Frederica

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Frederica Page 5

by Georgette Heyer


  ‘Good God! Then what becomes of you and your sister?’

  ‘Oh, we are perfectly well to pass!’ she assured him. ‘Mama’s fortune was settled on her daughters, you see, so we have £5,000 each. I expect that doesn’t seem to you very much, but it does make us independent, and it means that Charis won’t be a penniless bride.’

  ‘Ah! She is engaged, then?’

  ‘No, not yet. That is why I was determined, when Papa died, just over a year ago, to bring her to London. You see, at Graynard she had as well be buried alive! There isn’t even a watering-place within our reach, so how can she form an eligible connection? She – she is quite wasted, Lord Alverstoke! You will understand, when you see her, why I felt it to be my duty to bring her out in London! She is the loveliest girl! She has the sweetest disposition imaginable, too, never cross or crotchety, and she deserves to make a splendid marriage!’

  ‘I have it on the authority of my secretary that she is a diamond of the first water,’ said his lordship dryly. ‘But splendid marriages, Miss Merriville, in general depend on splendid dowries.’

  ‘Not always!’ she countered swiftly. ‘Only think of the Gunning sisters! Why, one of them married two Dukes, and I know she wasn’t a great heiress, because Papa told me about them, saying that Charis beat them both to flinders! Not that I expect Charis to marry a Duke – or any nobleman, unless, of course, one offered for her! But I do expect her to make a very good marriage, if only I can contrive to have her brought out creditably! My mind has been set on it this age, but how to contrive it was the question. And then, when I almost felt myself to be at a stand, Mr Salcombe came to ask me whether I would consider hiring the house furnished, for a year! The thing was that he had heard of someone who had lately retired, and wished to buy a property in Herefordshire, and not finding just what he wanted had hit upon the notion of hiring a house for a limited time in the county, so that he could look about him at his leisure, and not be obliged to post all the way from London every time he received an offer of some property which always turned out to be quite unsuitable. You may imagine how ready I was to accommodate him!’

  ‘Oh, yes, I can imagine that – and also that your brother had nothing to say in the matter!’

  ‘Well, he wasn’t of age then, but of course I did nothing without his consent. At first, he couldn’t like it: I think it wounded his pride. To own the truth, I didn’t like it either – but what could be more nonsensical than to cling to one’s consequence when one is living on a monkey’s allowance? It is still only by practising the strictest economy that we can keep out of debt, and until Mr Porth entered into a treaty for the house it was wholly out of my power to undertake this London venture. Even if I could broach my principal, which I am not permitted to do, I don’t think I should, for that would leave me dependent on poor Harry.’ She looked seriously across at his lordship. ‘That mustn’t be, you know. I don’t say it to him, because he is very young, and thinks that nothing could be more natural than for us all to continue at Graynard. But I shouldn’t be at all surprised if he wished to be married in a year or two. Only think how much his wife would dislike having his sisters planted at Graynard, and how uncomfortable it would be for us!’

  ‘Very true,’ he agreed. ‘If any female could be induced to marry him under such circumstances, which I strongly doubt.’

