‘I am quite real,’ said Miss Frostell.
‘I see that you are. But how came you to be here?’
‘Why, I came after you, of course. Lady Honoria observed what happened to you, and raised the alarm, and after that it was no very difficult task to trace the passage of the Maundevyle coach. Though we were delayed in setting off. By some unaccountable accident, all the wheels had come off our carriage, and the repairs were not speedily accomplished.’
Gussie thought of Clarissa at once. It would suit her idea of high adventure and conscienceless mischief, to discourage any possibility of pursuit. Not that Gussie had had any idea of there being any. ‘You mean to say you came all this way alone?’ she cried. ‘Across half the country?’
‘No, not alone. Your great-aunt Honoria is downstairs, and Lord Bedgberry. I believe he and Mr. Selwyn must possess some prior acquaintance, for they did not greet each other with any very marked friendliness.’
‘Theo declared him to be detestable,’ Gussie confirmed. ‘I have never heard what Mr. Selwyn’s sentiments might be towards Theo, but I collect it is mutual.’ She looked about for her gown and stays, but could not remember where she had deposited them the night before. ‘Did Great-Aunt Honoria come? I am astonished. I never thought it likely she would leave the Towers.’
‘Or Lord Bedgberry, either,’ said Miss Frostell drily. ‘And he is not half sour about it, I can tell you.’
‘I am sure he is perfectly savage,’ Gussie agreed. ‘But then he need not have come. What can he have meant by haring after me in this fashion? Quite as though I were not fully capable of managing my own affairs.’
‘The circumstances were unusual, you must own,’ said Miss Frostell.
‘We are Werths,’ said Gussie. ‘The merely unusual comes as a matter of course.’
‘I shall leave you to dress,’ said Miss Frostell, rising from her chair. ‘I came up to help you with your packing, but I see I am too precipitate. The horses must be rested a while before we can depart, of course, so all of that may be done later.’
‘But we are not departing just yet, Frosty,’ said Gussie, espying her gown thrown in a disgracefully untidy heap over the silver-gilded dresser, and her stays on the floor beneath. ‘Lord Maundevyle has already offered to send me home, and I declined, for I am not at all ready to leave.’
‘I know you wanted to accept Lady Maundevyle’s invitation,’ said Miss Frostell. ‘But surely there can be no call to remain here upon such disgraceful terms?’
‘But I remain here upon excellent terms. The manner of my arrival notwithstanding, I have been treated with the greatest kindness. So great, dear Frosty, that I am persuaded some powerful motive must lie behind it, and until I have uncovered what it is, I must beg you not to carry me off again.’
Miss Frostell only sighed, being accustomed to Gussie’s stubbornness, when once she had got hold of an idea. ‘I shall tell his lordship,’ she said, and took herself and her tea-cup out of the room forthwith.
Gussie was not afraid of encountering much opposition from Theo. He did not like to be away from Werth Towers, this was true, but she had only to show him the library at Starminster to reconcile him to the prospect of a short stay. Once absorbed in a book, he would quickly grow oblivious to every other consideration.
And seeing as Starminster turned out to have such a long history of Wyrded ancestors, she did not imagine the current inhabitants would be too much discomposed by Theo’s peculiarities, either. Really, it was all quite perfect.
Gussie made herself respectable as quickly as she could, and hurried downstairs to enact her plan upon Theo’s peace with brutal alacrity.
She found Lord Bedgberry standing in the hall, surrounded by Selwyns. Miss Selwyn had been the first to accost him, Gussie judged, but her brothers had not been far behind. Clarissa might be said to be doing her best to be fascinating; she seemed turned from her usual brash self to an adorable, kittenish creature, quite overcome by the excitement of Lord Bedgberry’s presence. Theo was patently more interested in Mr. Selwyn, who was prudently stationed behind his sister, and regarding their unscheduled visitor with a satirical eye. Lord Maundevyle stood near the door, watching the proceedings with a quiet intensity, though without seeming minded to interfere.
The air crackled with animosity, and Gussie perceived that Theo and Charles might easily come to blows if she did not intervene.
‘Theo!’ she said, sweeping into the hall with Miss Frostell at her heels. ‘What can you mean by coming so far? And without an invitation!’
