An Improper Companion

by April Kihlstrom

  “My dear boy,” Leslie said, “I married Heather straight out of a London schoolroom. I was too eager for the ceremony to worry about conventional visits and such.”

  Philip sighed. “I never would have guessed you to be so romantic, Uncle.” Then he grinned. “Or were you worried about competition? Rightly so, I must say! Heather, you look ravishing.”

  Poor Philip! He looked so astonished at the faces Leslie and I made. How was he to know how unfortunate his choice of words had been. Mary was the one to bridge the awkward moment. “Philip, lead Heather in to dinner.”

  Leslie stood behind my shoulder and I could not see his reaction to Mary’s command. Nor could he see my face or the shyness I felt as I took Philip’s arm. Wanting to be kind to the boy, I chose a topic I was sure would please him. I asked about his new horse. Flushed with pleasure, he answered eagerly. This carried us as far as the table. Unfortunately, it also carried us through the first course. Mary was an excellent horsewoman and Leslie quite a top-sawyer, in fact. It was to be expected then that, overhearing my conversation with Philip, they should continue it. I felt very much an outsider. Surprisingly Mary was the first to notice my silence. “Leslie,” she said hesitantly, “I don’t think Heather is enjoying the topic.”

  I would have denied it had Leslie not turned to regard me so intently. Philip spoke before Leslie could. “I’d forgotten you were a London girl. How green of us. But after seeing you ride this morning, it’s difficult to remember you are a novice. Ain’t it, Uncle?”

  Leslie seemed engrossed by his wine as he replied offhandedly, “I was in no danger of forgetting. But yes, she does rather well for a beginner.”

  “Nipcheese with your compliments, are you?” Philip asked frankly. “If you were like this when you were dangling after Heather, I’m surprised she married you.”

  Feeling on dangerous ground, I said with careful lightness, “Oh, he swept me off my feet, Philip.”

  I could not repress a smile as that drew a quick glare from Leslie. Mary felt obliged to intervene. “Really, Philip! Except perhaps to you, Leslie seems quite the nonesuch!”

  At this, Leslie turned to her with an upraised eyebrow. “I had no idea you thought so, Mary. I recall you always roasted me about how ugly I was.”

  She grinned and for a moment I saw a hint of a mischievous nature. “Of course I did. What are sisters for if not to prevent their brothers from becoming too puffed up in their own conceit?”

  Leslie laughed and I said with mock gravity, “Why, thank you, madam, for helping to prepare him for the state of matrimony.”

  We all laughed then, though I suspect Philip was somewhat bemused by our banter. For my part, I considered Mary more carefully. There was much I did not know about her and I began to think I had underestimated Mary. Her next words were on a different matter. “Matrimony is very well, my dear, but I have not had enough of your company, Heather. Perhaps tomorrow we might go to the village together. I grant you it is small, but there is a shop with excellent ribbons and silks.”

  It sounded like a delightful plan, and I started to say so when Leslie intruded, speaking bluntly. “I am sorry, Mary, but Heather has agreed to visit some of my tenants tomorrow.”

  “You might let the child speak for herself!” Mary bristled. “And you ought not to bearlead her! Let Heather make her own decisions.”

  “It is not a matter of bullying,” Leslie said through clenched teeth. “It is a matter of prior engagements and good manners!”

  Philip entered the brangle. “Oh, Mother! Of course Aunt Heather must go with Uncle if she promised to. Anyway, why you want to go shopping is beyond me. If Heather is like you, she has more ribands and furbelows than she can use!”

  “Well, I only thought it would be pleasant for her,” Mary began defensively, “always cooped up in this gloomy castle...”

  I could restrain myself no longer. In an icy voice I said, “May I speak? Or don’t any of you feel I have a right to an opinion? I trust I have no need of advice on the subject of manners, Leslie. There is no question of cancelling our plans.” I turned to Philip, “Your rudeness surprises me; however I excuse you since you are clearly incapable of comprehending aught except your own point of view. Madam, if you are agreeable, we could go the day after. I should enjoy it very much, and particularly in your company.”

  Mary was smiling again. “Of course, my dear. I shall be delighted!”

  Philip shifted uneasily and Leslie said to him, in an amused tone, “I warned you to be wary of crossing my wife. She can be a tigress.”

