Clarissa and the Poor Relations

by Alicia Cameron

  Charles interjected cheerfully, ‘Not at all. You don’t seem at all bookish to me. Not like those terrible women at the literary luncheons my mother gives who creep up on one and ask if I think Sophocles was right. It leaves one completely bug-eyed.’

  ‘Your conversation, Charles, though always diverting, is not always useful,’ said Grandiston quelling. ‘Won’t you continue, Miss Thorne?’

  Clarissa laughed and blushed, ‘I’m afraid, Mr Booth, that we ladies are all frightfully bookish and have even been known to talk about Sophocles over luncheon’ –Mr Booth looked shocked –’but not to young gentlemen who might not enjoy it.’

  ‘That’s all right then.’ said Mr Booth, relieved.

  ‘Charles.’ admonished Grandiston despairingly.

  Clarissa continued, ‘Now my brother, though not fond of me, I think, wishes to give me a home. He believes that though perfectly surrounded by chaperones, I am not fit to be left alone.’

  Miss Appleby interjected clutching Grandiston’s arm, ‘I cannot but think he is also moved by motives of gain. For his offer of a home was never so pressed after her dear mother first died. It was only after her cousin died and left the estate…’

  Miss Micklethwaite’s no nonsense tones interjected. ‘Naturally, being an ignorant male of the usual sort,’ - here her baleful eye ran over the assembled gentlemen, in case they should protest; none of them did – ‘he holds that females are unable to run their own affairs. In spite of her superior education, Clarissa’s youth might have inclined me to agree in this case. However, that scheming wench he’s married will make her life a misery if she goes there and she’ll find a way to line her pockets, or I’m a kipper.’

  Mr Booth felt that this extraordinary statement required some sort of rebuff (to the effect, perhaps, that she left no odour of fish?), made a strangled sound and was relieved when Miss Micklethwaite swept on.

  ‘They are social climbers, both of them, and I cannot stomach people who pretend to more than their situation in life. That, of course, is why young John could not stomach my dear Mrs Thorne. She was the daughter of a Viscount, brought up in this very house in its heyday and had no need to adopt airs or worry over her respectability. She was a great lady and she could not but show it, even in a schoolhouse.’ Her eyes grew misty, but she shook off the weakness that she detested and continued, ‘If it were better for Clarissa to go to her brother, I can speak for all of us here in wishing for it. We are ready to leave whenever it is necessary. But, my lord, if you have any suggestions to avoid this, I should be pleased if you would speak.’

  Every one of the ladies was astounded that Miss Micklethwaite should ask the opinion of the despised sex. Her reliance on Grandiston was unheralded and must be from some instinct that ran deep after such a relatively short acquaintance. However, Miss Appleby was sure such a tall man must have the answers, Miss Petersham had reason to know and trust him and Miss Thorne shared the same instincts, so they turned uncritical gazes on him and awaited his words.

  If Grandiston was aware of the irony of the situation, thought Mr Elfoy, he gave no sign. It was his custom to command and Elfoy found himself awaiting his words as hopefully as the ladies.

  They had by this time retired to the drawing room and Grandiston stood by the fire, one hand on the mantle above him very much at ease.

  ‘It seems to me that you need to be busy getting to know your neighbours. Perhaps if you can establish yourself a little in the community it will be that much more difficult to dislodge you. If he feels the acceptance of the local gentry of your position here he may find upsetting them gives him pause.’

  ‘I have long wished to welcome those of our neighbours who have called, but Sullivan has thus far denied us, until we could put the house and garden a little in order.’ said Miss Appleby.

  ‘You have all done a splendid job of it and it now behoves you to take you place in society.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Oriana, ‘But will it serve, my Lord? Mr Thorne need not care for the opinions of this restricted neighbourhood when he lives so distant.’

  Grandiston smiled. ‘Indeed. Is it so restricted? The son of a Baronet has just leased your Dower House…’

  ‘And has an Earl to stay.’ finished Mr Booth. ‘Dashed bad form to puff up your consequence, Hugo.’

  ‘Isn’t it just? But I get the feeling, from what the ladies have said that the more we puff up our consequence in Mr Thorne’s presence the better off it might be. If he sees a way into more elevated company, perhaps…’

  ‘Trust Sullivan for that.’ interjected Miss Micklethwaite.

