Chapter 5
“You see?” Sir Penrith declared triumphantly as he waved a folded sheet under his friend's nose. “I have had a note from Miss Easterly-Cummings in which she apologizes for her ‘rash and ridiculous’ words to me. I am not held to blame for anything, and she regrets that she should have caused a scene, and can only excuse herself on the grounds of her shock and fright. And,” he added with a mischievous smile, “she has invited the lot of us to tea this afternoon."
“Has she now? I imagine that is very unusual,” Rushton commented sardonically.
“Well, it is. I cannot remember the last time I was invited there, and I dare say it is not much more recent an occurrence for my mother and Cassandra."
“It is her way of apologizing, no doubt. Just as bizarre as the costume she wears."
“Does that put you off? The way she dresses? Lord, Gareth, you'd have to be blind not to see that she's beautiful, even under those dowdy drapings."
“I had not missed her essential loveliness,” he retorted dryly. “All the more odd of her to dress so peculiarly. It would be a real treat to see her in London dressed that way."
“Perhaps she'll dress more conventionally for this occasion,” Penrith suggested hopefully.
And there was some lessening to the strangeness of her costume, he noted as he followed his mother and sister and friend into the green drawing room at Shalbrook. Selina had honored the tea party with her yellowish-green gown, to be sure, but she had attached a fall of lace at the high neck and discarded the walking shoes. The scarlet shawl was replaced by one of brown and she sported an uninspiring cap, but it bore no resemblance to her nun-like ones. Sir Penrith could not know that Henry was responsible for this change in his cousin's costume. The boy had adamantly refused to attend this social gathering unless Selina made some effort to observe it with dignity. “For how on earth am I to face Sir Penrith after the trimming you gave me yesterday? I shall have quite enough discomfort without blushing for your appearance, my dear cousin."
Lady Southwood curiously surveyed the room into which she had been shown with its fourteenth century wainscot and painted ceiling. It was not a chamber she was unfamiliar with, though it was many years since she had been in it. “Your mama used to entertain here, my dear,” she said, turning to smile at Selina. “It was done in green then, too, but I can see that you have recently refurbished it. And your taste is quite as exquisite as hers. Who would have thought the plank chest would fit perfectly under that ancient tapestry? And you have brought the set of globes from the gallery, have you not? Delightful, absolutely delightful."
“Thank you, Lady Southwood. I was not aware that my mother used the room, for we have come to use the East Room extensively these last years.” She turned to Cassandra, her eyes laughing. “I had no idea, from your demure appearance in church, what a dashing lady you had become, Cassandra. Are you to have a Season in London this year?"
“So Mama and Penrith promise me. And Maria is to be there, too."
“Yes, I have heard from her recently and she said they were going up to London. She sounds decidedly content with her life and family."
“Oh, yes, Franmore is the dearest man, and she has two adorable boys. Perhaps they will return with us for a while this summer so that you shall have an opportunity to see them."
“I hope so,” Selina assured her. As the ladies seated themselves, she moved to Sir Penrith and Mr. Rushton, offering her hand to the former. “Am I forgiven, Sir Penrith?"
“You were used to call me Pen, Selina. And you have no need to apologize. Where is the young scamp?"
“He should be along in a moment. Punctuality is not well observed at Shalbrook, I fear. Would you be so very kind as to overlook my scolding him in front of you? It embarrassed him terribly, of course, and had I had my wits about me, I would not have done it for the world."
“He's a large responsibility for you,” Penrith suggested.
“No, no, not at all. Henry is the only family I have and a delightful companion.” With a nod she acknowledged Mr. Rushton. “I wanted to thank you for your ... assistance yesterday, sir."
“You did so at the time, Miss Easterly-Cummings. I trust you took no harm from your spill.” When she did not offer him her hand, he forced her to do so by extending his own.
Selina quickly withdrew her hand from his firm clasp. “None whatsoever. Here is Henry now. I don't believe you've met him."