  Somehow, he managed to reply gallantly, “But always a charming one.”

  I? I felt pleased with myself. For once I had not allowed the three of them to overset me and I had even enjoyed the encounter. It was excellent practice for my entry into the ton. Leslie still looked amused, approvingly so, and this added to my courage. Suddenly, I recalled a matter I had meant to discuss with my belle-soeur. “Mary,” I said eagerly, “perhaps you might help me. There is a tapestry I wish to mend and could use your advice. I need to find the proper wool and somewhere there must be a tapestry frame in the castle...” I paused, noting the amusement on Philip’s face and Mary’s apparent dismay.

  “Oh dear,” she said, “I’m afraid...”

  Leslie cut her off, saying, “You will find my sister has little skill with a needle, Heather. At the time she should have been learning such things, she was climbing trees and riding instead. One might almost have thought her a boy.”

  “Leslie, if you are implying I am not feminine...” Mary bristled.

  “Oh, no,” he replied easily, “later you obviously turned into a lady. And no one could doubt you are thoroughly a woman. I simply meant that at one time you were too high-spirited to spend hours bending over needlework.”

  “How wonderful!” Philip exclaimed, clearly impressed with this new view of his mother.

  Somewhat mollified by Philip’s admiration, Mary sniffed. “Well, I admit I chafed at all the restrictions placed on young ladies. But I never forgot I was a woman.”

  A thought struck Philip and, I confess, crossed my mind as well. “But how did you manage trees in skirts?”

  Mary flushed, “That was while I was still in short skirts, of course. And what Leslie didn’t tell you is that while I climbed the tree myself, the gardener had to get me down. Of course, I was forbidden to ever do such a thing again.”

  Leslie laughed. “Confess! That didn’t stop you, did it?”

  “No,” she conceded good-naturedly. “It didn’t. I simply became more careful. Only the advent of long skirts and an increase in the number of petticoats halted me. And, of course, the realisation that it was time I began to act like a young lady.”

  We all smiled. Yet, looking at the plump woman before me, it was hard to visualise the young girl who had led such an unorthodox existence. “So you see, Aunt Heather,” Philip intruded, triumphantly, “all the family tends to be a bit wild. Though Mary and my aunts and Leslie have settled down by now.”

  “Are you so sure?” Leslie asked mischievously.

  Philip looked disconcerted as we laughed, but replied quickly enough, “Certainly. Now that you’re all leg-shackled.”

  It was my turn and I asked, “Do I look so staid and sober, then?”

  “The very portrait of respectability,” Leslie teased, and I flushed.

  “You should not joke about such things!” Mary protested.

  Philip cocked a head toward her, “You see what I mean? Never mind, Mother, we love you as you are.”

  We all became abruptly aware of the servants as the covers from the previous course were removed. Leslie cleared his throat. “Yes, well, all of this does not mean one should not attempt to curb one’s impulses, Philip. A bit of spirit is good, certainly, but it is important to be able to control it. I still wish, for example, that you had not been sent down from Oxford.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake!” Philip flushed angrily. “Please don’t preach propriety
to me. I’m not sorry about the incident, only that I was caught.”

  Their eyes met and held, neither wanting to give way. But Leslie was the stronger, and at last, Philip glanced away sullenly. The atmosphere was no longer relaxed and I was relieved when it came time for Mary and me to withdraw. Mary was as disturbed as I. “I do wish Leslie and Philip came to cuffs less often,” she said. “I’ve always hoped they could be friends. But then Leslie has never paid any attention to his nephews or nieces.”

  “Has he many?”

  “Well, there are my four boys, of course,” she said, “and Eleanor’s three girls. Katherine also has two daughters. Though it’s not to be wondered at that Leslie never sees them. Eleanor and Katherine were never fond of him, so he has no reason to care about their children. And such simpering chits! So unlike Philip or my other boys. I always suspected my sisters resented Leslie because they couldn’t inherit the estate. Which was absurd because Father dealt quite generously with us all.”

  I digested this information. If true, I could see why Leslie might have grown up feeling lonely. I wondered why Mary had not shared in the general resentment, then decided I was being unkind. Mary was simply a generous person who loved her brother. I changed the subject, however, by asking Mary her opinion of next season’s fashion. It was a topic she greatly enjoyed and had not exhausted by the time Leslie and Philip joined us.

