Page 28

Sprig Muslin Page 28

by Georgette Heyer


‘Neil!’ she cried, her eyes flying to his face, and widening in dismay. ‘Don’t – don’t you wish to marry me?’

‘That,’ said the Captain, ‘is another matter! Now, you come into the house, and make a clean breast of the whole, without any more excuses, or any of your make-believe nonsense!’

‘I wouldn’t! You know I wouldn’t!’ Amanda stammered flushing. ‘Not to you! Neil, you know I wouldn’t!’

‘It will be as well for you if you don’t,’ said the Captain, inexorably marching her off.

Hildebrand, watching with dropped jaw, turned his eyes towards Sir Gareth. ‘Well!’ he gasped. ‘She – went with him as meek as a nun’s hen! Amanda!’

It was some time before Captain Kendal emerged again from the house, and when at last he came striding through the orchard he was alone. Lady Hester, who had been sitting with Sir Gareth for some little while, blinked at him, and said: ‘Good gracious, Gareth, how very odd of Amanda! I quite thought he would be a heroic-looking young man, did not you?’

Captain Kendal, reaching them, bowed slightly to Hester, but addressed himself to Sir Gareth. ‘I hope you will accept my apologies, sir. I don’t know how to thank you enough. I got the whole story out of her, and you may be sure I’ve given her a rare dressing. You must have had the devil of a time with her!’

‘Nonsense!’ Sir Gareth said, holding out his hand.

The Captain gripped it painfully. ‘You didn’t handle her right, you know,’ he said. ‘She’s as good as gold, if you don’t give her her head. The mischief is that the General and Miss Summercourt have spoilt her to death, and as though that wasn’t enough, she’s been allowed to stuff her head with a lot of trashy novels. I can tell you, it fairly made my hair stand on end when I heard the stories she’s been making up! But the thing is that she hasn’t the ghost of a notion what they really mean. I daresay you know that. I hope you do!’

‘Of course I know it! My favourite is the one about the amorous widower – though I must own that the latest gem, in which Hildebrand is to play the leading rôle, has rare charm. Now you must let me introduce you to my natural sister, Lady Hester Theale!’

The Captain shook hands with Hester, saying seriously: ‘I am excessively sorry, ma’am, and I beg you will forgive her! I was never more shocked! I shall break her of these tricks, you may be sure, but in some ways she’s no more than a baby, which makes it devilish hard to explain to her why she mustn’t make up faradiddles about being compromised, and the rest of it.’

Lady Hester, casting a look of mild triumph at Sir Gareth, said: ‘I told you it would depend on what he was like, and I could see you didn’t believe me, only you perceive that I was right! Captain Kendal, don’t listen to anything that anybody may say to you, but just marry Amanda, and take her to Spain with you. It would be too bad if you did not, because she has been to a great deal of trouble over it, besides learning to wring chickens’ necks, and being exactly the sort of wife you ought to have, if you should happen to be wounded again.’

‘Well, I don’t want her to wring chickens’ necks – in fact, I won’t have her doing such things! – and I’d as lief not have her by, if I were to be hit again – though I’m glad she’d the sense to stop you bleeding to death, sir! – but, by Jupiter, ma’am, if you think that’s what I should do, I will do it!’ said the Captain, once more shaking her by the hand. ‘I’m very much obliged to you. It isn’t that I don’t know she’d do much better with me than with her grandfather, but she is very young, and I don’t want to take advantage of her. However, if you think it right, the General may go hang! Hallo! That sounds like his voice! Ay, here he comes – but who the devil has he got with him?’

Lady Hester, gazing in a petrified way at the three figures advancing towards her, said faintly: ‘Widmore and Mr Whyteleafe! Just when we were so comfortable!’

