Frederica
Page 11
“I do not, however, engage to find a husband for her,” she warned him. “With no fortune, and no extraordinary degree of beauty, she cannot expect to make more than a respectable marriage, you know. If she hopes to find a husband by moving in the first circles, she is flying too high.”
“Oh, I shan’t ask that of you!” responded Alverstoke. “You will have enough to do finding a husband for Jane, I daresay.”
Only the reflection that the bills for Jane’s finery had already reached considerable proportions made it possible for Lady Buxted to keep her tongue between her teeth. But however uncertain might be her temper, her passion for funding her money was unwavering. She certainly cast her brother an angry glance, but said nothing, merely walking away from him to seat herself on the sofa, where she invited Frederica to join her.
The visit lasted for only half-an-hour; and although Lady Buxted asked Frederica a great many questions she maintained her formal manner, offered no refreshment, and made no effort to detain her when she rose to take her leave. Nor did she invite her to bring Charis to Grosvenor Place; but she did say that she must try to find time to call on Miss Winsham one day. Frederica, who answered her questions with cool reserve, detecting in them more curiosity than kindness, said, with a smile on her lips and a dangerous sparkle in her eyes, that this intelligence would cast her aunt into transports of delight; whereupon Alverstoke chuckled, and murmured: “Served with your own sauce, Louisa!”
He then bowed with exaggerated civility, and followed Frederica out of the room, leaving his sister and his nieces to marvel at his interest in a commonplace female (for girl no one could call her!) who had too much self-consequence, and was plainly above herself.
“I shouldn’t have said that,” Frederica confessed, when Alverstoke took his place beside her in the carriage.
“Oh, why not? You took the wind out of her eye very prettily!”
“It wasn’t pretty of me to have done it, because she is going to introduce Charis to society — and I’m persuaded she doesn’t wish to do so!” Frederica turned her head to direct one of her disconcerting looks at him. “Did you — did you compel her, sir?”
“How should I be able to do that?” he countered.
“I don’t know, but I fancy you could. And I don’t think it was out of good-nature, or a wish to please you, because — ”
“You are mistaken,” he interrupted, a sardonic curl to his mouth. “She has a very earnest desire to please me.”
She continued to look searchingly at him, and said, after a moment or two: “Well, I don’t like it! And she won’t like it when she sees Charis! No mother would, who had such a plain-faced daughter to present as Jane!”
“Are you going to cry off, then?”
She thought this over, saying presently, in a resolute tone: “No; if it were for myself, I would, but I’m determined Charis shall have her chance. I beg your pardon for not speaking more respectfully about your sister, but the prying questions she asked me put me all on end! I won’t say any more.”
“Don’t refrain on my account! There’s no love lost between us.”
“None?” she asked, wide-eyed.
“Not a particle! Tell me, fair cousin: is the waltz danced in the wilds of Herefordshire?”
“In some houses it is, but not very much, and there are never any quadrilles. So I have hired a dancing-master to come to teach us the steps — that we shan’t disgrace you by appearing as country cousins.”
“That does relieve my mind!”
“It might well — except that I fancy you don’t care a straw how we may appear.”
“On the contrary! Think how much my credit would suffer!”
She laughed, but shook her head. “You don’t care for that either. Or — or for anything, perhaps.”
He was momentarily taken aback by this, but he replied without perceptible hesitation: “Not profoundly.”
She frowned, turning it over in her mind. “Well, I can understand that that must be very comfortable, for if you don’t care for anybody or anything you can’t be cast into dejection, or become sick with apprehension, or even get into high fidgets. On the other hand, I shouldn’t think you could ever be aux anges either. It wouldn’t do for me: it would be too flat!” She turned her head to survey him again, and suddenly smiled. “I daresay that is why you are so bored!”
“I am frequently bored,” he acknowledged. “Nevertheless, I — er — contrive to keep myself tolerably well amused!”
“Oh, yes, but that’s not — ” She stopped, and her colour rose. “I beg your pardon! I wish I could learn to keep my tongue!”
