by Jane Rubino
Every day Catherine had made some mention of Parklands and how eager their parents were for a visit, but she had begun to despair of Reginald’s spending any time in Kent before he settled in town. She was very surprised, therefore, when he came down to breakfast one morning and made a startling announcement.
“Catherine, I mean to go to Kent this week. I will send James ahead with the hunters this morning and be off myself in two days’ time. As the journey must take me through London, if there is any commission that you, Charles, or any of the ladies would like for me to perform, have your petitions ready.”
Both Catherine and Charles were astonished and excessively pleased, though for very different reasons; she supposed that Reginald’s infatuation for Lady Vernon had run its course, while he was persuaded that Reginald meant to apply to his parents for their consent to marry her without delay.
Charles congratulated himself on the prospect of Lady Vernon’s marriage to his brother. As Reginald’s wife, she would be so rich and important that there would be no more musings and inquiries about why Sir Frederick had left her so poor. And yet he could not be entirely happy. Lady Vernon was so very lovely—much prettier than she had been when she first came to Churchill. Indeed, she was in such radiant good looks that she appeared almost young enough to be Miss Vernon’s sister, and Charles could not but reflect what his happiness would have been if she had chosen him over Frederick. Then, left in his present situation, with an income that would not support his indulgences, and already weary of the quiet, country style of living, he would at least have got a more charming partner out of the bargain. But no, she had brought nothing into her marriage with Sir Frederick, and she possessed nothing that he had not got his hands on but for a house in town.
Lady Vernon, who suspected Reginald’s motives, wished that he would remain at Churchill only a little longer. She did not doubt that Frederica had engaged his interest and sympathy; that he was in a fair way to being in love was evident, but Lady Vernon would have him firmly in love before he went away.
Catherine, for her part, was relieved that the affair that had given her so much anxiety was drawing to a happy conclusion. Her conviction that it had been her own influence with her brother that had affected his decision gave her such satisfaction that she was able to look upon his attentions toward Lady Vernon and her daughter as nothing more than polite indifference.
chapter thirty-eight
Lady Vernon to Mrs. Johnson
Churchill Manor
My dear Alicia,
This morning Reginald declared his intention to return to Parklands. I must anticipate that once in Kent, he must succumb to his parents’ wishes for his future. I am resigned. Even you, my dear friend, cannot flatter me into prosperity, and a jeune fille with thirty thousand must eclipse a widow who is some years Reginald’s senior and who has no more than a modest jointure and a house in town.
Lady Vernon was interrupted in her writing by the sound of a rapid footstep in the hallway.
Frederica burst into the room. “Forgive me, madam—our cousin has come! Mr. deCourcy and I saw his carriage turn down the avenue!”
“Surely you are mistaken!”
“He is this minute sitting in the drawing room! What are we to do? What will he think! He takes my cousin James for a suitor! Why did we not undeceive everybody? It was wrong, very wrong.”
“Your cousin was happy enough to encourage the gossip,” Lady Vernon replied in great exasperation. “It was only when his suit was cast as objectionable and unwanted that he began to mind it. How provoking! He means to do mischief, to be sure!”
This remark put Frederica very near tears. “I do not like Mr. deCourcy to think that my cousin and I are to be married. What are we to do?”
“You and Wilson go down. Tell your cousin that I will join you directly. Your aunt is with the children, and I must inform her of what will be regarded as a most unwelcome imposition.”
Lady Vernon knew that Catherine did not like any variation in her narrow routine, but she was always weak on the side of vanity. Lady Vernon, therefore, addressed this side when she said, “My cousin’s unexpected visit requires some apology to you, my dear sister. I can only account for it by supposing that he means to join the Parkers’ large party at Billingshurst and could not come into the neighborhood without waiting upon you and my brother.”
“Billingshurst is ten miles off,” remarked Catherine, who could not imagine going so far to pay her compliments to anyone.