Eighteen

It was immediately apparent that although the three gentlemen bearing down upon the group under the apple-tree had arrived together at the Bull, this had not been through any choice of theirs. All were looking heated, and Lord Widmore was glaring so hard at Summercourt that it was not until Mr Whyteleafe ejaculated: ‘Sir Gareth Ludlow! Here – and with Lady Hester?’ that he became aware of the identity of the figure in the brocade dressing-gown. Since not even his wildest imaginings had pictured Hester in Sir Gareth’s company, he was so dumbfounded that he could only goggle at him. This gave the General an opportunity to step into the lead, and he was quick to pounce on it. Brushing past his lordship, and annihilating Mr Whyteleafe with the stare which had in earlier days turned the bones of his subordinates to water, he strode up to Sir Gareth’s chair, and said, in a sort of bark: ‘You will be good enough, sir, to grant me the favour of a private interview with you! When I tell you that my name is Summercourt – yes, Summercourt, sir! – I rather fancy that you will not think it marvellous that I have come all the way from London for the express purpose of seeking you out! I do not know – nor, I may add do I wish to know, who these persons may be,’ he said, casting an eye of loathing over Lord Widmore and the chaplain, ‘but I might have supposed that upon my informing them that I had urgent business to discuss here, common civility would have prompted them to postpone whatever may be their errand to you until my business was despatched! Let me say that these modern manners do not commend themselves to me – though I should have known how it would be, from a couple of cowhanded whipsters as little able to control a worn-out donkey as a pair of carriage-horses!’

‘It was not my chaplain, sir, who was driving down a narrow lane at what I do not scruple to call a shocking pace!’ said Widmore, firing up.

‘The place for a parson, I shall take leave to tell you, sir, is not on the box of a curricle, but in his pulpit!’ retorted the General. ‘And now, if you will be good enough to retire, I may perhaps be allowed to transact the business which has brought me here!’

Mr Whyteleafe, who had been staring at Hester with an expression on his face clearly indicative of the feelings of shock, dismay, and horror which had assailed him on seeing her thus, living, apparently, with her rejected suitor in a discreetly secluded spot, withdrew his gaze to direct an austere look at the General. The aspersion cast on his driving skill he disdained to notice, but he said, in a severe tone: ‘I venture to assert, sir, that the business which brings Lord Widmore and myself to call upon Sir Gareth Ludlow is sufficiently urgent to claim his instant attention. Moreover, I must remind you that our vehicle was the first to draw up at this hostelry!’

The General’s eyes started at him fiercely. ‘Ay! So it was, indeed! I am not very likely to forget it, Master Parson! Upon my soul, such effrontery I never before encountered!’

Lord Widmore, whose fretful nerves had by no means recovered from the shock of finding his curricle involved at the cross-road in a very minor collision with a post-chaise and four, began at once to prove to the General that no blame attached to his chaplain. As irritation always rendered him shrill, and the General’s voice retained much of its fine carrying quality, the ensuing altercation became noisy enough to cause Lady Hester to stiffen imperceptibly, and to lay one hand on the arm of Sir Gareth’s chair, as though for support. He was aware of her sudden tension, and covered her hand with his own, closing his fingers reassuringly round her wrist. ‘Don’t be afraid! This is all sound and fury,’ he said quietly.

She looked down at him, a smile wavering for a moment on her lips. ‘Oh, no! I am not afraid. It is only that I have a foolish dislike to loud, angry voices.’

‘Yes, very disagreeable,’ he agreed. ‘I must own, however, that I find this encounter excessively diverting. Kendal, do you care to wager any blunt on which of my engaging visitors first has private speech with me?’

The Captain, who had bent to catch these words, grinned, and said: ‘Oh, old Summercourt will bluster himself out, never fear! But who is the other fellow?’ r />
‘Lady Hester’s brother,’ replied Sir Gareth. He added, his eyes on Lord Widmore: ‘Bent, if I know him, on queering my game and his own!’

‘I beg pardon?’ the Captain said, bending again to hear what had been uttered in an undertone.

‘Nothing: I was talking to myself.’

Hester murmured: ‘Isn’t it odd that they should forget everything else, and quarrel about such a trifle?’ She seemed to become aware of the clasp on her wrist, and tried to draw her hand away. The clasp tightened, and she abandoned the attempt, colouring faintly.

Mr Whyteleafe, whose jealous eyes had not failed to mark the interlude, took a quick step forward, and commanded in a voice swelling with stern wrath: ‘Unhand her ladyship, sir!’

Hester blinked at him in surprise. Sir Gareth said, quite amiably: ‘Go to the devil!’