  Her gravity disappeared; she gave another of her chuckles. ‘She would be afraid that I should rule the roast, wouldn’t she? Which I probably should, because I’ve done so for so long, and habits are very hard to overcome. No: the best thing will be for Charis to contract a suitable marriage; and for the boys, and my aunt, and me, to set up an establishment of our own as soon as Harry becomes engaged. I made up my mind to that a long time ago. But the most pressing need is to provide for Charis! It seems to me to be positively wicked that anyone so beautiful should dwindle into an old maid! Which is what she would do, unless she married one of the dreadfully dull young men in our neighbourhood, who have been dangling after her this age; or, worse, some wholly ineligible creature, not worth a hair! It was that consideration which made me regard Mr Porth’s offer as a stroke of good fortune. Well, only think, sir! He hires only the house, and the Home farm, at a figure which I shouldn’t have dared to suggest to him; and the rest of the property, which is beginning to pull in the pieces again, remains in Harry’s possession, for, naturally, Mr Porth has no wish to be burdened with its management. And, which is of the first importance, it was of particular interest to him to hire, as well as the house, the servants, except our housekeeper, and our butler. That was another stroke of good fortune, because Mrs Hurley, and dear old Buddle, would never have consented to remain at Graynard in the employment of anyone but a Merriville. So we were able to bring them to London with us; and although they despise London, and are for ever telling me what a horrid house this is, and furnished in the most rubbishing style; and complaining that London servants are a chuck-farthing set, it is the greatest comfort to have them with us! And I must say,’ she added candidly, ‘it is a horrid house, and not situated, as I’ve discovered, in the modish part of town. Never having visited London, I asked my Aunt Scrabster to procure a furnished house for me. That was a mistake. She lives in Harley Street herself, and I find that this district is almost entirely inhabited by persons engaged in trade. However, I am told that the most extortionate rents are demanded for houses in Mayfair, besides fines upon entrance, so I don’t repine. The worst mistake I made was believing that my aunt had either the power or the desire to introduce us to the ton!’ She smiled. ‘My tongue runs like a fiddlestick, doesn’t it? The round tale is that my aunt and uncle, being childless, have never made any attempt to live in a – in a fashionable way; and poor Aunt Amelia was never more dismayed than when I informed her of my decision to come to London for the season! That, sir, is why I was forced to apply to you.’

  He had been meditatively tapping the lid of his snuff-box, and he now flicked it open, and, frowning slightly, took a pinch, while Frederica watched him, not unhopefully. He shut the box, dusted his long fingers, and at last looked at her, still frowning. ‘You would be well advised to be content with something less than the first circle of society,’ he said bluntly.

  ‘Are we so ineligible?’ she demanded.

  ‘By birth, no. In all other respects, yes. I don’t know what your pecuniary resources may be, but –’

  ‘Enough!’

  ‘If you are thinking of a Court presentation for your sister you would do better to fund your money: it’s an investment that would yield you no dividend.’

  ‘I know that, and I don’t think of it.’

  ‘What, then?’

  She clasped her hand together in her lap, and said, a little breathlessly: ‘Almack’s!’

  ‘You are aiming at the moon, Miss Merriville. No introduction of mine would help you to cross that hallowed threshold! Unless you number amongst your acquaintances some matron possessing the entrée, who would be willing to sponsor you –’

  ‘I don’t. If that had been the case I shouldn’t have sought your assistance. But I won’t cry craven! Somehow I shall manage – see if I don’t!’

  He rose politely, saying: ‘I hope you may. If you think my advice of value, may I suggest that you would have a better chance of success if you were to remove to one of the watering places? Bath, or Tunbridge Wells, where you may attend the assemblies, and would no doubt meet persons of consideration.’

  She too rose, but before she could answer him she was interrupted by the sound of hasty footsteps on the stairs. The next instant a sturdy schoolboy burst into the room, exclaiming: ‘Frederica, it was nothing but a fudge! We searched all over, and I asked people, and no one knew anything about it!’

  Four

  Miss Merriville, unperturbed by the irruption into her drawing-room of a young gentleman who had contrived to acquire, since she had last seen him some three hours earlier, a crumpled and grubby collar and muddied nankeens, responded with qui
ck sympathy: ‘Oh, no! How wretched for you! But it can’t have been a fudge, Felix! It was Mr Rushbury who told you about it, and he wouldn’t have hoaxed you!’

  By this time Master Felix Merriville had taken cursory stock of the Marquis, but he would undoubtedly have poured forth the story of his morning’s Odyssey to his sister had he not been quelled by another, and older, schoolboy, who, entering the room in his wake, severely adjured him to mind his manners. A large and shaggy dog, of indeterminate parentage, was at his heels; and just as he was apologising to Frederica for having come in when she was entertaining a visitor, this animal advanced with the utmost affability to greet the Marquis. His disposition was friendly, as he showed by the waving of his plumed tail; and his evident intention was to jump up at the guest. But Alverstoke, wise in the ways of dogs, preserved his face from being generously licked, and his exquisitely fashioned coat of Bath Superfine from being smirched by muddy paws, by catching the animal’s fore-arms, and holding him at bay. ‘Yes, good dog!’ he said. ‘I’m much obliged to you, but I don’t care to have my face licked!’