After the introductions had been made and everyone was seated, Selina rang for the tea tray and guided the conversation to various topics of interest to the different members of the group. Henry's embarrassment at seeing Sir Penrith again rapidly disappeared under that gentleman's cheerful acceptance of him as one of the men of the group. Penrith's assumption that Henry was knowledgeable about horses and other sporting matters was flattering, if somewhat bewildering, to the young Forrester. Sheltered as he was at Shalbrook, he knew little of boxing and prizefights, even less of cock-fighting or cricket. But he could hold his own on coursing, shooting, fishing and even horse-racing, as he managed to get hold of the Turf Remembrancer fairly regularly.
Mr. Rushton was not as oblivious to the gaps in the boy's knowledge as Penrith appeared to be, and when Miss Easterly-Cummings was engrossed in a discussion of village matters with Lady Southwood and Cassandra, he purposefully explored the matter. “I suppose there is no cricket team in the area?” he asked, directing his question at Henry rather than Penrith.
“Not that I know of,” the boy replied, glancing questioningly at Sir Penrith.
“No, I haven't played since I came down from Oxford. Never was much good at it,” Penrith confessed.
“I don't believe I've seen you with the Quorn, Mr. Forrester. Have you no interest in hunting?” Rushton probed.
Henry flushed. “I should like to hunt of all things. It's just ... well, there have been my studies..."
Mr. Rushton's eyes narrowed. “Perhaps your cousin has some objection to hunting?"
“Well, I ... we...” Henry could not find a way to explain, and he fell silent under Rushton's intent gaze.
Penrith cast a disparaging glance at his friend and intervened. “I imagine Selina keeps no hunters at Shalbrook these days. No matter. I can mount you, Forrester. Why not join us tomorrow? Ride over to Oak Park and leave your hack there. We leave about nine."
“That's awfully good of you, sir. I mean, you have no idea whether I could manage one of your hunters, or anything. I don't know."
“Nonsense! Have the greatest confidence in you. Just be there by nine, and we'll have a great day's sport,” Penrith assured him bluffly, not wanting the boy to think his cousin's scold of the previous day had given him any lack of faith in the lad's ability.
“I will then, thank you,” Henry accepted with a worried glance at his cousin. He could tell by the slight tightening of her lips that she had overheard the conversation, but she made no sign to him, composedly continuing her discourse with the ladies. It was not so much out of rebellion that he accepted, but out of his strong desire to do so, and under the pressure of the two gentlemen expecting that he would. After all, he had just said that he wanted to hunt of all things, and what would they think if he refused when they had made it possible for him to do so? With relief he found the conversation turned to other matters, and the subject did not arise again until the Oak Park party was about to depart.
In taking leave of his hostess, Penrith remarked cheerfully, “I have offered to mount your cousin on one of my hunters tomorrow, Selina. Not to worry, you know. I shall keep an eye on him."
Biting back the retort she wished to make, Selina forced herself to say, “That is kind of you, Pen. He's never hunted before, but I doubt he will disgrace you."
“No, he's a spirited lad. I shall put him on Trafalgar—great strength there, but well behaved, don't you know?"
“Just see he doesn't override the hounds,” she replied with a nervous laugh.
“Never fear. We'll coach him in hunt
ing etiquette before ever we reach Ashby Pastures. Should be able to draw thereabouts! Do you never have an itch to join the field these days, Selina?"
“My hunting days are past, which is all to the good, as I do not believe Mr. Assheton Smith is fond of ladies joining the hunt."
“He tolerates them if they ride well and overlook his wayward tongue,” Penrith laughed. “But few dare to join these days, all the same."
“Who can blame them?” Selina murmured as Mr. Rushton came to join them. She offered her hand, so that he could not fault her this time, but she found his touch disturbing, just as she did the faintly mocking light in his eyes, as though he were judging her, and not to her advantage.
“Who indeed?” Rushton rejoined to her rhetorical question. “Mr. Assheton Smith will never win any awards for his amiable disposition, but he is a worthy follower of Meynell's tradition in his mastery of a pack of fox-hounds and the sport he shows."