“Sir James possesses the sort of affability and easy confidence that rejects the notion that such a visit might be unwelcome or that it might be an imposition upon the hospitality of equals, particularly when we are on such excellent terms.”
For her own part, Catherine could only hope that the terms did not comprehend Lady Vernon hereafter becoming Reginald’s wife, and though Catherine would not have gone a great distance to meet Sir James Martin, as he had come to Churchill, she was curious to see him.
“Cousin!” cried Sir James when the ladies entered the room, and he stepped forward to meet Lady Vernon. His merry glance met her cross one with equanimity.
Lady Vernon made the introductions, and Catherine bade them all sit down together.
“I take a great liberty in coming to Churchill,” Sir James addressed Catherine. “I hope you will forgive it—I know you shall, for my cousin has written to me that your kindness and affection are very great, so great that it must extend to her kin.”
“And how does my Aunt Martin fare now that she is left alone?” Lady Vernon inquired of her cousin.
“Very well, I trust. When I was with her last, she did complain of some trifling ailment or other, but she seemed to improve as my departure drew near, and now that I am gone I have no doubt but that she is entirely well.”
“Then you are settled in town for the season?” Catherine asked.
“I am as settled as any poor bachelor ever is.” Sir James laughed. “We settle ourselves wherever we are invited to stay. I hope that I do not take too great a liberty to impose myself upon your hospitality, Mrs. Vernon. If I do, you must take it to be the liberty of a relation.”
Catherine was obliged to proffer an invitation for him to stay at Churchill for the present, “as you have no place else to go.”
Sir James thanked her with a warmth that nearly provoked a laugh from Lady Vernon. “I called at Edward Street three evenings ago, and Mrs. Johnson urges me to tell you how happy she will be to have you in London once more and to convey to you both her very best love. I did protest that she could not possess better love for you than your nearest relation.”
Frederica ventured to speak. “And Mr. Johnson? Is he well?”
“He commissioned me to bring you something from his library,” Sir James replied as he took a packet from his coat. “And this is what I chose. A Collection of Passion-Flowers from Nature. I hope that you approve, cousin.”
Frederica blushed and murmured her thanks, avoiding Reginald’s gaze. He observed this exchange in perfect silence but with a heightened color that suggested that he was not pleased to have Sir James at Churchill Manor.
“I cannot think that Mr. Johnson knows anything of passionflowers,” Lady Vernon remarked.
“Perhaps that is why he is willing to part with it,” Sir James replied. “And I am quite certain that Mrs. Johnson will not feel the loss of it. I must offer my congratulations to you, madam,” he addressed Catherine, “and to Mr. deCourcy on the marriage of your cousin Miss Lucy Hamilton to Mr. Charles Smith. I hope that they are very happy.”
Reginald’s expression assumed a greater shade of hauteur, but the remark induced him to speak at last. “I have no reason to believe that they are not.”
“Nor have I. Smith has a frank and open disposition, and Miss Lucy Hamilton has never possessed the convenient talent of affecting sensations foreign to her heart. With nothing like artifice in her nature nor reserve in his, I think they have as fair a chance at happiness as those
whose unions were a sacrifice to policy or ambition.”
“Your opinion of marriage does not sound entirely favorable, sir,” Reginald deCourcy observed.
“I am always influenced by what is before me. Now that I am at Churchill, I think there can be no better state.”
“If you are so easily swayed, your opinion may reverse when you go away again,” Reginald observed.
“I hope that when I do go, it will be with an even happier view of matrimony than when I came.”
“Unfortunately, Mr. deCourcy will not be able to witness your change of sentiment,” Lady Vernon remarked. “He is to leave Churchill before the end of the week.”
“But not leave Sussex, I trust,” Sir James said with a smile, “as I understand that some of your relations will be at Billingshurst.”
“I go directly to London and then on to Parklands.”
“How regrettable! But Mrs. Vernon will have the pleasure of seeing them, I have no doubt.”