He ignored this, saying, with a wry smile: “You do hold me in contempt, don’t you, Frederica?”
“No, no!” she said quickly. “You choose to call me a green girl, but I have cut my eye-teeth, you know, and I’m not wholly paper-skulled! How could you help but become bored when you have been able to command every — every agreeable luxury all your life? I expect, too,” she added wisely, “that you were very much indulged, being your parents’ only son.”
Remembering the cold formality of his father, and, with more difficulty, the brief glimpses which had been granted to him of his fashionable mother, who had died while he was still at school, the sardonic curl to his mouth became more pronounced; but all he said was: “Very true! I came into the world hosed and shod, and was so precious to my parents that a special establishment was created for me. Until I went to Harrow, I enjoyed the undivided attention of nurses, valets, grooms, tutors, and — oh, all that money could provide!”
“Oh, poor little boy!” she exclaimed involuntarily.
“By no means! I don’t recall that I ever expressed a wish that wasn’t instantly gratified.”
She checked herself on the brink of impetuous speech, and said, after a tiny pause, and in a rallying tone: “Well! I am now most truly obliged to you, cousin! You have taught me what poor Mr Ansdell never could!”
“Have I indeed? What’s that?”
“Not to hanker after riches, of course! I was used to think, you know, that to be born to rank, fortune, and consequence must be so very pleasant; but I see now that it’s nothing but a dead bore!” The carriage was drawing up; she held out her hand, a sparkle of mischief in her eyes. “Good-bye! Thank you for my lesson, and for introducing me to your sister! I had meant to have thanked you for coming to my rescue, but I shan’t do so, because I am now persuaded that it did you a great deal of good to be obliged to exert yourself.”
He took her hand, but only to place it firmly in her lap again. “Too previous, cousin! Spoilt though I am, I mean to exert myself sufficiently to escort you to your door.”
“You have such distinguished manners, my lord!” she murmured demurely.
“I have, haven’t I?” he retorted. “Another lesson for you — you brass-faced little gypsy!”
She burst out laughing; but when she gave him her hand again, on the doorstep, she said, looking up into his face: “Did I offend you? No, I don’t think so. I am grateful to you for having come so splendidly to my rescue, and very sorry to have embroiled you in such a troublesome affair.”
“Since it is well-known that my distinguished manners crumble at a touch, I shall make no apology for telling you that you are a baggage, Frederica!”
Her laughter bubbled up again; he smiled slightly; flicked her cheek with one careless finger; and trod down the steps to his carriage, under the disapproving stare of Buddle, who was holding open the door for his young mistress, and took it upon himself to reprove her for not keeping a proper distance. It was of no use to point out to him that the Marquis was almost old enough to have been her father; and worse than useless to try and snub him; devoted retainers who (as they never hesitate to remind one) had known one from the cradle, were impossible to snub.
“Now, that’s quite enough, Miss Frederica!” said Buddle severely. “I’m only telling you for your own good, and I should be failing in my duty if I didn’t. Over and
over again I’ve told you that you can’t carry on in London like you do at home. A nice thing it would be if people was to take you for a rackety gadabout!”
The Marquis, meanwhile, was being driven back to Berkeley Square. It was his intention to try out his latest acquisition, a team of high-bred grays, warranted by their late owner to be sweet-goers, and enviously described by the gentleman who had been outbidden by his lordship as four very tidy ones indeed. This agreeable scheme had been disturbed by the arrival of Frederica, but the day was not too far advanced for a drive to Richmond, or to Wimbledon. Alighting from his carriage in Berkeley Square, he gave the order for his perch-phaeton to be brought round immediately, and entered the house, to be greeted by joyful yelps and a storm of mingled barks and whines. Lufra, tethered to the lowest banister, recognized the one surviving link with his mistress, and hailed him as his deliverer.
VIII
Since the Marquis was quite unable to make his voice heard above Lufra’s, he was obliged to reassure and to quell the faithful hound before demanding an explanation from his butler. While Lufra, released from bondage, fawned at his feet, whimpering with mingled relief and entreaty, and dulling the glossy surface of his Hessians in a way that would have smitten his lordship’s valet to the soul, he said, in a voice that was none the less terrible for its languor: “I thought I gave orders that this dog was to be taken to Upper Wimpole Street?”