  ‘Down, Lufra!’ commanded Mr Jessamy Merriville, in even more severe accents. He added, with his sister’s absence of shyness: ‘I beg pardon, sir: I would not have brought him in if I had known that my sister was entertaining a visitor.’

  ‘Not at all: I like dogs,’ responded his lordship, reducing Lufra to abject slavery by running his fingers along the precise spot on the spine which that grateful hound was unable to scratch for himself. ‘What did you call him?’

  ‘Lufra, sir,’ said Jessamy, a dark flush rising to the roots of his hair. ‘At least, I never did so! It was a silly notion of my sisters’: I called him Wolf, when he was a puppy! But they would persist, so, in the end, he wouldn’t answer to his right name! And he is not a bitch!’

  Perceiving that his lordship had been carried out of his depth, Frederica explained the matter to him. ‘It’s from The Lady of the Lake,’ she told him. ‘I daresay you recall the passage, when the Monarch bade let loose a gallant stag? And Lufra – whom from Douglas side Nor bribe nor threat could e’er divide, The fleetest hound in all the North, Brave Lufra saw, and darted forth. She left the royal hounds midway, And dashing on the antler’d prey, Sunk her sharp muzzle in his flank –’

  ‘And deep the flowing life-blood drank!’ interpolated Felix, with relish.

  ‘Stow it!’ growled his senior. ‘It wasn’t a stag at all, sir – merely a young bull, which we had not thought to be dangerous! and as for drinking its life-blood – stuff!’

  ‘No, but you can’t deny that Luff saved you from being gored!’ said Frederica. She looked up at Alverstoke. ‘Only fancy! He was hardly more than a puppy, but he rushed in, and hung on to the bull’s muzzle, while Jessamy scrambled over the gate to safety! And I am very sure that not even the offer of a marrowbone could divide him from Jessamy, could it, dear Luff?’

  Gratified by this tribute, the faithful hound flattened his ears, wagged his tail, and, after uttering a yelp of encouragement, sat panting at her feet. His master, rendered acutely uncomfortable by this passage, would have removed himself, his dog, and his brother from the drawing-room if Frederica had not detained him, saying: ‘No, pray don’t run away! I wish to make you known to Lord Alverstoke! This is my brother Jessamy, sir, and this is Felix.’

  His lordship, acknowledging their bows, found that he was being surveyed: by Jessamy, whom he judged to be about sixteen years of age, measuringly; by Felix, three or four years younger, with the unwavering yet incurious gaze of childhood. He was quite unaccustomed to being weighed up; and there was a decided twinkle in his eyes as he looked the boys over.

  Jessamy, he thought, was an exaggerated copy of his sister: his hair was darker than hers, his nose more aquiline, and his mouth and chin determined to the point of obstinacy. Felix still retained the snub-nose and the chubbiness of extreme youth, but he had the same firm chin and direct gaze which characterised his seniors, and even less shyness. It was he who broke the silence, blurting out: ‘Sir! Do you know about the Catch-me-who-can?’

  ‘Of course he doesn’t! Don’t be so rag-mannered!’ his brother admonished him. ‘I beg your pardon, sir: he has windmills in his head!’

  ‘Not windmills: railway locomotives,’ replied Alverstoke. He looked down at Felix. ‘Isn’t that it? Some sort of steam-locomotive?’

  ‘Yes, that’s it!’ said Felix eagerly. ‘Trevithick’s, sir. I don’t mean the Puffing Devil: that ran on the road, but it caught fire, and was burnt.’

  ‘Ay! and a very good thing too!’ interjected Jessamy. ‘Steam-engines on the roads! Why, they would send every horse mad with terror!’

  ‘Oh, pooh! I daresay they would soon grow used to them. Besides, I’m not talking of that one. The one I mean runs on rails – at fifteen miles an hour, and very likely more!’ He turned his attention to Alverstoke again. ‘I know it was brought to London, because Mr Rushbury – my godfather – told me so, and how you could ride in it for a shilling. He said it was north of the New Road, and not far, he thought, from Montague House.’

  ‘I believe it was,’ said Alverstoke. ‘From some cause or another I never visited it, but I do seem to recall that the inventor – what did you say his name is?’