‘You did not precisely receive an invitation, cousin,’ Theo said curtly, and without taking his eyes off Charles.
‘Why, but I did.’
‘And declined it, did you not? But a lady’s wishes count for nothing with some.’
‘Yes, and another time I will hope not to be bodily picked up, and thrown into a coach without so much as a by-your-leave. But since it has all turned out for the best, you need not trouble yourself about it. Has my aunt Werth received my letter?’
‘I doubt it,’ said Theo. ‘She was in no state to receive much of anything, when I left.’
Gussie, who knew perfectly well what that meant, winced. ‘Was it news of me that did it? How inconvenient for Aunt Werth. And, for that matter, for me. Clarissa, please,’ she added, as Miss Selwyn began, in a loud voice, to compliment Theo’s dress. ‘This is hardly the time.’
Clarissa cast her an anguished look, which Gussie, rather to her confusion, took to mean that she was dying of love for Lord Bedgberry and quite wounded by her bosom friend’s lack of support.
Play-acting, Gussie perceived. Clarissa did seem addicted to the art, and no one could genuinely languish away over her awkward and dishevelled cousin.
Having thus dismissed Theo from all possible notice, Gussie said: ‘Do say you will go away again, cousin? As you perceive, I am unharmed, and quite in my element.’
‘Do not say you are determined to be rid of me, as well?’ murmured Miss Frostell beside her.
‘Never,’ said Gussie. ‘Though I do not think it precisely necessary for you to have come here, either.’
‘Cruelty, thy name is Augusta,’ said Theo. ‘The devotion of her loyal companion means nothing to her.’
‘Nothing at all, today,’ Gussie agreed. ‘Tomorrow I daresay I may think differently.’ She pressed Miss Frostell’s hand as she spoke, for really she was touched by her retiring governess’s daring ride to the rescue. Why, she had volunteered herself to be closeted with Lord Bedgberry and Great-Aunt Honoria. For days!
The said Lord Bedgberry, plagued by the beseeching regard of Gussie on the one hand, and Miss Frostell’s calm certainty that he would instead do as she wished, knew not how to reconcile these competing claims, and retired into a distracted silence.
Gussie noted the way his attention lingered upon Clarissa. Clarissa noticed it, too, and preened; but Gussie did not imagine the girl understood the real reason behind his lordship’s regard.
‘Cousin, have you… breakfasted?’ she said hastily.
Theo did not look away from Clarissa. ‘No.’
‘All the more reason to take your leave at once!’ she proclaimed. ‘Miss Frostell, I believe you must by now be familiar with my cousin’s requirements. May I leave him in your capable care?’
Miss Frostell responded with a glare. ‘And leave you here, I take it?’
Gussie smoothed her gown. ‘I shall do very well here.’
‘There is not the slightest need for anyone to leave,’ said Lord Maundevyle unexpectedly, rousing himself from whatever silent study had hitherto occupied him. ‘I have no doubt that my mother will be pleased to extend Miss Werth’s invitation to include her cousin and her companion, and naturally I shall not oppose her wishes.’
This was not quite the same thing as a hearty declaration of welcome, but Gussie perceived that Miss Frostell was perfectly willing to take it as such.
Theo’s fixation upon Miss Selwyn did not abate.<
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‘Lord Bedgberry and Miss Frostell will find ample refreshment laid out in the dining room,’ added Lord Maundevyle.
Gussie exchanged a look with Miss Frostell. ‘Ah,’ said Gussie. ‘I believe my cousin would prefer to take a turn about the gardens. Would not you, Theo?’ Upon which words, she advanced upon Lord Bedgberry and bodily shoved him towards the doors. Halfway there, he blinked and shook himself, as though surfacing from a trance.
‘Get you gone, Theo,’ Gussie hissed. ‘Or you know you will disgrace yourself.’
‘But—’ said Lord Bedgberry.
Gussie expelled him from the house via the expedient of one final, hearty shove. ‘Miss Selwyn is supremely irritating, I grant you,’ she said, a trifle breathless from her exertions. ‘But she is not to be breakfast.’
Theo sighed, and turned away.