Catherine was somewhat distressed at this assertion. If any of her relations were to come as far as Billingshurst, she would indeed be obliged to do something, though she did not know what. She could not expect them to come ten miles to drink tea. They would have to be asked to dine. Would she be obliged to invite Miss Maria Manwaring as well? She was a particular friend of Miss Vernon’s, but of late Charles had spoken of Manwaring with something like aversion. Catherine sighed and wished that they were all back at Parklands, where the matter of what was due to anybody had been left in her mother’s capable hands.
“It has been a long time since I have seen anything of this part of the country and nothing suits me so well as a brisk walk after being confined to a carriage for many miles. We will excuse Mr. deCourcy, as he must have something better to attend to, but I think I can coax my cousins into a little walking party. And you will join us, will you not, Mrs. Vernon?”
Catherine was obliged to excuse herself, saying that she never walked and that she ought to return to the nursery. Sir James laughed and said that he hoped to be introduced to the little Vernons ere long, and what a wonderful thing it was to have such a family.
Sir James’s cheerfulness seemed to provoke Reginald, who declared that he had no pressing matters to attend to and that he would indeed like to be one of the party, and Sir James, with his natural sense of mischief, offered his arm to Frederica and left Reginald to attend Lady Vernon.
The four of them set out across the front lawns and down the avenue, walking in the direction of the village.
“I am very happy to see you looking so well, Freddie,” Sir James began. “Your ordeal in London cannot have been pleasant, but I was never persuaded that you ought to have been sent to school, and yet I do not like to see you back here at Churchill. I would much rather have had you remain in town, as your mother wished.”
“I am sure that Mama would wish you there as well.”
Sir James laughed. “I cannot recall a more chilly welcome than I have received just now! Is Mrs. Vernon generally so unequal to hospitality?”
“I have not had the opportunity to know her well. I think that she is very much a creature of routine, but so are we all in some manner or other.”
“And what sort of person is Mr. deCourcy? Is he the same sort of creature as his sister?”
“He is intelligent and amiable.”
“In other words, nothing like her. And yet there is nothing amiable in the stare that I feel directed at my back. He has heard that we are very near to being engaged and he does not like it. What shall we do? Are you still of the opinion that it is wrong to encourage discord? Will we turn back and undeceive him at once, or shall we have some fun at his expense?”
“I don’t know what you mean, cousin!”
“Do you not? And yet you are a young lady of such extraordinary discernment. It is clear to me that Mr. deCourcy admires you and regards me as a rival. What will the Vernons say? Mrs. Vernon continues to hope that her brother will marry Miss Hamilton, and Mr. Vernon—”
Frederica drew her arm back and replied sharply, “I do not care what my uncle hopes for! His hopes cannot be accomplished unless someone else’s are ruined!”
Sir James was startled at such an outburst from one whose temper was always so mild. He attempted something like an apology and she immediately begged his pardon and took her cousin’s arm once more. The two continued on, and though Sir James endeavored to divert her, Frederica remained subdued, replying to his remarks with no more than a monosyllable or a nod.
Reginald, who walked with Lady Vernon many paces behind the pair, could not hear their exchange, but he observed enough to see that Sir James had said something to upset Frederica. He began to tally—with greater attention than the subject had ever produced heretofore—the many ills that might arise when a young woman was compelled to subordinate her happiness to a duty to marry well. By the time they had returned to the house, he had enumerated many arguments in favor of preference and was resolved to address them to Lady Vernon before he left Churchill.
chapter thirty-nine
It is a universal ambition to persuade as many people as possible of one’s understanding, intelligence, and wit without having to cultivate any of them. In the case of Sir James Martin, however, it was quite the reverse: his education had been thorough and his understanding was sound, but an easy assurance and lively good humor had given rise to the impression of frivolity, and he did not trouble himself to contradict it.