“My father rode with Mr. Meynell for many years. I hope the hunt will be enjoyable tomorrow.” Selina ignored the mocking light in his eyes, and was relieved when her visitors had departed, though it left her to confront Henry with his unique decision.
When they had returned to the drawing room, Selina did not speak and Henry wandered about the room, twirling the globes and poking at the fire. A sideways glance assured him that his cousin was not watching him; she had picked up a copy of the Ladies’ Monthly Museum and was perusing it with obvious interest.
“You know I have agreed to go with Sir Penrith on the hunt tomorrow,” he blurted at last. “Are you not going to beg me to reconsider?"
“Did you want me to?” she asked pleasantly, looking up from the magazine. “I felt sure you were all eagerness to go."
“Well, I am, Selina. By God, it's some of the best hunting country in the land, and I've never been.” He threw himself down on the sofa beside her. “Are you angry with me?"
“No.” She forced herself to smile at him. “I have been protecting you like a mother hen, haven't I? Do forgive me. I rode with the Quorn several times when I was only a year or so older than you. When my father died I could not bear to part with his hunting coat, though I gave away his other clothing. Shall we see if it can be altered for you?"
“You would do that? Then you really are not angry with me?"
“How could I be? It is the most natural thing in the world to want to hunt when you've been raised on a horse and live in the Quorn country. Sir Penrith is the very one to teach you how to go on. It was kind of him to offer to mount such a stripling. Do not do anything to disgrace him,” she commanded with mock severity.
“I shan't, you may be sure. I am all too conscious of his condescension. Could we look out the coat right now?” he asked eagerly.
“If we want it to be ready for the morning, we shall have to."
Refusing to give in to nervousness, Selina occupied herself with tasks about the house for the entire morning after Henry left. When her eyes tended to stray to the clock on the mantelpiece after luncheon, she assured herself that the pack had had a difficult time picking up a scent. As the hours crawled past, though, and the light began to fade from the sky, she could no longer keep still. It was possible that Henry had been invited to dine at Oak Park and had neglected to send her a message. Possible, but unlikely. Lady Southwood would not forget. Selina sent a message to the kitchen to put dinner back an hour. If Henry had not arrived by then, she would eat, if she could, but she would send a messenger to Oak Park to enquire, no matter how distressing it might be to her cousin to be checked on in such a way. She could not pay attention to her knitting for more than a few minutes at a time but jumped up frequently to gaze anxiously out the window.
It lacked but ten minutes to six when she heard the sounds of arrival in the drive. Tossing her handiwork carelessly on the spindle-legged table, she hastened from the room and out into the chilly hall, where no amount of fuel in the mammoth grate managed to alleviate the cold. McDonough, well aware of her anxiety (since he shared it), was already in the process of drawing back the heavy oak door. Up the stairs and across the terraces came Henry and Mr. Rushton, the former white-faced but grinning from ear to ear, the latter supporting his companion while they sang a sporting song incredibly off-key. Henry's arm was in a sling.
The boy gazed up and saw his cousin in the well-lit hall. “Ho, Selina! Sorry to be so late. Took a while for the doctor to come.” He slurred his words as he spoke. “Famous day's hunting! They gave me the brush!” He dug with his good hand in the pocket of the red hunting jacket and withdrew his trophy, waving it about delightedly.
Exercising the utmost control over her tongue, Selina replied, “You must have done very well. Congratulations. What has happened to your arm?"
“Broke it. A clean break, the doctor said. Should heal in a trice.” By now he stood before her, a trifle sheepish but defiantly proud as well. “Sir Penrith says I'm a bruising rider."
“I hope you did not injure his horse when you had your accident."
“Good God, no. Fact is, Selina, Sir Penrith said it was not in the least my fault. Practically everyone had trouble going in and out clever but Trafalgar was superb. Thing was, they must have been doing some draining on the other side, just where we landed, for there was a ling-filled trench under the snow. Trafalgar just sank right in and toppled over, but I got clear of him, all but my arm."
