than he either realised or intended, and Mr. Fairfax began to understand the strain be was under with no father to guide him. Even an unsatisfactory father, such as Ralph Godric had been, would be preferable, he thought, and he resolved to do all in his power to smooth the way of this earnest, likable youth who was so ready to trust him. He turned his mind to the present problem.
“I believe you should go,” he affirmed decisively, “for any number of reasons. The chief is that Alice will not be happy on her own and Hester will worry about her. And if you find yourself plump in the pocket, do not spend it on Alice’s milliners, but hire another servant so that Hester has time to enjoy herself. In fact, if I were you, I should stipulate that Alice must make all her own gowns. That will keep her mind occupied for the next few months and save your sister’s purse at the same time.”
“What a capital notion! She’ll have no time to fly into alt. And of course you are right about the other things. Hester is the only one I should consider, for she takes care of all of us, and no one looks after her. Thank you, sir, you’re a great gun.”
“I do my modest best,” replied Mr. Fairfax with a grin. “I cannot say that I have experience with such problems, but I hope my instincts will pull you through. James, should you find yourself in difficulties of any kind in London, I wish you will bring them to me and not trouble your sister. Call it a small return for your hospitality. There, someone is knocking at the door,” he added with relief.
Mr. Fairfax was appalled with the way his usually disciplined tongue was running away with him these days. What on earth had made him volunteer to take on the troubles of a schoolboy? The memory of Hester’s sweet smile and gentle, competent hands rose in his mind, and with an internal sigh of resignation he realised that he would go to a great deal of effort to shield her from anxiety. A small return for her hospitality, he assured himself.
As he went to the door, Jamie directed at him a look loaded with gratitude, and all at once he was happy he had made the offer.
Robbie was about to knock again when James opened the door. “Hester says it’s teatime and she’ll bring in the tray if you two have finished con . . . conspiring, I think she said. Have you? And are we going to London, Jamie?”
“Yes, we’ll all go if everything works out.”
Robbie’s whoops could be heard all the way to the kitchen.
* * * *
On his third day below stairs, Mr. Fairfax was almost disappointed to be greeted by no alarums and excursions. No injured animals, no astute elders, no epistles from obnoxious aunts disturbed the peace. There was a moment fraught with possibilities when Robbie refused to see why he should have his lessons from Hester when James was allowed to study with Mr. Fairfax. And Susan shed a few tears at dinner when her first-ever plum tart emerged scorched from the oven.
A felicitous domestic evening followed, but the next few days brought a constant stream of visitors, as word spread that the gentleman from London was on show. By the end of the following week, Mr. Fairfax felt he must have been displayed to the entire population of Henley. So when, as they sat at tea on Friday afternoon, a carriage stopped in the street and the front door knocker was heard, he groaned.
“Susan, go and see who it is, please,” requested Hester. “I cannot imagine who would arrive in a carriage at this time.”
Susan returned in a few moments.
“It’s a parson,” she announced. “He wants to speak privately with Hester, so I put him in the drawing room. Do you suppose . . .”
They all looked at each other with a sudden surmise.
“Grace,” breathed Hester. “I’ll go at once.”
As she entered the drawing room, a tired-looking young man in his late twenties rose from the chair where he had slumped.
“Miss Godric?” he asked. “I am John Collingwood. I only recently received your letter because I have been away from home, looking for my poor sister.”
The sadness and pity in his voice brought tears to Hester’s eyes. Stepping forward, she took both his hands.
“Grace died assured of your compassion,” she told him earnestly, “and in the expectation of forgiveness. You will wish to speak to our vicar, Mr. Smythe, I am sure, but you look so very weary, sir. Pray sit down, and I will bring you a cup of tea and tell you all I can.”
Geoffrey was sent to the Bull to take a room for Mr. Collingwood, and Hester remained closeted with him for a long time. At last she called Alice, who took him to s
ee his nephew.
“Your sister is a wonderful person,” he said as they climbed the stairs. “And she told me how you rescued Grace, Miss Alice. I thank you from the bottom of my heart.”
“It was Susan’s doing, really,” disclaimed Alice, blushing rosily, “but I have been taking care of little John. He is the sweetest baby. Shall you take him with you?”