His cold gaze rested on Wicken’s face, but James, the first footman, and Walter, his subordinate, quaked in their buckled shoes. Wicken, who was made of sterner stuff, replied with majestic calm: “Yes, my lord. Every effort has been made to do so. Unfortunately, the Animal refused to leave the premises, either with Walter, or with James. I regret to inform your lordship that when pressure was brought to bear he turned quite Nasty — even with Me! I thought it best to tie him up to the banister, awaiting your lordship’s return. Otherwise,” he said, outdoing the Marquis in frigidity, “he would have scratched the library-door down.”
“What a revolting creature you are!” said Alverstoke, addressing himself, much to the relief of his footmen, to Lufra. “No, no, down, damn you, down! Where is Mr Trevor?” As he spoke, his eyes alighted on his secretary, who had that instant emerged from his office at the back of the house, and was surveying the scene with something perilously like a grin on his countenance. “Oh, you’re there, are you? Then, for God’s sake, do something about this abominable mongrel!”
“Mongrel, sir?” responded Mr Trevor, in astonished accents. “I thought he was a — ”
“Don’t try me too far, Charles! You thought nothing of the sort! Why haven’t you seen to it that he was restored to his owner?”
“Well, I did my best, sir,” said Charles. “But he wouldn’t go with me either.”
“Now tell me that he tried to savage you, and you will have gone your length!” said Alverstoke, repulsing Lufra’s adoring advances.
“Oh, no, he didn’t do that! He merely squatted on his haunches!” said Charles cheerfully. “By the time I had dragged him as far as Davies Street I judged it to be time to return, no fewer than three kindly females having exclaimed at my brutality to a dumb creature. Besides, I was exhausted!”
“Why the devil didn’t you bundle him into a hack?”
“We did make the attempt — all four of us — but he’s not the sort of dog you can bundle, sir — unmuzzled! That was when Walter got bitten. I daresay we might have contrived to get him into the hack, but we none of us fancied a drive in his company. The thing was that his mistress left him here, and here he was determined to remain until she reclaimed him.” Meeting Alverstoke’s eyes with the utmost blandness, he added: “I believe these Baluchistan hounds are famous for their fidelity, sir.”
“Oh, do you indeed?” said his lordship wrathfully.
“So I have always understood,” said Charles. He watched Lufra paw the Marquis imperatively, and a happy thought occurred to him. “Perhaps he would consent to go with you, sir?” he suggested.
“A little more, and you will find yourself dismissed with ignominy, Charles! If you imagine that I am going to lead this misbegotten cur through the streets of London you must be out of your mind!” He turned towards his footmen, so swiftly that they had no time to wipe the appreciative grins from their faces. Having reduced both to a state of rigid imbecility by the mere power of his eye, he said: “One of you — oh, no, you are already wounded, are you not, Walter? — You, James, may betake yourself to Upper Wimpole Street! Desire Master Jessamy Merriville to be so good as to come here to collect his dog immediately!”
But even as these words left his lips a bell was heard to clang in the nether regions, and the knocker on the front door was plied with enough violence to make his lordship wince. Walter moved to open the door, and was almost swept off his feet by the tempestuous entrance of Master Jessamy Merriville, with his brother at his heels.
“I’ve come for my dog — is his lordship at home? I must — Down, Luff! Sit! — Oh, sir, is that you? I do beg your pardon! I am excessively sorry, and I jumped into a hack and came the instant Frederica told me, because I knew what must have happened, and how she can have supposed that Luff would go off with a stranger — but females are such nodcocks! Pray forgive me!”
“Not at all!” said his lordship. “I am delighted to see you! In fact, I was on the point of sending one of my people to summon you, none of them being able to persuade Luff to leave the house.”