Mr. Rushton took up the narrative at this point. “Your cousin maintained the greatest presence of mind, Miss Easterly-Cummings. He held onto the reins and had the horse on his feet in no time. Then he mounted and rode off as though nothing had happened."
“You completed the run with a broken arm?” Selina asked faintly.
“Hardly hurt at all, my dear, and I had no need of my whip hand. Had no call to urge Trafalgar on. He's mad for the hunt. Sir Penrith says I may ride him again if I like.” His speech had become more fuzzy as he stood talking and now he passed a hand over his face. “Had a bit of brandy before the doctor set my arm. I think I shall go lie down for a spell. If you will excuse me, Selina? Servant, Rushton.” With some difficulty, he executed an awkward bow and wandered toward the stone stairs.
Selina answered McDonough's questioning look with a nod, and the butler moved forward to assist Henry in his dazed climb up the stairs. She did not say a word until they were out of sight, then she turned to Rushton. “I am in your debt for seeing him home, sir. Will you join me for dinner? Obviously Henry is in no condition to do so, and I don't doubt you have missed yours at Oak Park."
“It would be my pleasure, Miss Easterly-Cummings, but please do not speak of any obligation. Sir Penrith and I are distressed that your cousin should have met with an accident his first time out, but I must say it does not seem to have daunted the lad. He is all eagerness to have another go."
Rushton left unasked the question as to whether Henry's cousin would allow him to repeat his day's hunting, but Selina was uncomfortably aware of his curiosity. “I do hope he will wait until the arm is healed,” she replied as casually as she could while she led him to the dining hall, where she absently instructed that dinner might now be served. Rushton seated her at the head of the long table and took the only other place set, immediately to her right.
“Henry and I see no reason for formality at meals, and I would not like to have to shout all the way to the other end of the table. Our other meals we take in the breakfast parlor, which is more comfortable, but it would seem somehow untraditional to dine there, or to have a shorter table brought in, for that matter. This one was fashioned from trees on the estate some two hundred years ago."
“Your family has lived here that long?” he asked, surprised.
“Oh, yes,” she answered negligently as a footman ladled soup into her bowl. ‘The Easterly family goes back to the original building of the house. Somewhere along the line there was only a female heir, and her husband adopted her name as well as his own. In 1473, I believe, though I would have to check in the muniment
room. I have never been as concerned with my ancestry as I might, I fear."
“And now there is only a female heir again."
“Yes,” she sighed. “Father was very sad about that. I mean, even if I had married, one could hardly expect a man to take on Easterly-Cummings-Something-or-Other. I suppose Henry or his children will inherit Shalbrook one day, but it is hardly likely that they will live here. He has an estate of his own in Derbyshire, near Chesterfield, which, though smaller, is a much more comfortable place. I cannot see anyone choosing to live at Shalbrook when they don't have to endure damp walls, cold corridors and smoking chimneys, can you?"
“It's picturesque. Perhaps the family will produce a romantic,” he suggested with a smile.
He had a charming smile, and Selina had rarely seen it before. For a moment she forgot what they had been discussing. “Well, we have no ghosts to offer, and a very uneventful history, but you may be right.” He was studying with fascination the dish placed before him and Selina could not repress a chuckle. “Those are balons of legs of fowls. We have a very inventive cook, Mr. Rushton. You need not try anything that does not appeal to you. There will be a goose-pie larded with bacon and a leg of veal marinaded with endive sauce. Sometimes I feed the most unusual dishes to the dog, just so they won't go back untasted, you understand. But it's difficult to keep a good cook for just the two of us, and I feel it is only fair to allow him to experiment now and again to keep his hand in."
Selina laughed. “I have found it expedient to have the dog admitted only toward the end of the meal. Sometimes there is more than one dish which she would enjoy.” The corners of his mouth twitched and they shared an understanding glance. The task of entertaining him with light conversation did not seem burdensome afterwards, and when she would have excused herself after the sweet wines, he asked her permission to withdraw with her.
A Curious Courting Page 5