“Yes, of course, if you think he is not too young to travel. Unfortunately, I am a bachelor, but I shall hire a nurse and give the child the best upbringing I am able.”
“I am sure you will.” Alice turned on him a glowing look that pierced the shell of his preoccupation. He suddenly noticed that he was talking to an exceptionally beautiful young woman, and the halo he had already perceived above her head did nothing to detract from this image.
Hester had relinquished her chamber to Alice and the baby, and had moved in with Susan. As Mr. Collingwood followed Alice, it was perfectly obvious to him that he was entering a lady’s bedchamber. It was his turn to blush. His collar felt too tight, so he ran a finger round inside it. Happily reminded of his vocation, he regained his composure, only to lose it again when the child gazed at him with Grace’s huge blue eyes. The strain of his long search and two days of uninterrupted journeying caught up with him abruptly, and he wept.
Alice naturally burst into tears too, and some moments later, when the baby joined in and his cries inexorably drew Alice’s attention, they found they were holding each other comfortingly.
Scarlet with confusion, Alice bowed her head over little John as she calmed him. Equally flustered, embarrassed, and appalled at his own behaviour, and slightly dizzy with fatigue, Mr. Collingwood did the first thing that came into his head. Bending over the chair in which Alice now sat, he said softly into the shell-like perfection of her ear:
“Miss Alice, will you marry me?”
Alice burst into tears again.
“Oh dear,” she wailed, “Hester will say I am always falling in love, but indeed it is different this time; I know it is!”
Staggered by this evidence that his own astounding sentiments were reciprocated, Mr. Collingwood ventured once more to place a consoling arm around Alice’s shoulders.
“My dear,” he soothed, “pray do not weep. I am taken quite by surprise at my own feelings, and it was very wrong in me to speak to you so abruptly. You must forgive me; I am fagged to death and cannot think clearly.”
Alice raised brimming brown eyes, quite unreddened by her tears.
“You must think me very inconsiderate, sir, not to have realised that. I daresay you will see everything quite differently in the morning,” she said wistfully.
“Oh no, I would not have you think I did not mean . . . But you are an angel of compassion. You spoke unthinkingly, to comfort me. You must have time to consider, to reflect. I shall not hold you to your words, have no fear. I’d best go now, my dear Miss Alice.”
“You will come tomorrow?”
“I will come.” Mr. Collingwood kissed Alice’s hand reverently and took his leave.
Below stairs he found Hester, who thought him agitated merely by the sight of Grace’s child.
“Pray excuse me, Miss Godric,” he apologised hurriedly, “I shall retire to the inn presently. I find myself overcome by weariness.”
“Of course, Mr. Collingwood. You will treat this house as your home, I hope. I only wish I could offer you a chamber. You will join us for luncheon tomorrow?”
“Thank you, ma’am, I . . . That is, it is . . .”
“You are too tired to talk.” Hester smiled in sympathy. “Geoff shall drive you to the inn at once; and we will see you tomorrow whenever it suits you. Good night, sir, and rest well.”
Hester went upstairs and found her sister rocking the baby and gazing starry-eyed into the middle distance.
“Oh no, Allie, do not tell me you are in love again!” she exclaimed crossly, recognising the symptoms. “Really, you only met him half an hour ago.”
“I was never in love before,” stated Alice with calm certainty. “He is . . . you would not understand, you have never been in love.”
“And I suppose he has already developed a passion for you,” Hester sighed. “There are times when I am positively glad I have no looks. Supper is ready; I’ve had no time to prepare a proper dinner.”
“I could not eat. Pray go ahead without me. I shall feed little John.”
Hester told the others that Alice was overwrought after the emotions of the evening, which surprised no one. She did not wish to hurt Mr. Fairfax by revealing that her sister had fallen in love with a gentleman with whom she was scarce acquainted. Mr. Collingwood might be an amiable and principled young man, but it was incomprehensible to her that Alice could prefer him to Mr. Fairfax.
In the morning she underwent the expected difficult interview. Never before had it occurred so soon after the enamoured suitor had set eyes on Alice.
“Mr. Collingwood,” she protested, “my sister is truly beautiful and has taken excellent care of your nephew, but you cannot consider that a sound basis for marriage. You do not know her at all. I must tell you that Alice has excessive sensibilities, and her nerves are easily overset.”
