by Mira Stables
Whereupon Faith plied her needle with renewed industry, and the fascinating subject was allowed to drop.
Chapter Six
PIERS made no attempt at a formal dinner party. Even if his numbers had been even he had not the staff to deal with such an affair. And indeed a homely, ‘family’ type of party was more to his taste. After years of the strict etiquette observed in the Navy, he had discovered in himself a marked preference for simpler colonial ways.
He also had the innate tact to reject any thought of an elaborate meal which could only serve to remind three of his guests of a very different dinner table, though he had ordered a variety of creams and sweetmeats that he thought would be a treat for the girls without being too ostentatious.
The party went well from the beginning. The home made spencers had turned out successfully so the girls were able to feel themselves quite appropriately dressed, and Clemency had been much touched when Papa, just before leaving home, had produced a pearl necklace and said that he was sure that Mama would wish to lend it to her for the party. He clasped it about her throat himself, explaining to her sisters that most of Mama’s jewellery was too grand and sophisticated for such very young ladies to wear, or they, too, should have had some pretty trinket to trick out their party dresses.
Conversation at first was a little shy and correct, except for the youngest guest, who found just the opportunity for which she had been waiting in the more restrained mood of her elders. Then her naïve and eager questioning elicited the fact that Captain Kennedy had once met Matthew Flinders.
That brought Clemency into the conversation, for the distinguished explorer was one of her heroes. Cheeks delicately flushed, brown eyes aglow, she quite forgot her fixed intention of treating her host with cool civility and poured out question after eager question. “Worse than Faith!” as Prudence told her when they talked the party over during the nightly hair brushing session. Her loving, detailed knowledge of those early voyages, especially that of the Tom Thumb quite amazed Piers, who had not thought that such matters would interest a girl.
“She ought to have been a boy. Then she could have run away to sea and gone a-roving herself,” teased her father proudly, and broke the spell of self-forgetfulness. She realised that she had been monopolising her host, blushed, and turned back to her father to help him prepare a slice of pineapple. The easy, unobtrusive way in which the girls steered him through any small difficulty was a pleasant sight, thought Lady Eleanor, and drew Faith’s attention to a lemon cream which had so far escaped her notice.
The three men moved closer together when the ladies had withdrawn and talked companionably over their wine. The talk turned again to Australia, Mr. Longden being particularly interested in the discoveries made the previous year when Howell and Hume had crossed the Murray river. Presently Piers suggested that his cousin might care to join the ladies as he wished to seize the opportunity of a private word with Mr. Longden, and Giles, nothing loth, went off to be warmly welcomed in the drawing-room, though one young lady at least was more concerned about the conversation that might be taking place downstairs.
The awkward moment being upon him, Piers tackled the problem with characteristic forthrightness.
“Sir, I am about to take outrageous advantage of my position as your host to introduce a subject rarely discussed between even the most intimate of friends — money.”
Longden stiffened a little, though his expression of courteous attention remained unchanged.
Piers went on, “I have too high a regard for you to subscribe to the belief that one should hide unpleasant facts just because you have the misfortune to be blind. My aunt and your daughters seem to think this shielding is necessary. For myself, I imagine there is nothing you would like less.”
The interrogative note in his voice received a crisp affirmative.
“Very well. Forgive my bluntness, but it is fairly generally known among your friends that you are in some financial difficulty because of the failure of these South American mines. You are not alone, of course. A great many fortunes have come to grief. But in your case, your daughters have hit upon the notion of helping you out of your difficulties by seeking situations.”
There was a sharp exclamation of disbelief from the quiet man beside him.
“Quite true, Sir. Miss Longden called upon me last week to enlist my aid in forwarding the scheme. Not knowing the facts, I advised her to consult my aunt, and when she declined to do so, I told her and am sure you will subscribe to my view — that a man prefers to support his own daughters.”
“Yes, indeed,” said Longden simply. “Believe me truly grateful. Not for your disclosures, which are sufficiently unpalatable, but for having the courage and honesty to tell me the truth. Why must well meaning friends endeavour to shelter me from all unpleasantness? The pity is that it’s so damned easy to do,” he said bitterly, and then smiled in Piers’s direction. “At least I can acquit you on that charge. Thank you for recognising that I am still a man.”
“Why, thank you, Sir, for taking my interference in such good part,” returned Piers, laughing a little. “I half expected you to damn me to hell for impudence.”
Longden joined in the laughter, but sobered soon enough. “The case is this,” he said ruefully. “Most of my personal fortune is sunk in those wretched mines. I should have left well alone. No head for business — never had. But I shall come about easily enough. I hold certain assets that will relieve the situation. I was loth to part with them, but rather than have my girls seeking their bread with strangers —” He broke off with a shrug of distaste.
“That is good hearing, Sir,” said Piers politely. “If I can be of service to you, I beg you will not hesitate to make use of me. As you must be aware, I would be only too pleased to be able to repay in some small part my debt to you.”
“Debt?” said Longden, puzzled. “I do not know of any — Good God! Not that old tale! You owe me nothing, boy. Had I been a little older and realised the risk I ran of hitting you rather than the dog, I had probably held my fire.”