‘I sincerely hope you did not avail yourself of Miss Frostell, either!’ Gussie called after him. She had surreptitiously surveyed Miss Frostell for signs of interference, and had, to her relief, perceived none.
His lordship did not dignify this parting sally with a response, and disappeared into the sunlit garden without a word.
Gussie spared a brief moment’s sympathy for any unwary creatures that might be ambling about Lady Maundevyle’s shrubbery, before dismissing the matter from her mind.
She returned into the hall to find Miss Frostell departing in the direction of breakfast, under Lord Maundevyle’s escort. To her mild unease, there was no sign of either Mr. or Miss Selwyn. She hoped they had not taken it upon themselves to pursue Lord Bedgberry into the shrubbery.
But, that was Theo’s lookout. Gussie could not be expected to solve every problem single-handed, especially not when she was so ferociously hungry. Dismissing Lord Bedgberry and the Selwyns from her further notice, she followed Miss Frostell in to breakfast.
***
Theo was halfway through a fresh rabbit when he discovered himself to be under surveillance.
It must be Miss Selwyn. She had shown tiresome signs of wanting to attach herself to him, despite his attempts to glower her out of her fancy, and he imagined her both bold and shameless enough to follow him out into the gardens.
It was a pity she had found him. He ought to have gone farther away from the house before he caught his breakfast; he had known it at the time, but the creature had darted into his path as though sent for the express purpose of quenching his appetite, and hunger had defeated him. Really, it was tiresome in the extreme to have to catch one’s own food. He did not at all understand why coaching inns did not offer an alternate menu of fresher fare, nor why the dining-parlours of the great and wealthy were devoid of such accommodations.
Miss Frostell had attempted to defend all these disparate souls with a singular argument. ‘Why, the trouble is that you are unique, my lord,’ she had said, some way through one of the interminable days of their journey hither. ‘If there is another man or woman in England with your particular dietary interests, I should be surprised.’
The reflection offered Theo no comfort at all, and only depressed him, so he did not think of it much.
He stood on the far side of an immaculate shrubbery, a wide lawn opening at his back, crimson droplets pouring down his chin and the limp corpse of his breakfast clutched in both hands. A compromising situation, but Theo felt no personal sense of shame. If Miss Selwyn did not like it, she and her witless relatives ought not to have made off with Gussie.
But it was not Miss Selwyn. When a pair of laurel bushes parted and the figure of Charles Selwyn appeared, Theo began to wish rather that it had been the sister after all. She at least seemed disposed to approve of him, however absurdly and without cause.
Charles had no such positive feelings. He regarded the vision of a bloodied and feasting Lord Bedgberry with distaste, and stopped several feet away, as though unwilling to taint himself by a nearer proximity. ‘I did try to dissuade Mama from this mad plan of hers,’ he said, his conversational tone at odds with his demeanour of icy disapproval. ‘No good can come of mixing with the Werths, and so I told her. But she is used to command, and my brother did not exert himself to oppose her.’
Theo did not immediately lower his breakfast. He rather amused himself by taking another lingering bite, relishing in the ensuing spurt of blood. Only when he felt himself reasonably replete did he set the small corpse aside, like a man pushing away his emptied plate, and smiled at the infuriating Charles Selwyn.
The man gratified him with a grimace, even a flicker of fear, and he took a small step back.
His cravat being somewhat disarranged, Theo neatened it, aware that he was thus transferring the blood from his fingers onto the snowy white linen. ‘And what is the “mad plan”?’ he said. ‘I remain determined to escort my cousin out of here, before the morning is gone.’
‘You may do so with my goodwill,’ said Charles. ‘I should think it wiser. But you will not so easily gainsay Mama. No, not even you,’ and he grimaced afresh at the sight of Lord Bedgberry’s bloodied linens.
He did not seem either shocked or horrified, which interested Theo, accustomed as he was to such reactions. From this, he concluded that the inhabitants of Starminster were better informed as to the Werths and their Wyrde than most.
What did they imagine they knew about Gussie, that might explain their behaviour?
‘And how long does her ladyship mean to keep Miss Werth?’ said Theo. ‘Is she never to be released back to the Towers?’