The chaplain’s words, which had been spoken in a sharpened voice, recalled the heated disputants to matters of more moment than a grazed panel. The quarrel ceased abruptly; and the General, turning to glare at Sir Gareth, seemed suddenly to become aware of the lady standing beside his chair. His brows twitched together in a quelling frown; he demanded: ‘Who is this lady?’

‘Never mind that!’ said Lord Widmore, directing at Sir Gareth a look of mingled prohibition and entreaty.

Sir Gareth met it blandly, and turned his head towards the General. ‘This lady, sir, is the Lady Hester Theale. She has the misfortune to be Lord Widmore’s sister, and also to dislike heated altercations.’

His lordship’s angry but incoherent protest was overborne by the General’s more powerful voice. ‘Have I been led here on a fool’s errand?’ he thundered. He rounded on Captain Kendal. ‘You young jackass, I told you to keep out of my affairs! I might have known you would lead me on a wild goose chase!’

Captain Kendal, quite undismayed by this ferocious attack, replied: ‘Yes, sir, in a way that’s what I have done. But all’s right, as I will explain to you, if you care to come into the house for a few minutes.’

A look of relief shot into the General’s eyes; in a far milder tone, he asked: ‘Neil, where is she?’

‘Here, sir. I sent her upstairs to wash her face,’ said the Captain.

‘Here? With this – this – And you tell me all’s right?’

‘I do, sir. You are very much obliged to Sir Gareth, as I shall show you.’

Before the General could reply, an interruption occurred. Amanda and Hildebrand, attracted by the sounds of the late altercation, had come out of the house, and had paused, surprised to find so many persons gathered around Sir Gareth. Amanda had washed away her tear stains, but she was looking unwontedly subdued. Hildebrand was carefully carrying a brimming glass of milk.

The General saw his granddaughter, and abandoned the rest of the company, going towards her with his hands held out. ‘Amanda! Oh, my pet, how could you do such a thing?’

She flew into his arms, crying that she was sorry, and would never, never do it again. The Captain, observing with satisfaction that his stern instructions were being obeyed, transferred his dispassionate gaze to the chaplain, who, upon recognizing Hildebrand, had flung out his arm, pointing a finger of doom at that astonished young gentleman, and ejaculating: ‘That is the rascal who lured Lady Hester to this place, my lord! Unhappy boy, you are found out! Do not seek to excuse yourself with lies, for they will not serve you!’

Hildebrand, who had been gazing at him with his mouth at half-cock, looked for guidance towards Sir Gareth, but before Sir Gareth could speak Mr Whyteleafe warned him that it was useless to try to shelter behind his employer.

‘Oh, Hildebrand, is that Uncle Gary’s milk?’ said Hester. ‘What a good, remembering boy you are! But I quite thought I had given the glass to Amanda, which just shows what a dreadful memory I have!’

‘Oh, you did, but she threw it away!’ replied Hildebrand. ‘Here you are, sir: I’m sorry I have been such an age, but it went out of my head.’

‘The only fault I have to find is that it ever re-entered your head,’ said Sir Gareth. ‘Is this a moment for glasses of milk? Take it away!’

‘No, pray don’t! Gareth, Dr Chantry said that you were to drink a great deal of milk, and I won’t have you throw it away merely because all these absurd people are teasing you!’ said Hester, taking the glass from Hildebrand. ‘And Sir Gareth is not Mr Ross’s employer!’ she informed the chaplain. ‘Of course, my brother-in-law isn’t his employer either, but never mind! It was quite my fault that he was obliged to be not perfectly truthful to you.’

‘Lady Hester, I am appalled! I know not by what means you were brought to this place –’

‘Hildebrand fetched me in a post-chaise. Now, Gareth!’

‘You misunderstand me! Aware as I am, that Sir Gareth’s offer was repugnant to you, I cannot doubt that you were lured from Brancaster by some artifice. What arts – I shall not say threats! – have been used to compel your apparent complaisance today I may perhaps guess! But let me assure you –’

‘That will do!’ interrupted Sir Gareth, with an edge to his voice.

‘Yes, but this is nothing but humdudgeon!’ said Hildebrand. ‘I didn’t lure her! I just brought her here because Uncle Gary – Sir Gareth, I mean – needed her! She came to look after him, and we pretended she was his sister, so you may stop looking censoriously, which, though I don’t mean to be uncivil to a clergyman, is a great piece of impertinence! And as for threatening her, I should just like to see anyone try it, that’s all!’

