The Unknown Ajax

by Джорджетт Хейер

  “No, but perhaps I should have said I mean to try to teach you.”

  “Brute!” Richmond said, laughing. He thought he saw how to turn this cut to good account, and said ingenuously: “Vincent is always out of reason cross before breakfast, Cousin Hugo! Snaps all our noses off!”

  “Well, if you ask me,” said Claud, as soon as the door was shut again, “he’s got a devilish nasty tongue in his head any hour of the day! Takes after the old gentleman.” He looked at his large cousin, and shook his head. “You may think it’s a fine thing to be the heir: got a strong notion m’father liked it pretty well, too. All I can say is, I’m dashed glad I’m not. Y’know, coz, if you’ve finished your tea, I’d as lief you went off to see what m’grandfather wants. There’s no saying but what he may blame me for it if you keep him waiting.”

  Thus adjured, Hugh went in search of Lord Darracott, and found him (after peeping into three empty saloons) seated at his desk in the library. There was a pen in his hand, but the ink had dried on it, and he was staring absently out of the bay window. He turned his head when he heard the door open, and said: “Oh, so here you are! Shut the door, and come over here! You can take that chair, if it will bear you!”

  It cracked, but gave no sign of immediate collapse under Hugo’s weight, so he disposed himself comfortably in it, crossed one booted leg over the other, and awaited his grandfather’s pleasure with every outward semblance of placidity.

  For several moments his lordship said nothing; but sat looking at him morosely. “You don’t favour your father!” he said at last.

  “No,” agreed the Major.

  “Well, I daresay you’re none the worse for that! You are his son: there’s no doubt about it!” He put down his pen, and pushed aside the papers on his desk, something in the gesture seeming to indicate that with them he was pushing aside his memories. “Got to make the best of it!” he said. “When I’m booked, you’ll step into my shoes. I don’t mean to wrap the matter up in clean linen, and I’ll tell you to your head that that’s not what I wanted, or ever dreamed would come to pass!”

  “No,” said the Major again, sympathetically. “It’s been a facer to the both of us.”

  Lord Darracott stared at him. “A facer for me, but a honey-fall for you, young man!”

  The Major preserved a stolid silence.

  “And don’t tell me you’d as lief not step into your uncle’s shoes!” said Lord Darracott. “You’ll find me a hard man to bridge, so cut no wheedles for my edification!” He paused, but the Major still had nothing to say. His lordship gave a short laugh. “If you thought you’d turn me up sweet by writing that flim-flam to Lissett you mistook your man! I detest maw-worms, and that’s what you sounded like to me! I do you the justice to say you haven’t the look of a maw-worm, so maybe it was your notion of civility. Let me have no more of it!” He waited again for any answer the Major might like to make, but, getting none, snapped: “Well, have you a tongue in your head?”

  “I have,” responded Hugo, “but I was never one to give my head for washing.”

  “You’re not such a fool as you look,” commented his lordship. “Whether you’ve enough sense to learn what every other Darracott has known from the cradle we shall see. That’s why I sent for you.”

  “It’s why I came, think on,” said Hugo reflectively. “My father being killed almost before I was out of long coats, there was no one to tell me anything about my family, and barring I’d a lord for grandfather I didn’t know anything.”

  “You’re blaming me, are you? Very well! If I had known that there would ever have been the smallest need for you to know anything about me, or mine, I should have sent for you when your father died, and had you reared under my eye.”

  “Happen my mother would have had something to say to that,” remarked Hugo.

  “There’s nothing to be gained by discussing the matter now. When your father married against my wish he cut himself off from his family. I don’t scruple to tell you, for you must be well aware of it, that in marrying a weaver’s daughter—however virtuous she may have been!—he did what he knew must ruin him with me!”

  “Ay, they were pluck to the backbone, the pair of ’em,” nodded Hugo. “What with you on the one hand, and Granddad on t’other, they must have had good bottom, seemingly.” He smiled affably upon his lordship. “I never heard that they regretted it, though Granddad always held to it that no good would come of the match. Like to like and Nan to Nicholas was his motto.”