“Thank heaven you didn’t. Better to have fired and hit me than leave me to risk so foul a death. I reckon myself very much obliged to you, and would be glad of the chance to prove it.”
The older man smiled at him. “If you insist. I would be very well pleased to use you in this business, not one I would care to entrust to strangers. It is a matter of selling jewellery, and will, I imagine, entail a journey to London, or to some other large centre where such valuables may readily find a purchaser.”
Piers mulled this over thoughtfully. Then he said, “I should think that, just at the present, with so many businesses tottering to ruin and even the banks in difficulties, jewellery would be a very sound investment. You could sell outright, or you could use it as security for negotiating a loan.”
Mr. Longden sighed a little wearily. “Do as you think best, my boy. I have a slight prejudice against selling outright if any other means can be arranged, but I leave the decision to you. Perhaps we can discuss the business in more detail when you are at leisure.”
That suited Piers very well, giving him a breathing space in which to perfect his plans. The amount of the ‘loan’ would have to be nicely calculated to support the family in decent comfort without being suspiciously lavish. It was not the time, when entertaining dinner guests, to apply himself to the fabrication of a tale that would serve. He was very happy to agree that further discussion should be deferred, and to offer his guest an arm to steer him to the drawing-room.
As they mounted the stairs, Longden said, suddenly, awkwardly, “You say that my difficulties are generally known. Is my poverty so very obvious?”
“Good God, no, Sir,” lied Piers stoutly. “Just one or two small pointers. Putting down your carriage for instance, and selling your horses. Only your true friends would notice. And my aunt — women see these details — says that the girls are a trifle shabby.” That would hurt, he knew, but it must be said if Longden was to reali
se the shifts to which his daughters had been put before they had been driven to the extreme course of seeking employment. At least he need not be told that they had gone hungry. He hastened to soothe the pain that he had inflicted by adding cheerfully, “I can assure you that they look very becomingly tonight. Your youngest promises to become a beauty. I make no doubt she will be all the rage when she makes her debut.”
“Little Faith? She was always a taking child. But it is my Clemency who favours her mama. Not so pretty as her little sister, but a great-heart, loving and loyal to the last shred. But how shocking in me to be boring on for ever about my children. I beg your pardon. Of late we have gone about so little that I forget the observances of polite society.”
“You should be thankful for it, Sir. Since I have made my home overseas I fear I find this business of social façade both false and wearisome. I much prefer an evening natural and gay, as tonight has been — if you discount our private talk — and shall hope to have the pleasure repeated frequently during my stay.”
They entered the drawing-room at this point of amity, John Longden looking so cheerful that Clemency’s tight clasped hands relaxed and her mouth curved in sympathy as she rose to take his hand and settle him in the chair that she had vacated by Lady Eleanor’s side. The three younger members of the party were playing loo for cowrie shell stakes, and judging by the groans and the laughter getting as much fun out of it as if they had been playing for guineas.
“Shall we join these hardened gamesters?” invited Piers, but Clemency only shook her head.
“I would rather speak with you, Captain Kennedy, if I may do so without imposition.”
He bowed, grave of countenance, if with an inward smile at her direct approach. “Then may I invite you to stroll in the conservatory for a while? A rather grandiose title for so small a place, and scant room for strolling, but it permits us to observe the conventions while affording a measure of privacy, which seems very desirable when you ask to speak with me in that minatory manner. I find myself instinctively recalling my latest sins and wondering which one has found me out.”
She laughed at that, assured him that it was no such thing, and allowed him to lead her through the curtained entrance to the tiny conservatory which was Beach’s private kingdom.
“Unusual in a sailor,” commented Piers idly, “this passion for floriculture, but he has certainly made it a pleasant little place.”
Clemency paid only courtesy attention to this opening gambit. “Sir, have you spoken to my father?” she demanded urgently.
“Yes, Miss Longden — upon the terms that we agreed. He is much opposed to your plan of seeking employment, and I would advise you to allow him to grow accustomed to the idea of so radical a change before making any further move in the matter. Meanwhile he intends to put his financial affairs in my hands. But you will appreciate that it would be most improper in me to discuss his intentions in detail, even with his daughter. No doubt he will tell you himself what he wishes you to know.”
He could almost see the hackles rising and a decidedly militant glint in the brown eyes. He went on, with rueful amusement, “I suppose I am now equally involved with you in this conspiracy of deceit. Your father asked me point blank if his difficulties were so very patent. Are you shocked to hear that I lied to him as heartily as, I make no doubt, you would have done yourself?”
She softened visibly, even putting one slim hand on his sleeve in a gesture made up of apology and gratitude. “Thank you, Sir. That was kindly done.” And then a mischievous smile curved that adorable mouth, and she said thoughtfully, “As a fellow conspirator you will find it rather more difficult to coerce me into submission, won’t you? It is, after all, a game that two can play. How if I choose to destroy your credit with my father?”
He laughed down at her. “You won’t do it, Miss Mischief, for your father’s sake. Do you think I did not allow for that before so exposing myself to attack?”