  “Clothes!” Philip snorted, as soon as he was near enough to hear our words.

  Leslie raised an eyebrow. “I was under the impression, Nephew, that you paid a great deal of attention to your raiment.”

  Philip flushed, “Well, a man has to be well dressed, don’t he?”

  I stepped in with an irate look at my husband. “Actually, Leslie, dear,” I said coolly, “I thought you might ask Philip the name of his tailor. I believe you are overdue for a few new coats.”

  Leslie smiled grimly. “Too late, my dear. I’ve already ordered them from Weston. I trust they will meet your approval. In any event, I’ve no wish to look like a man-milliner, whatever Philip chooses for himself!”

  Why I baited Leslie then, I could not say. Only that I had an irrepressible urge to do so. But the glint in Leslie’s eyes warned me to carry the game no further. So, biting my lip, I replied with no appreciable delay, “Ah, then there is no need for Philip’s man. Naturally I trust your taste, Leslie. It is impeccable.”

  My response startled Leslie as my earlier barb had not. Philip exclaimed, “How disgustingly domestic the two of you sound. Smelling of April and May! I shall retire to the game room.”

  “I’ll join you shortly for a game of billiards,” Leslie told him.

  “And I shall retire to write letters,” Mary said from her chair.

  We waited until they had left, Leslie and I, and still the silence remained. I suspected that I knew his thoughts and so I spoke first. “Do you mean to chide me for taking Philip’s part so readily?” I asked. “I only did so because it seems he has no other ally.”

  Leslie looked at me carefully. “Nevertheless, it would be more suitable if you supported your husband.”

  I laughed bitterly, perhaps because of the dinner wine. “Yes, I must remember to play propriety, musn’t I? But in London it won’t matter since surely no one is expected to care about one’s husband?”

  “Are you so cynical already?” he asked coolly. “What will serve for others will not necessarily serve for us. You had no title, no lands, no standing in the ton. In short, there are only two possibilities. I married you for love or I married you because I was forced to. You may choose which you prefer to have believed, and act accordingly.”

  “Do you truly think you can convince people you love me?” I asked amused.

  “With your help, perhaps,” he answered seriously. “But I admit it will not be a task I can enjoy.”

  “Why?”

  He regarded me coldly. “Because I find such hypocrisy distasteful. And because if you continue to behave publicly as you have, then I shall be regarded as a lobcock. Think well, madam, before our next guest arrives. And now I presume you wish to retire early due to, shall we say, the headache?” Astounded by his audacity, I had not the courage to refuse. Nor was I so sure I wished to remain in his company. At last I curtsied so slightly as to almost be insulting and turned and mounted the stairs, conscious of his eyes still on me. Once in my chamber, to Ellen’s amazement, I began to cry.

  Chapter 8

  I woke early, aware of a pervading stiffness and soreness. In addition, there was the discomfort of the time of month. I felt much like staying in bed, but remembering my promise to visit Leslie’s tenants, I knew I could not. With a sigh, I roused myself and rang for Ellen, then dressed in my riding habit. To Ellen’s questions I replied that for once I would join Leslie for breakfast. She was surprised, but not nearly so surprised as my husband when I appeared in the dining hall a short time later. He regarded me warily as I was seated. A smile twitched at my lips, and after a slight hesitation, I allowed it to show. As my tea was poured I looked at the table and said demurely, “You needn’t look at me that way. I’ve no intention of kicking up a fuss. I thought you might tell me a bit about the various families we are to visit.” Glancing up, I saw that he still looked disturbed. “I thought about what you said, Leslie. And it made sense,” I said sincerely.

  He relaxed and began talking quietly about his tenants. Clearly he knew them well and had sifted out the essential information for me. We would visit his old nurse, the gamekeeper and his wife, and one or two other tenants who had, at some point, served the family. Leslie was still discoursing when Philip entered. “Good morning, Uncle, Aunt Heather. Riding today? Oh, that’s right, the tenants.”

  “Yes, the tenants,” Leslie said easily.