  “Are you telling me, sir, that the fellow objected to his daughter’s marrying my son?” demanded Lord Darracott.

  “Oh! he wasn’t at all suited with it!” replied Hugo. “Let alone my father was Quality-make, he was too much of a care-for-nobody for Granddad: caper-witted, he called him. Shutful with his brass, too, which used to put Granddad, by what I’m told, into a rare passion. But Granddad’s bark was worse than his bite, and he came round to the marriage in the end. It’s a pity you never met him: you’d have agreed together better nor you think.”

  Lord Darracott, almost stunned, sought in vain for words with which to dispel this illusion. Before he could find them, Hugo had added thoughtfully: “You put me in mind of him now-and-now, particularly when you start ringing a peal over someone. However, you didn’t send for me to talk about Granddad, so likely I’m wasting your time, sir.”

  “I wish to hear nothing about your granddad, as you call him, or your mother, or the life you led when you were a boy!” declared his lordship, his face still alarmingly suffused with colour. “Understand me, that period is never to be mentioned! I recommend you to put it out of your mind! It shouldn’t be difficult; you’ve been a serving officer for the past ten years, and must have other things to talk of. I collect that there are no longer any ties binding you to Yorkshire, and that circumstance I cannot but regard as fortunate. I’ll be plain with you: since I can’t keep you from succeeding me I mean to see you licked into shape before I stick my spoon in the wall.”

  “Nay, we can’t tell but what I’ll break my neck over a rasper, or go off in the smallpox,” interposed Hugo, in a heartening tone.

  “Where the devil did you learn to hunt?” exclaimed his lordship.

  “In Portugal.”

  “Oh!” His lordship sat for a minute or two digesting this. “Well, that’s more than I hoped for!” he said presently. “You’ll be able to hunt from here: it’s humbug country, but you’ll see plenty of sport. I used to hunt in the shires, but I’m getting too old for it now. Sold my lodge in Leicestershire some years ago. Just as well I did! I should have had that nick-or-nothing boy of mine coming to grief over those fences, sure as a gun!”

  “I’ve a fancy to hunt in the shires myself,” confessed Hugo. “In fact—”

  “Oh, you have, have you? Then you’d best rid yourself of it!” interrupted his lordship sardonically. “Behave yourself, and I’ll make you a respectable allowance, but it won’t run to the Quorn or the Pytchley, so don’t think it!”

  “Nay, I wasn’t thinking it!” replied Hugo, looking a little startled. “Nor of your making me an allowance neither, sir. I’m much obliged to you, but I don’t want that: I’ve plenty of brass.”

  Lord Darracott was amused. “Ay, your pockets are well-lined because you’ve just had the prize-money for the Peninsula and Waterloo paid to you. I know all about that, and no doubt it seems a fortune to you. You’ll change your ideas a little when you’ve learnt the ways of my world.”

  “My grandfather left me some brass too,” said Hugo diffidently.

  “What you choose to do with your grandfather’s savings is no concern of mine: spend them as you wish! For your support, you’ll look to me—and you’ll be glad enough to do so before you’re much older! You are going to live in a different style to any you’ve been accustomed to, and you wouldn’t find yourself able to strike a balance on a weaver’s savings, however thrifty he may have been. Let me hear no more on that subject!”

  “No,” said H
ugo meekly.

  “Well, that brings me to what I have to say to you,” said his lordship. “You’re my heir, and you’ve all to learn, and I choose that you shall learn it under my roof. For the present you’ll remain here—at all events until you’ve lost that damned north-country accent! Later I’ll let your uncle introduce you into Society, but the time for that’s not yet. This is your home, and here you’ll stay. Which reminds me that you must sell out, if you haven’t already done so.”

  “I have,” said Hugo.

  The craggy brows drew together. “Taking a lot for granted, weren’t you?”

  “Well,” Hugo drawled, “there was a lot I could take for granted, sir.”

  “What if I hadn’t chosen to acknowledge you?”

  “Nay, I hadn’t thought of that,” confessed Hugo.