“The sweetest sensitivity! I realise, Miss Godric, that this must seem very sudden to you. Indeed, I am myself amazed. To tell the truth, I was wont always to scoff at tales of love at first sight. Now I know better.”
“I hate to disillusion you, but Allie is quite used to falling in love at first sight. I have lost count of the number of times she has done so.”
“I do understand, ma’am. She is very young. You must not think that I intend to rush her into a decision. I shall not approach her again upon the subject of matrimony until you and she are both satisfied that our mutual affection will endure.”
“I will be open with you, Mr. Collingwood. You see us in straitened circumstances, but Alice comes of excellent parentage and may look higher than a country clergyman for a husband. I hope you will not think me high in the instep. I promised my stepmother that she should have her season in London and a chance at making a creditable match. You look surprised. You have not had enough conversation with Alice even to know that I am her half sister, or that she is to spend next spring in town with her aunt, Lady Bardry.”
“You are right,” acknowledged the young vicar humbly. “I know nothing of your family save that you are kind and charitable. My thoughts should be on Grace and her child, and I have succumbed to the first real temptation I have ever met.”
“Pray do not judge yourself harshly, sir. Alice’s appearance has turned many heads, and I’ve no doubt yours will not be the last. I expect the spell will vanish as soon as you return to the West Country with little John.”
“I do not think so. I cannot believe it! You will not forbid me to see her?”
“No, indeed! I have no right to resort to such strict measures, and besides, it would be the surest way to confirm you as a romantic hero in Alice’s eyes. She is addicted to romantic novels, you know. No, you may see her when you will, and I shall rely on time to do its work. You do not think I have any personal prejudice against you, I hope,” added Hester pleadingly. “I must do my duty to my stepmother. She was so very good to me, and Jamie is still over-young for such tasks. I find these interviews excessively painful.”
Mr. Collingwood found himself pitying where he had thought to be worthy of pity. It dawned on him that Hester herself was over-young to be taking on such responsibilities, and the admiration and gratitude he had felt toward her on account of her care for his sister returned redoubled.
“Your attention to duty is highly praiseworthy,” he said gravely, if somewhat ponderously, and taking both the hands that were stretched toward him in an entreaty for understanding, he raised one to his lips just as Robbie burst into the drawing room.
“Hester, may I take my rabbit into the parlour? Mr. Fairfax wants to see it, and Jamie said you would not like it.”
“Robbie, I’ve tol
d you a hundred times to knock before you enter. You may fetch the rabbit from the kitchen, but be very gentle with it and take it back in twenty minutes without fail. Mr. Collingwood, I expect you will want to see the baby. I believe Alice is with him now.”
Throwing her a look of gratitude, the young vicar left, and Hester made for the kitchen, where Susan was immersed in preparations for luncheon. Robbie went off in triumph to the back parlour.
“Hester says I can, so there,” he informed Jamie, and added, “Mr. Collingwood was kissing her.”
“What!” Jamie and Geoff both jumped to their feet. “Is she very distressed?” asked Jamie anxiously.
“No, she just said, ‘Robbie, I’ve told you a hundred times to knock before you enter.’ That makes a hundred and one, but she always says it, so I don’t think she is keeping count properly. I’m going to get my rabbit.”
Jamie and Geoff glanced at each other with mingled exasperation and dismay, and then turned as one to Mr. Fairfax, who was looking furious.
“The popinjay!” he exploded. “I shall call him out!”
“You can’t do that,” pointed out Geoffrey. “You can’t stand, and he is a clergyman.”
“And if Hester did not object, what can I do?” queried Jamie helplessly. “I am not her father.”
They all looked at each other, nonplussed.
Robbie, never one to take his time, bounced in with the rabbit in his arms.
“Hester’s making lunch,” he announced. “We’re having grilled trout for special, ‘cos Mr. Collingwood is here. Look, sir, here’s my rabbit. It’s almost better.”
Admirably concealing his agitation at the continuous stream of artless revelations, Mr. Fairfax duly examined the creature.
“Does it not have a name?” he asked.
“I don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl.”
“Call it Fricassee,” suggested Geoffrey callously. “Then it doesn’t matter which it is.”