  ‘Oh dear,’ sighed Clarissa, ‘How dreadfully vulgar this all is, but I can’t help thinking you’re right, sir. He’s a dreadful snob. He was so delighted when Juliana Sowersby befriended me when I came to stay with him last year. She’s the daughter of the finest family in his village and a sweet girl. Cornelia was furious because she’d never been invited to the Manor.’

  ‘Sowersby? Is that old Jonas Sowersby’s heiress? I never met her.’ said Charles.

  ‘I did,’ said Grandiston unexpectedly, ‘She was at Almack’s a number of times this season. Charming girl.’

  ‘That explains it. Never go there - devilish dull place. Had to squire my sisters there until they got engaged. Don’t care what you did in the Peninsular, Hugo, braving a night with my mother and sisters at Almack’s and being obliged to dance with m’mother’s friends, well, I should get a medal.’

  ‘Quite, Charles; however, we are considering the best advice to give Miss Thorne at the moment. Why don’t you invite Miss Sowersby to stay? The season is ending and she might be free to visit on her way further north, don’t you think?’

  ‘What a good idea. If Juliana were to be here when John arrived he should at least take care how he spoke to me. He would not order me to pack my bags at once, which I live in dread of him doing. But, will she come…?’

  ‘Another thing, my Lord,’ interrupted Mr Elfoy, ‘If Sullivan begins to admit callers then my Lord and Lady Staines will no doubt appear. That may not be to Miss Thorne’s advantage, since Lord Staines had desired to buy the Estate and had indeed arranged something of the sort with Mr Thorne.’

  ‘You did not tell me that, sir.’ gasped Clarissa. ‘Well, of all the cheek. This house is none of my brother’s.’

  ‘I think that between Charles and I we can endeavour to reconcile Lord Staines to the inevitability of Miss Thorne’s residence here.’

  Elfoy looked sceptical and Booth astonished, but he caught Grandiston’s eye and so said, ‘Oh, quite.’

  It was some time later, on the drive home, before Charles was able to vent his feelings, ‘How on earth are we to get Staines to approve of Miss Thorne staying in a place that he has coveted for years? Not like you to give the ladies false hope, Hugo. Come to think of it, I’m not at all sure that your stratagems for fobbing off Thorne will work. If he hopes to profit from his sister’s legacy, then a little local disapproval in Hertfordshire won’t upset him.’

  ‘The ladies require us to be knights-errant, Charles. They depend on us entirely. I’m sure that we can pull this off. The trick is to give everyone what they want.’

  The Honourable Charles’ handsome face took on an exasperated expression. ‘Of course I mean to help the gels, that is, all the ladies of course, but I still don’t see how…’

  Grandiston laid a hand on his shoulder in a placating fashion, ‘What would be the least desirable thing for Staines in obtaining Ashcroft at the present?’

  Charles looked blank then said, ‘The cost, I’d say. An estate that size, even run down, would cost…’

  ‘Precisely Charles. You are not as dull-witted as I feared.’ he ignored the young man’s protest and continued, ‘Now, supposing we could show Lord Staines a way to obtain the estate without the cost.’ He paused and looked at his companion expectantly for a depressingly protracted period. Then:

  ‘He could marry it.’ shouted Charles brilliantly. Grandiston patted hi
m on the shoulder. ‘But I say, Hugo we can’t really expect Miss Thorne to marry the fellow. It was only when we went to stay with him that I realized what a crashing bore he is – wouldn’t foist him on that sweet girl for worlds. Strange that, you meet a fellow in the club and at the races say and he seems perfectly fine, then you go to a house party and discover he collects bird eggs or some such thing. You just never know old man.’

  Grandiston grinned. ‘Miss Thorne will not be expected to marry him, Charles, but Staines may at least be brought to think so.’ Charles looked sceptical. ‘Our stratagems are helped along by his vanity. He will, of course, believe that Miss Thorne must be overcome by his charms. We’ll just put the thought in his Lordship’s head. It is a delaying tactic. The longer the ladies remain at Ashcroft, the more difficult it will be for her brother to be seen to be acting in her best interests if he suggests their removal. The whole neighbourhood remarks the change in the estate. They are a remarkable group of women. I have yet another job for you, my dear boy’

  Charles looked suspicious, ‘Yes?’