  “Don’t be too pot-sure!” said his lordship, by no means pleased. “I could still send you packing! And make no mistake about it: if I find you intolerable I’ll do it!”

  A flicker of relief shone for an instant in the Major’s eyes, but he said nothing.

  “However, you’re better than I expected,” said his lordship, mollified by this docility. “I daresay something can be made of you. Watch your cousins, and take your tone from them! I don’t mean Claud—though no one would ever mistake him for other than a gentleman, mooncalf though he is!—but the other three. Vincent’s an idle, extravagant dog, but his ton is excellent—what they call nowadays top-of-the-trees! You may take him for your model—and I’ll see to it you don’t copy his extravagance! No use looking to him to set you right when you make mistakes, however: he won’t do it, because he’s as sulky as a bear over the whole business. I could force him to take you in hand, but I shan’t. I don’t want the pair of you coming to cuffs. That’s why I’ve told Claud to give you a new touch. Between ’em, he and Anthea can teach you pretty well all you need to know. She was born and bred here, knows all the ways of the place, all our history, every inch of my land! Not married, are you?”

  “Married!” ejaculated Hugo, taken-aback. “Lord, no, sir!”

  “No, I didn’t think you could be,” said his lordship. “I recommend you get on terms with your cousin Anthea. She doesn’t want for sense, and she’s a spirited, lively girl, and would make you an excellent wife, if she took a fancy to you. I shall say no more on that head at present, however. Time enough to be looking to the future when you’re better acquainted. What you can do at the moment is to go over the house with her: get her to tell you about the family! Ring the bell!”

  The Major rose, and obeyed this peremptory behest. He also mopped his brow.

  “I’m going to send for her,” said his lordship. “She can take you up to the picture-gallery for a start.”

  The Major, showing alarm for the first time, tried to protest, but was cut short. “Ay, I know that throws you into a stew! You haven’t been the way of doing the pretty, and you’re as shy as be-damned: you needn’t tell me! You’ll have to get the better of that, and you may as well begin at once. Chollacombe, desire Miss Darracott to come to me here immediately!”

  The Major, attempting no further remonstrance, ran a finger inside a neckcloth grown suddenly too tight, and awaited in considerable trepidation the arrival of his cousin Anthea.

  Chapter 6

  It was some little time before Anthea obeyed the summons to the library, but Lord Darracott, contrary to the Major’s expectation, showed no sign of putting himself in a passion. He occupied himself with giving his grandson a few hints on the best ways of fixing his interest with females in general and his cousin in particular; and when Anthea did at last enter the room, greeted her quite genially, saying: “Ah, here you are, my dear! Where the devil have you been hiding yourself?”

  She put up her brows. “I have merely been with my mother, sir. We are rather busy this morning.”

  “Well, never mind that!” said his lordship. “I want you to show your cousin round the house. Tell him its history! He don’t know anything about the family, and that won’t do. You can take him up to the picture-gallery, and let him see a few of his ancestors.”

  “I am persuaded, sir, that that is a task Chollacombe is longing to perform. He would be delighted to instruct my cousin.”

  “Don’t argue with me, girl, but do as I bid you!” snapped his lordship.

  “Nay, if my cousin’s throng—”

  “And don’t you think you can argue with me either!’’ said his lordship. “You’ll do as you’re told, the pair of you!”

  The Major hesitated, but Anthea said coolly: “Very well, Grandpapa. Will you come with me, if you please, Cousin Hugo?”

  The Major, with something of the air of one nerving himself to lead a forlorn hope, bowed, and accompanied her out of the room. But once beyond Lord Darracott’s sight and hearing he said apologetically: “There’s no sense in fratching with the old gentleman, but if you’re throng this morning I can look after myself well enough, cousin.”

  “When you have lived in this house for a few days you will have discovered that it is wisest to obey Grandpapa,” she returned, leading the way towards the staircase. “Certainly in small matters. Unless, of course, you have a fancy for the sort of brangling he delights in?”

  “Nay, I’m a peaceable man.”

  “So I have observed,” she said. “I don’t know how you contrived to keep your temper at the breakfast-table. I could have wished that you hadn’t.”