His wit and complacency allowed him to keep up a steady stream of pleasantries at the dinner table. Lady Vernon was too angry with her cousin to speak to him, and Miss Vernon, who was afraid that any interest in her cousin’s conversation would be seen as a confirmation of their betrothal, was silent as well. Reginald spoke when he could not avoid it, and Mrs. Vernon, after pronouncing that the curried rabbit had turned out remarkably well, observed that the season for sport was quite at an end and that she was afraid there was little else to tempt Sir James to stay with them for very long.
Sir James smiled and replied, “My affection for this part of the world is fixed on something more prepossessing than sport. But I will not intrude upon your routine—none of your engagements need be altered on my account.”
Mrs. Vernon assured him that they did nothing and went nowhere. “But do not stand on ceremony, sir. You have acquaintances in this part of the country who will want a share of your company. Do not put us above them. Spend as much time as you like with them. We will not be offended.”
Sir James thanked her with an emphasis that provoked Lady Vernon to smile in spite of herself. “I will be happy to renew my acquaintance in this part of the world. But I am happier, of course, to see my cousins, and in such good looks, for which I must give you and Mr. Vernon credit. Your particular attentions to them seem to have offset the melancholy sensations that must attend any visit to the home that was lost to them in such a cruel fashion.”
“‘Cruel’?” cried Vernon. “Do you say that my sister and niece have been cruelly treated?”
Sir James was surprised at his vehemence and calmly replied, “Perhaps I should not have said ‘cruel.’ I should have said ‘unfortunate’—as the fortunes of those who survive such a loss are wont to decline.”
Vernon murmured something about accidents and how terrible it was when they resulted in a loss, how painful it was for them to be discussed at all.
Sir James apologized and changed the subject. “I honor your delicacy, Mrs. Vernon, for doing so little with Churchill Manor. There were, no doubt, many alterations you wished to make, and to leave it so unchanged must be a great comfort to my cousins.”
“And yet,” declared Reginald, “Miss Vernon remarked only this morning how very much changed she found it to be.”
“She would find it so,” Sir James replied, directing an affectionate smile toward his young cousin. “Freddie is naturally observant—nothing escapes her notice.”
“There is nothing to notice,” stammered Vernon. �
�Some changes in the household staff … the rooms are much the same … nothing whatsoever … !”
“Indeed,” said his wife. “One cannot do everything. It is troublesome to know what ought to be done at all.”
“I quite agree with you—it is troublesome, at least, to know what must be done at once and what can wait until one is more settled. And yet there have been some alterations that my young cousin must feel deeply. There had been a portrait of Sir Frederick in the gallery. It had been done when he was a very young man—not much older than Freddie, I believe. To remove a portrait might not seem a great change, but it is only natural that the absence of such a comforting fixture must impress my young cousin very deeply.”
“We were compelled to … it was necessary to make a place for my wife’s grandfather,” said Vernon uneasily.
“Undoubtedly. There is nothing like family feeling! That portrait now, of my cousins, was done when Freddie was only three years old,” Sir James continued, pointing to a likeness of mother and daughter that hung upon the wall opposite Vernon. “It gave Sir Frederick a great deal of pleasure to look upon it when he sat in the chair that you now occupy, but it cannot inspire the same feeling in you. If I may be so bold as to suggest it, the portrait of Sir Frederick would go handsomely in its place. But perhaps you have already chosen another place for your brother’s likeness.”
“Oh, no,” Mrs. Vernon chimed in. “It was put away in one of the attics.”
Sir James was astonished. He had always known that Vernon’s affection for Sir Frederick went no deeper than his enjoyment of the superior society of Churchill Manor and Portland Place, and the ease with which “my elder brother, Sir Frederick Vernon” got men of fortune to open their pocketbooks. Yet to remove his portrait from its rightful place among his forebears, a place moreover where it had hung for nearly thirty years, was more than indifference—there was something cruel about it.