‘Oh, not much past tonight, I imagine,’ said Charles carelessly. ‘Once the ball is over, there can be scant reason to want her, for either Mama’s point will be gained, or it will be apparent that she is to be disappointed.’
Theo did not waste his time enquiring again into the nature of “Mama’s point”. It was evident that Charles meant to goad, and was being evasive on purpose. Theo would not gratify him by pressing for an answer.
Still, the situation irritated him immensely. He did not doubt his ability to gainsay Lady Maundevyle, if he so chose, regardless of Mr. Selwyn’s words; he had methods at his disposal that had never failed to carry his own point, whenever he chose to employ them.
But Gussie, now, that was a different problem. For if she did not choose to leave, could he compel her? Yes, without a doubt; but would he? For if he had so condemned the Selwyns for hauling her off without her leave, what right had he to do the same? He was not, after all, her father, or her husband. His authority over her did not extend so far.
Besides, Gussie might herself possess no particular Wyrde, but she had other powers. Not the least of them being the ability to make the journey home deeply miserable, were she displeased.
Theo resigned himself to an overnight stay and a forced attendance at a ball he would much rather miss. He need not do more than put in a courtesy appearance, however; the rest of the event would be better spent in a long ramble over the grounds, for the night-hours were ever more productive for hunting.
And then he, his cousin and Miss Frostell would depart bright and early upon the morrow.
Reassured upon all these points, Theo abandoned Charles Selwyn without a syllable, and stalked away towards the house. His appetite being, for the present, sated, he ought to make some small effort to keep Gussie in some kind of order, before she created some manner of incident at Starminster. His mother would have a great deal to say to him, if he did not.
As he passed under the lintel of the great front doors, the scrape of stone met his ears, and a grinding voice said: ‘I should not myself favour hair-powder above a plain, cropped head, only it does cover all manner of sins.’
Theo gave a sigh. ‘Thank you, Silvester, that is a great help.’
Chapter Ten
Gussie was far more fond of Great-Aunt Honoria than the lady’s abrupt manners and unprepossessing appearance might strictly warrant. However, she did rather wish her esteemed ancestor would contrive to control her mischievous impulses a little better.
Breakfast pro
ceeded at a docile pace and in a serene silence, Miss Frostell choosing to devote herself to the benefits of toast and coffee, declining for the moment to harangue Gussie any further about a prompt departure. Lord Maundevyle, as appeared to be his habit, was taciturn. Gussie, regarding him thoughtfully over her own repast, did not find his silence forbidding. Rather, he had an air of abstraction — coupled, admittedly, with a supreme indifference to company — that suggested his mind was simply elsewhere.
‘And what are we to expect at tonight’s ball, my lord?’ said Gussie after a while.
Lord Maundevyle looked up, blinking, as though surprised at hearing anyone speak. He did not appear displeased by the question, and might even have answered it, had not Great-Aunt Honoria chosen that moment to manifest above his lordship’s plate. She refrained from streaming blood, to Gussie’s relief; her neck-wound was quite dry; but the ghoulish expression she favoured on such occasions was more than enough to disconcert even the calmest of men. Gussie had seen it happen, more than once.
His lordship did give a start, spilling his chocolate. He stared at the severed head before him (Gussie had never been able to determine whether Honoria was a spectre, exactly, or whether she was simply not more than half dead), and he was observed to swallow down a cry, perhaps, of revulsion.
Then he said: ‘Good morning, Lady Honoria. You do not find anything to your liking?’ And he gestured at the array of breakfast-dishes, unruffled and undeterred.
Great-Aunt Honoria cackled. ‘It is as well,’ she said. ‘Any man who has care of my great-nieces and nephews ought to have a strong stomach.’
With which pronouncement she whisked away to the window, and faded through it into the golden morning beyond.
The ensuing silence was broken, after a few moments, by Lord Maundevyle. ‘I wonder what she was like in life?’ Gussie was almost sure she perceived his mouth twitching, as with suppressed amusement.
‘Much the same, I understand,’ said Gussie. ‘How she contrived to detach her head from her neck with such ease, or to restore it afterwards, was beyond anybody’s comprehension. And there has never been another Werth with quite such a Wyrde, that I recall.’
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