  As Philip helped himself from the sideboard he addressed me. “Well, I don’t envy you. Such a bore! Father drags me off on such visits on our estate about once a year, and I hate them. What do you say, Heather, shall we sneak away somewhere and have a party, al fresco, instead?”

  I laughed at Philip’s boyishness. “I think not. Besides, I doubt I shall find the calls such a penance. Remember, I have had fewer opportunities for meeting people than you.”

  “Leslie, why don’t you bring Heather to Town?” Philip asked. “You really ought to take her during the Season. I’m sure she would enjoy it.”

  Leslie was not in the least disconcerted. “So she would and I intend to ... later. At the moment, it is inconvenient to leave the estate.”

  “Will you give a ball to present her?” Philip asked eagerly.

  “Of course.” Leslie smiled. “That’s the proper thing, isn’t it?”

  I was too surprised to speak. I could not imagine myself at such a ball, but I knew Leslie too well to think he was roasting me. I was grateful he felt no urgency to proceed to London. Then I realised Leslie was speaking again, “...on the Continent. Heather has never been there and I am anxious to show her Paris and Rome.”

  “Then I must learn Italian,” I said without thinking.

  “Why?” Philip asked. “In good inns they know English, and besides, Leslie knows a bit of the language. You’ve no need to learn.”

  It seemed pointless to argue with Philip. Irritated, I glanced at Leslie, only to find him watching me with laughter in his eyes. And, it almost seemed, understanding. He spoke lightly, “I shall be glad to teach you, my dear, any words you may need to know.”

  Feeling thoroughly routed, I rose. “Shall we be going, Leslie? It begins to grow late.”

  “Oh, assuredly,” he replied, getting to his feet. “It must be all of nine o’clock.”

  I was intolerably aware of how fine Leslie looked in his russet riding-coat and buckskin breeches. We walked to the stables in silence, though I felt his dark eyes on me. Nor, once we had left the dining hall, did he retain a hold on my elbow. He seemed as determined as I to resist a quarrel and waited patiently as I drew on my gloves and tied the strings of my bonnet. Using the groom’
s laced fingers, I mounted easily and without fear. The mare stood quiet as I stroked her gentle neck. Then Leslie was up beside me and we set off at an easy pace.

  It was a cool morning which, in view of the weight of my habit, was fortunate. My hair was securely pinned atop my head and the breeze felt good on my neck. The first visit was to Leslie’s old nurse. She had obviously been warned of our visit for she stood in the doorway waiting: a small, plump, gentle-looking woman. Leslie slid off his horse then lifted me down. I waited as he tethered the horses, then hugged her in greeting. I stepped forward as he presented me. “Nanny. My wife, Heather.”

  She had not, I recalled, been present at the reception on the lawn. I gave her my cheek to kiss. As she stood a way back to look me over I smiled and she said, “I fancy her, Leslie. Have ye been treatin’ her well?”

  He didn’t answer and I realised that perhaps I should. But the words would not come, and after a moment, Nanny said angrily. “So it’s true, Leslie! I’d not have thought it of ye. Come in, child. Let me talk with ye. Leslie, will ye fetch me some water?”

  Leslie nodded and hastened off, bucket in hand. My face flaming, I also obeyed the old woman. Her cottage was small but tidy, and on a chair lay her knitting. Scarcely knowing why, I felt at ease there and bold enough to ask, “How did you know?”

  She sighed. “Mrs. Morgan often sends me scraps from the castle and the maid who brought the last basket told me the tale. They’d not gossip outside, but after all I belong. I didn’t believe the girl until I saw Master Leslie’s face today. I cannot understand it! He’s always been a gentle enough lad, though spirited. Will ye tell me how it happened?”

  And so I did. It was easier than I expected. She waited silently until I had finished and even then paused in thought. At last she said, “Ye’ll hurt yerself more than him by yer hatred. Give yerself a chance to know him.”

  Perhaps she would have said more had Leslie not returned just then. But now it was my turn to be sent out of the cottage to feed the horses some dried apples. Leslie was, I presume, being scolded, for when he emerged a few minutes later, he looked rather sheepish. Nanny kissed us both good-bye, telling Leslie to visit her again soon and to bring me as well. We trotted away waving, but as soon as we were down the road a bit I noticed he was glowering. “Was it so bad?” I asked, half in sympathy, half in amusement.