‘Oh, Hildebrand!’ sighed Hester, overcome. ‘How very kind you are!’

‘Good boy!’ Sir Gareth said approvingly, handing him the empty glass. ‘Widmore, if you can contrive to come out of a state of what would appear to be a catalepsy, assemble the few wits God gave you, and attend to me, I trust I may be able to allay your brotherly anxiety!’

Lord Widmore, who, from the moment of Amanda’s arrival on the scene, had been standing in a spellbound condition, gave a start, and stammered: ‘How is this? Upon my soul! I do not know what to think! This goes beyond all bounds! That is the girl you had the effrontery to bring to Brancaster! So it was to take her to those relations of hers at Oundle, was it, that you went chasing after my uncle? Not that I believed it! I hope I am not such a gull!’

‘That girl, sir,’ said Captain Kendal, dropping a restraining hand on Sir Gareth’s shoulder, and keeping his penetrating eyes on Lord Widmore’s face, ‘is Miss Summercourt. She is shortly to become my wife, so if you have any further observations to make on this head, you may address them to me!’

‘Widmore, do try not to be so silly!’ begged Hester. ‘I can’t think how you can have so little commonsense! It is quite true that I came here to nurse Gareth, for he had had a very serious accident, and nearly died; but also I came to be a chaperon for Amanda – not that there was the least need of such a thing, when she was in Gareth’s charge, but although I have not a great deal of sense myself I do know that persons like you would think so. And I must say, Widmore, that it is very lowering to be so closely related to anyone with such a dreadfully commonplace mind as you have!’

He was so much taken aback by this unprecedented assault that he could find nothing to say. Amanda, who had poured the tale of her odyssey into her grandsire’s ears, seized the opportunity to address him. ‘Oh, Lord Widmore, pray excuse me for having been so uncivil as to run away with your uncle without taking leave of you and Lady Widmore and Lord Brancaster, or saying thank you for a very pleasant visit! And, please, Uncle Gary, forgive me for having been troublesome, and uncivil, and telling people you were abducting me, which Neil says you didn’t, though I must say it is abducting, when you force people to go with you. However, I am truly grateful to you for having been so kind, and letting me have Joseph. And Aunt Hester too. And now I have begged everybody’s pardon, except Hildebrand’s,’ she contin
ued, without the smallest pause, ‘so, please, Neil, don’t be vexed with me any more!’

‘That’s a good girl,’ said her betrothed, putting his arm round her, and giving her a slight hug.

‘Amanda!’ said the General sharply, as she rubbed her cheek against Captain Kendal’s arm. ‘Come here, child!’

The Captain released her, and her grandfather bade her run away and pack her boxes. She looked mutinous, but Captain Kendal endorsed the command, upon which she sighed, and went with lagging steps into the house.

‘Now, sir!’ said the General, turning to Sir Gareth. ‘I am satisfied that you have behaved like a man of honour to my granddaughter, and I will add that I am grateful to you for your care of her. But although I do not say that you are to blame for it, this has been a bad business – a very bad business! Should it become known that my granddaughter has been for nearly three weeks living under your protection, as I cannot doubt it will, since so many persons are aware of this circumstance, the damage to her reputation would be such as to –’

‘Dear me, didn’t she tell you that I have been here all the time?’ enquired Lady Hester.

‘Ma’am,’ said the General, ‘you were not with her at Kimbolton!’

‘I beg pardon, sir,’ put in Hildebrand diffidently, ‘but nobody saw her there but me, except the servants, of course, and they didn’t think anything but that she was Uncle Gary’s ward. Well, I thought she was, too!’

‘What you thought, young man,’ said the General crushingly, ‘is of no value! Be good enough not to interrupt me again! Ludlow, I am persuaded that I shall not find it necessary to urge you to adopt the only course open to a man of honour! You know the world: it has been impossible to keep my granddaughter’s disappearance from her home a secret from my neighbours. I am not so simple as to suppose that conjecture is not rife amongst them! Or, let me add, that your zeal in pursuing her sprang merely from altruistic motives! She is young, and I do not deny that she has some foolish fancies in her head, but I don’t doubt that a man of your address would very speedily succeed in engaging her affections.’