  “Well, it wouldn’t be proper for me to start a fight with my grandfather.”

  “It would be very proper for you to start one with Vincent, however!”

  He smiled, but shook his head. “Hard words break no bones. Seemingly, I’ve put Vincent’s nose out of joint, so it’s natural he should be nattered. Happen he’ll come about.”

  She did not speak again until they had reached the upper hall. She paused then, at the head of the stairs, and asked abruptly: “Has Grandpapa told you that he means to keep you here?”

  “Ay, but chance it happens that he can’t abide me he’ll send me packing,” he replied cheerfully.

  “Do you—are you going to submit to his tyranny?”

  “Well, there you have me,” he said, rubbing his nose with a large forefinger, and slightly wrinkling his brow. “It won’t do for me to be at outs with him, so it’s likely I’ll have to submit to him.”

  She glanced up at him rather searchingly. “I see!”

  “While I’m under his roof,” added Hugo. “The odds are that won’t be for long.”

  She walked across the hall, and into a large saloon, whose chairs and pendant chandelier were all muffled in Holland covers. “The State apartments,” she announced. “So-called because Queen Elizabeth once occupied them for a sennight. Tradition has it that she contrived, hunting inforse and in the chase, to denude the park of deer. I’ve forgotten what it cost our noble ancestor to entertain her: some fabulous sum, and all to no avail, for she quarrelled violently with his lady, and is said to have left Darracott Place in a dudgeon. That, by the way, is a portrait of our noble ancestor,” she added, nodding to the picture over the fireplace. “Very Friday-faced, not to say hangdog, but that might have been because of the Queen’s visit.”

  “I should say myself that the poor fellow suffered from a colicky disorder,” replied Hugo. “He has the look of it. Sallow as a Nabob!”

  She laughed, and led him on into an antechamber. “Very likely! We are now approaching the Queen’s Bedchamber. You will notice her cipher over the bedstead. The hangings are all original, but pray don’t touch them! The silk is quite rotten.”

  The Major stood looking round at faded and tarnished magnificence. “Eh, but it’s a shame!” he said. “Why has it all been let go to ruin? It queers me that a man as proud as his lordship shouldn’t keep his house in better order!”

  “Well, it won’t queer you when you are rather better acquainted with him,” she replied. “His pride is of a peculiar order, and is not in the least diminished
by debts or encumbered estates. Did you suppose yourself to be inheriting fortune as well as title? You will be sadly disappointed!”

  “I can see that. But that colt your brother has wasn’t bought for a song, and here’s the old gentleman wishing to make me an allowance!”

  She stared at him. “He must do that, of course. As for Richmond’s colt, there’s always money to pay for what he has set his heart on. Vincent is another who can in general get what he wants from Grandpapa. Next to Richmond, he is Grandpapa’s favourite. Have you looked your fill at our past grandeur? We have now only to go through the room allotted to the maids-of-honour—quite unremarkable, as you perceive—and we have reached the picture-gallery. There is a stairway at the far end which was originally the principal one. The present Grand Stairway is of later date.”

  “If ever I saw such a rabbit-warren!” he remarked.

  “Exactly so, but I advise you not to say that within Grandpapa’s hearing.” She walked over to the first of six large window-embrasures, and stood looking out through the latticed panes, with her back turned to the Major.

  “Before I show you our forebears, cousin, there is something I wish to say. No, not that: something I feel myself obliged to say! You may think it odd of me—even improper!—but I have a notion you are not quite as stupid as you would like us to believe. I daresay you may understand why it is that I find myself in the very awkward position of being forced to put myself, and you too, to the blush. I know Grandpapa well enough to be tolerably certain that he has ordered you to make me an offer.” She turned her head as she spoke, her colour a little heightened, but her eyes meeting the Major’s squarely. “If he had not already done so, he will. But I think he has. Am I right?”

  “He didn’t precisely do that,” replied Hugo cautiously.

  “He will. I hope you will summon up the courage to refuse to obey that particular command. Pray believe that nothing would induce me to obey it! If that seems to you uncivil, I beg your pardon, but—”