“Oh, no, he wouldn’t, of course! I do hope he didn’t bite anyone? He isn’t savage, but if he thought anyone was trying to steal him — ”
“Ah, so that was it!” said his lordship. “He was labouring under a delusion, but I daresay that was Walter’s fault, for not making the matter plain to him. My dear boy, don’t look so concerned! Walter likes being bitten by large dogs, and so does Wicken — don’t you, Wicken?”
“The Animal, my lord,” replied Wicken, with dignity, “did not go so far as to bite Me.”
“He will, if you keep on calling him the Animal. Well, Felix, how do you do? What brings you here?”
“I wanted to see you, sir — particularly!” replied Felix, smiling engagingly up at him.
“You terrify me!”
Jessamy, who was receiving Walter’s bashful assurance that he had sustained no more than a flesh wound, turned at that, and said rather hotly: “I never meant him to plague you, sir! He would come, and I was afraid that if I pushed him off the step he would very likely fall under the wheels of some other vehicle, so I was obliged to pull him into the hack. And that was Frederica’s fault too! If she hadn’t said that you were going to Newmarket tomorrow — ”
His irrepressible brother interrupted this speech without ceremony, recommending him to stop being a regular jaw-me-dead. He then raised deceptively angelic eyes to Alverstoke’s face, and said: “You promised to take me to see the pneumatic lift, Cousin Alverstoke, and I thought p’raps you had forgotten, and I ought to remind you.”
The Marquis could not remember having given any such promise; and he said so. His youthful admirer dealt summarily with this caveat, saying: “Yes, you did, sir! Well, you said We’ll see!and that’s the same thing!”
Jessamy gave him a shake. “It’s nothing of the sort! If you don’t hold your tongue, I promise you I’ll give you pepper presently!”
“Hoo!” said Felix disrespectfully. “Try it, and see if you don’t get one in the bread-basket!”
Observing the angry flush in Jessamy’s cheeks, the Marquis judged it to be prudent to intervene, which he did, by saying: “Before you embark on this mill, let us repair to my book-room to partake of refreshment! Wicken, I don’t know what our resources may be, but I rely on you to conjure up suitable refreshment for my guests!”
Jessamy, his flush deepening, said stiffly: “You are very good, sir, but we won’t — we won’t trespass upon your hospitality. I came only to fetch Luff, and — and to repay whatever sum it may have cost you to save him from bein
g impounded! We — we need no refreshment!”
“Yes, we do!” objected Felix. He directed his seraphic gaze, strongly suggestive of a boy suffering from starvation, upon Wicken, and said politely: “If you please!”
“Felix!” exploded Jessamy.
But Wicken, not more hardened than his master against the wiles of schoolboys, visibly unbent, saying benevolently: “To be sure you do, sir! Now, you go into the book-room like a good boy, and you shall have some cakes and lemonade! But mind now! — you mustn’t tease his lordship!”
“Oh, no!” responded Felix soulfully. “And then will you take me to that foundry, Cousin Alverstoke?”
A choking sound reminded the Marquis of his secretary’s presence in the background. He turned his head, smiling with false sweetness, “Ah! If I was not forgetting you, dear boy!” he said, with gentle malice. “Pray come with us into the book-room! I wish to make my — er — wards known to you: Jessamy, and Felix — Mr Trevor!” He waited while the boys, mindful of their manners, executed two bows before shaking hands with Mr Trevor, and then marshalled the party into his library, saying, as soon as the door was closed: “You’ve put yourself in fortune’s way, Felix: Mr Trevor knows far more than I do about pneumatic lifts, and is the very man to take you to the foundry.”
“You are too flattering, sir!” said Charles promptly. “I am very sure I don’t!”
“Well, you can’t know less!” said his lordship, in an undervoice charged with asperity.
“Yes, but you said you would take me yourself, Cousin Alverstoke!”
Hot with embarrassment, Jessamy besought his brother to stop plaguing his lordship to do what anyone but a gudgeon could see he didn’t want to do. This had the effect of causing Felix to direct a look of heartrending reproach at the Marquis, and to say, in the voice of one mortally wounded: “I thought you did want to, sir. You said — ”