  ‘It is time to enrich the neighbourhood further. If you were to go the town, Charles, and let some of your acquaintance know the whereabouts of the beautiful Miss Petersham…’

  Chapter 11

  Paying Calls

  Mr Booth was not long delayed in town, but the ladies were busy in the meantime paying back all the calls from neighbours who had been denied their presence by the redoubtable Sullivan. Whilst Miss Micklethwaite kept to the house and estate, Misses Appleby, Petersham and Thorne drove the late Viscount’s landaulet around to make themselves known.

  The first visit was to Lord Staines and his mother. Lord Grandiston happened to be visiting when the ladies were announced and began to see his plans take their first unexpected twist. As his lordship rose to greet Miss Thorne, the Earl was pleased to see that his eyes lit up at the sight of such a pretty young heiress to the land he so cherished. The depth of his bow over Clarissa’s outstretched hand was the sure sign of a beginning flirtation and Grandiston was pleased to think that his stratagems had worked so well. It did not last, however. As Staines rose, his eye alighted on her companion and his jaw dropped, as Clarissa noticed with amusement.

  Oriana, who had given up her attempts to look like a school mistress since the appearance of her old friend, looked perfectly ravishing in a pale blue velvet pelisse and high crowned bonnet. The peacock feather that curled gently over the brim contained the deep green of her eyes whilst the golden curls framed a face so beautiful as to leave their host temporarily bereft of speech. Oh well, thought Grandiston - always a man to respond to the moment - that will do quite as well.

  Lady Staines (in primrose and a pink shawl) took in the situation at a glance and came forward to welcome the ladies and to sit them down. ‘Who is this girl?’ She thought, ‘Why didn’t I catch her name?’ However, Clarissa was introducing her and the silly Appleby woman again and her ladyship smiled easily while she thought madly. She had a natural bias against a young lady whose hair was the colour that she herself tried to maintain with great discomfort and who moreover had reduced her tiresome young son to a stuffed cabbage. When she heard her name though, she remembered the tales of Sir Fitzroy Petersham’s sister who had been the season’s beauty in a year when her own health had not permitted more than a short visit to town. Good birth then, but what was her fortune? She would send a letter to London tonight.

  Lord Staines had at last recovered himself and addressed himself to Oriana.

  ‘I am acquainted with your brother, Miss Petersham.’ He said, with a warm glance.

  Oriana’s eyes burned fiery ice and she said indifferently, ‘Oh, yes?’

  Grandiston was diverted. Poor Staines. He could not have hit upon anything less winning to say to the object of his gallantry.

  Clarissa interjected, momentarily drawing Staines eyes away from the icy, but beautiful Miss Petersham.

  ‘I believe you are acquainted with my brother also, are you not sir?’

  The Earl liked the little lady more and more - this was going for poor Staines’ throat since the only occasion he had to meet her brother was when he had hoped to arrange the sale of Ashcroft without her own consent. But his Lordship recovered well, ‘Yes, I had that pleasure whilst he was visiting the district on some business of yours, I believe.’

  Clarissa could not help herself from replying, ‘No business of mine, I assure you, my Lord.’

  There was a brief pause before Lady Staines inquired archly, ‘And how do you like the new tenants of the Dower House, my dear? Do you see much of Mr Booth?’

  For some reason the natural response to this sounded a trifle off, for both young ladies realized that their tenant and his companion had been spending rather more time with them than was usual. Unexpectedly, Miss Appleby came quite smoothly to their rescue, ‘Indeed we do. We ladies so enjoy the gentlemen’s occasional visits for we found,’ she leant forward confidingly towards her ladyship, ‘that Lord Grandiston here was Sir Ralph’s dearest friend and an old friend of Miss Petersham’s family. Was anything so fortunate? Of course the dear boys do get tired untangling our silks for us and the like. A houseful of women such as we are poor company for London men.’ Here she smiled teasingly at Lord Grandiston who could not afterwards decide if she knew how masterfully respectable she made the gentlemen’s visits seem.