With an impudence regrettable in a well brought up young lady she wrinkled her nose at him. He said softly. “If you do that again, my girl, I won’t be answerable for the consequences. Don’t rely too far on your privileged position as a guest in my house. I am already extremely desirous of repeating the shocking conduct to which I treated you at our first meeting. Don’t tempt me too far.”
She gasped, and coloured furiously, backing away towards the curtained doorway that led to safe chaperonage. He made no attempt to detain her, merely saying gently, “We shall now rejoin the rest of the party. But bear my warning in mind, Miss Longden, and never underrate your adversary, even if he is temporarily your ally.”
Chapter Seven
THEY had scarcely done talking over the first party that they had attended in months, and the finishing touches had not yet been put to the new dresses, when Clemency found a temporary job.
The unwitting — not to say unwilling — cause of this sudden change of circumstance was Lady Eleanor. Setting forth briskly on her daily inspection of the dairy she had slipped on the blue flag pathway and fallen heavily. No serious damage was done, but she was badly shaken and further incapacitated by a sprained ankle and a dislocated thumb. The physician was cheerful, assuring her son that rest and a little cosseting would soon put matters to rights, and Lady Eleanor herself, enduring her discomforts with fortitude, assured her anxious menfolk that she would be perfectly well after a night’s sleep. But next morning found her heavy eyed and feverish, while the nature of her injuries made it difficult for her to perform the smallest service for herself.
Piers, calling at Ash Croft and reporting this state of affairs, was promptly invited to carry Clemency and Faith back with him so that they might see what could be done to help their kind friend. He assented willingly, not mentioning several important business appointments, and enjoyed a private chuckle that Mistress Clemency did not propose to risk a tête-à-tête even when she was bound on an errand of mercy. Three was rather a tight fit in the curricle that he was driving on this occasion, especially when one of them carried a basket which in itself was quite a formidable chaperone. What in heaven’s name could they be carrying to a house that was far better found than their own? Faith, who had now dispensed with all pretence of formality in her dealings with him, supplied the answer.
“Please drive steadily, won’t you, Piers? There are eggs in the basket — our special brown ones — and if you overturn us they’ll all be smashed, not to mention Betsy’s things.”
Further questioning elicited the information that Betsy had sent the invalid some of her famous herbal remedies, guaranteed to cure sprains and bruises far more efficiently than ‘doctor’s stuff’ as their sender contemptuously described it. Then there was a comb of heather honey to which Lady Eleanor was extremely partial, and Faith was anxious that all these fragile treasures should arrive intact. “Though it is a great pity,” she ended sorrowfully, “for I have never ridden in a curricle before, and I would love to go really fast.”
Piers, overlooking the aspersion on his driving skill, meekly held the greys to a gentle trot, and managed to deposit both passengers and basket undamaged. He then took himself off at a spanking pace designed to make up for lost time, which caused Faith to gaze after him in wide-eyed admiration and Clemency to say that he was an odious show-off, on which head they wrangled amicably until they were admitted to Lady Eleanor’s bedchamber.
They found her a little improved but restless and uncomfortable and glad to have her sheets and pillows smoothed and her face bathed by Clemency, while Faith moved quietly about the room tidying away various misplaced articles which had been infuriating the meticulously neat patient by their disorder.
“Oh! That is so much better,” she sighed gratefully when they had settled her comfortably and sat down to chat. “So foolish of me to let such trifles fret me, but it is enough to drive one crazy, lying here helpless and the room in such a state. I found myself almost wishing that I had succumbed to Giles’s persuasions to engage a personal maid. He wish
ed me to do so, you know, last year when I was so low after the influenza, but it seemed to me a needless extravagance, with Mattie so neat fingered over hooking up my gowns and very obliging about setting a stitch where it is needed. And I have always preferred to keep my own room in order. You cannot imagine how much better I feel to see all tidy again. You are two dear good girls — and so is Prudence, for I make no doubt she would be here as well if it were not for caring for your papa.”
“Indeed she would, ma’am, and has sent you some of her heather honey and the brown eggs that you prefer in token of her sympathy.”
“Dear child,” murmured Lady Eleanor fondly, and added rather inconsequently, “I cannot imagine why our hens never lay brown eggs, but the poultry woman assures me that they never do — and I expect she is perfectly to be trusted, do not you?”
Faith swallowed a giggle. The poultry woman was a contemporary and bitter rival of Betsy’s. She had the face and disposition of a battle axe, and a fierce pride in her witless charges which only stopped short of dyeing their eggs brown to suit her fastidious mistress because she could see no way of doing it short of boiling them. The suggestion that she might be guilty of tampering with the manor’s eggs was distinctly comical. Clemency was quite thankful when Lady Eleanor suggested that her little sister might care to go down to the stables to look at a new filly foal, just two days old, before Faith was betrayed into unbecoming mirth. When she was done in the stables, added their hostess, she might bring up some hot milk and queen cakes. It would spare the maids, and goodness knew what state of muddle they were all in below stairs, lacking her personal supervision.