  ‘Trevithick! The first locomotive he made has five wagons, and it can carry ten tons of iron and seventy men, but only at five miles an hour. It’s in Wales – I forget the name of the place – but the one here has one carriage, and –’

  ‘Will you bite your tongue, you abominable little bagpipe?’ interrupted Jessamy. ‘Anyone would take you for a regular shabster, rattling on like that, and not allowing Lord Alverstoke to edge in a word!’

  Abashed by this rebuke, Felix hastily begged his lordship’s pardon; but Alverstoke, amused by him, said: ‘Nonsense! I can always edge in a word – when I wish to! There was such a locomotive, Felix, but I am afraid it’s a thing of the past. I rather think that Trevithick hired some ground, near Fitzroy Square, fenced it in, and laid down a circular track. As I recall, it created quite a stir, but although a great many people went to see it, few could be persuaded to ride in it – and none at all after a rail broke, and the engine overturned! So it had to be abandoned. It must have been quite ten years ago.’ He smiled, seeing the look of disappointment on Felix’s countenance. ‘I’m sorry! Are you so interested in locomotives?’

  ‘Yes – no – in engines!’ stammered Felix. ‘Steampower – c-compressed air – ! Sir, have you seen the pneumatic lift at that foundry in Soho?’

  ‘No,’ said his lordship. ‘Have you?’

  ‘They wouldn’t let me,’ replied Felix sadly. A thought occurred to him; and, fixing his ardent eyes on Alverstoke’s face, he asked, with pent breath: ‘If you wished to see it – could you?’

  Frederica, who had resumed her seat, said: ‘No, no, Felix! Lord Alverstoke does not wish to! You mustn’t plague him to take you there!’

  She was right: Alverstoke had not the remotest desire to inspect a pneumatic lift, but he found himself unable to resist the pleading look in the eyes raised so hopefully to his. He sat down again, smiling a little ruefully, and replied: ‘I expect I could. But you must tell me more about it!’

  At this, Jessamy, well-aware of what would be the outcome of such an invitation, directed an anguished glance at Frederica, but although her eyes twinkled responsively she made no attempt to silence her small brother.

  It might have been a task beyond her power. It was seldom that Felix met with encouragement to expatiate on a subject which few people understood, and most thought boring. His eyes brightening, he dragged up a chair, and tried to explain the principles governing pneumatic lifts. From there it was a small step to the pattern-shop engine, which was driven by air from the blowing-machine in the same foundry; and within a very short space of time Alverstoke was being battered by oscillating cylinders, piston-rods, cross-tails, valve-gears, and blast-pipes. Since Felix’s understanding of these mysteries was naturally
imperfect he was somewhat incoherent; and his thirst for knowledge led him to bombard Alverstoke with questions, few of which his lordship could answer satisfactorily. However, he had just enough grasp of the subject to enable him to avoid revolting Felix by posing counter-questions betraying the abysmal ignorance which, in that young gentleman’s opinion, rendered his brothers and sisters contemptible, and to promote him from the status of an irrelevant visitor to that of prime favourite. He was the most intelligent auditor Felix had encountered: a regular right one, who could even be pardoned for saying, apologetically: ‘You know, Felix, I know more about horses than engines!’

  This confession, dimming his lustre a trifle in Felix’s eyes, instantly raised him in Jessamy’s esteem. Jessamy demanded to know whether the turn-out he had noticed in the street, and which he described as having a lot of sort about it, belonged to his lordship; and, upon learning that it did, swept his junior aside, and engaged the Marquis in a discussion of the points to be looked for in prime carriage-horses.

  Had it been suggested to the Marquis that he should spend half-an-hour with two schoolboys, he would have excused himself without a moment’s hesitation. It was rarely that boredom did not overcome him in any company, but he was not bored. The only son of ceremonious parents, and the youngest of their progeny, he had no experience of family-life as it was enjoyed by the Merrivilles; and since his nephews, produced, when children, in their best clothes for his inspection, and warned of retribution if they did not mind their manners, had appeared to him to be as dull-witted as they were inarticulate, he was agreeably surprised by the young Merrivilles. His sisters might not have approved of their frank, easy ways, or of the total want of diffidence which they considered proper in schoolboys, but he thought them a well-mannered and refreshing pair, and encouraged them with a tolerance which would have astonished those who were best acquainted with him.

 

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