  Lord Staines thereafter tried to thaw out Miss Petersham with no success. Only for the shortest time of novelty had she enjoyed being accounted beautiful when she had gone to London. With little help from her brother she had soon tired of the fulsome compliments and disturbing attentions. Even the least silly of her suitors had seemed to wish to talk more about her beauty than her real self and she had become both bored and oppressed by it. Another suitor could not please her- especially not one who was friend to her despised brother.

  The ladies took their leave and Grandiston walked them to the carriage. As he handed Oriana up he smiled at her, ‘Strive to keep your temper in check, ice maiden. A little kindness from you may cause Lord Staines to be a little less interested in doing business so quickly with Mr Thorne.’

  She looked disgusted, ‘Grandiston, I could not be kind to that toad.’

  She looked so much like her sixteen year- old self that he gave a crack of laughter. ‘Oriana, my dear, think of Clarissa.’ he said caressingly.

  The steps were up, Oriana’s eyes flashed at him, they drove away and the Earl laughed after them.

  In the next days they visited old Sir Montague Holmes, the eldest and sweetest of the neighbourhood gentry whose bluff good humour had delighted them. He was unfortunately kept to his square manor house with bad health, but he invited the ladies to come again soon. He showed a strong disposition to flirt with Miss Appleby, which seemed to render her strangely quiet and shy instead of giddy as she had been in the presence of Booth and Grandiston. However, she did remember a family remedy which she hoped might allay the worst of Sir Montague’s spasms and she offered to make it up and send it to him from Ashcroft. Sir Montague thanked her but fixed her with his rather bleary eyes and suggested, ‘Why don’t you bring it, my dear? I daresay I’d need advice on how to take it and so on.’ Miss Appleby blushed and gave no promise.

  The vicar and his wife and their pretty daughters Charlotte and Annabel welcomed them next and introduced the most prominent of the ladies of the village to their notice. Miss Petersham was attested to be the most beautiful of young ladies, but loyal to their district, the ladies were happy to see a real quality in Clarissa-- a real look of the old Viscount.

  The most important call, in Clarissa’s mind, was the one made to Mr Elfoy’s mother.

  This lady lived in a modest, but substantial stone cottage on the edge of the village with a garden as neatly tended as any they had seen. The fat thatch and the polished mullioned windows were a perfect prospect and the lady that came to meet them was a surprise. Her hair was perfectly white, but prematurely so, for a dignifie
d and handsome face belied the white hair. She smiled a genuine welcome but Clarissa felt a little reserve in her which melted when she found that she was not to be treated to any patronage by the young ladies and melted still further as they both enthused about the many qualities of her beloved son.

  Oriana was amused and a little worried to note the extreme interest betrayed in each other by her friend and Mrs Elfoy. Obviously, the lady had some inkling of her son’s feelings and was concerned for him. Despite this, she could not but take to the shining Clarissa and her request for help in getting to know her neighbours and her interest in village life.

  Later that week, the young ladies were found by the newly returned Mr Booth and his companion in the morning room, having recently ushered out Lord and Lady Staines.

  ‘Miss Thorne, ladies. Glad to find you at home. Just returned from town and come to pay my respects at once,’ said the Hon. Charles, very much at his ease.

  Clarissa greeted him in the same manner; ‘You are our third morning callers, gentlemen, so do not be surprised if our stock of light conversation has totally dried up. Whoever said it was dull in the country. Pray be seated.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Charles, wisely, ‘but you are an object of curiosity. Don’t give it a thought; you’ll be old news in a week.’

  ‘Well.’ laughed Oriana, ‘Just such a curiosity as Farmer Skipton’s prize bull, Clarissa. Now we understand our neighbours’ kind attentions.’ Clarissa let out a whoop at Charles’ crestfallen expression and Mrs Micklethwaite intervened.

  ‘That is quite enough from all of you. Well, your Lordship, you see the village embraces Clarissa - how can this help our cause?’ She turned to the Earl who was lounging on the settle playing idly with his quizzing glass and watching the interplay with a smile.

  ‘Yes.’ said Oriana with spirit, ‘And what did you mean when you said I should be kind to that weasel Staines. I have just had to endure a whole twenty minutes of his company and he barely acknowledged the other ladies.’