A London Season (7 page)

“I wish you wouldn
’
t feel constrained to call it anything at all!” said Elinor, with spirit. Sir Edmund silently applauded her. “It
is
in the past, you know!”

“It is not, however, the kind of thing that can be forgotten!” pronounced the clergyman sternly. “Oh, dear me, dear me, no! A young woman
’
s good name, once sullied
but enough of that!” he added rather hastily, seeing a dangerous flash in Miss Radley
’
s eye. “Where, I ask, will you obtain a post? I shudder, I repeat I shudder to think what might become of you! I cannot, I must not, I will not permit it! My conscience would not allow of such a thing! Sir Edmund here will, I am persuaded, lend me his support in dissuading you from your ill-advised intention of attempting to obtain paid employment of a respectable nature, doomed to failure as such an attempt must be!”

“Then,” said Elinor, her patience cracking, “I shall just have to attempt to find work which is
not
of a respectable nature, shan
’
t I? And you will have all the satisfaction of being able to say it is exactly what you expected!”

She regretted this little outburst the moment the words were out of her mouth, but had not much time to rue her lack of self-control, since Sir Edmund, his sympathy growing in proportion to her evident distress, had decided it was time he took a hand in bringing this scene to an end.

“No,
Mr.
Spalding,” he remarked, “I
’
m afraid I can
’
t in all conscience join you in wishing Miss Radley not to accept a position! I
’
m sure your concern for her welfare does you credit, but you will see that you may set your mind at rest when I tell you that, at the very moment when you called, I was doing my best to induce her to accompany me to London.”

In the ensuing silence, Elinor gave a small gasp of shock and surprise, while Persephone supplied musical commentary in the form of a dazzling series of voice exercises.

“You, sir?
Mr.
Spalding
’
s naturally protuberant eyes appeared to be on the point of popping right out of his head. “
You
? Well! You amaze me. I must say you amaze me! Elinor, going to London with you?”

“Yes: to undertake the charge of my ward, Miss
Persephone Grafton, whom you can hear singing in there,” said Sir Edmund frostily, not at all caring for the suggestion of a leer which he fancied he saw begin to creep over the other man
’
s face. “From my point of view, it all falls out most fortunately. I urgently require a companion and chaperon for the child, since my sister Viscountess Yoxford, to whose house in Upper Brook Street I am taking her, is in delicate health. And here is Miss Radley, precisely the lady I would have wished to find for that position, about to seek a situation on her own account! Moreover,” he said, rather enjoying himself as he tried to vie with the clergyman in unctuousness, “the fact of our being connected, however distantly, through Lady Emberley makes the arrangement quite particularly suitable for all parties concerned, doesn
’
t it, Cousin Elinor?” he inquired, bending his very blue gaze on Miss Radley.

The expressions of amazement, amusement and relief rapidly chasing one another over her face as she appreciated the adroitness with which he was extricating her from her predicament were, he thought, a joy to behold. In a moment, voice quivering only very slightly, she responded demurely, “Y-yes, Sir Edmund. Thank you: it is all just as you say.”

“You are going to
London
?” exclaimed
Mr.
Spalding again, as his mind, not naturally quick, laboured to take in all the implications of what he had heard. “To Lady Yoxford
’
s? To Upper Brook Street? As chaperon to Miss Grafton? But surely that would mean going into Society!”

“You doubt, sir, that my sister has the
entree
to Society?” inquired Sir Edmund.

His assumption of an air of well-bred hauteur cast
Mr.
Spalding into confusion. “No
—
no, Sir Edmund, to be sure! I mean yes! I mean, of course not
—
that is, I don
’
t doubt it! Well, upon my word! But
—
but take, for example, Almack
’
s!” He turned to Miss Radley as he uttered the name of this most exclusive of all social meeting places in the metropolis, as if producing an irrefutable argument. “Acceptance
there
...
how will you contrive?”

“Without the least difficulty,” Sir Edmund answered for her, still with the air of one patiently, but with boredom, elucidating the obvious. “I believe my sister Isabella is acquainted with most of the Lady Patronesses, probably all of them, and in any case, I have only to drop a word in Emily Cowper
’
s ear myself. I am tolerably well acquainted with Lady Cowper through her brother Frederick, you understand,” he added, addressing himself to Miss Radley. “I was for a while in the city of Munich, when Fred Lamb was British Minister there.”

“W-were you indeed, sir?” breathed Elinor, fascinated as well as amused by the part Sir Edmund had chosen to play.

“But,” put in
Mr.
Spalding, almost querulously, “you can
’
t go into Society, Elinor! What would people say? Can it be
—I
ask myself, can it be
—
that you have not revealed all to Sir Edmund? That you were proposing to perpetrate a deception
—
to enter Lady Yoxford
’
s household under false pretences? I am amazed
—
I say again, I am amazed! I am disappointed in you! I ask myself
—
I repeat, I ask myself
—
can this thing be?”

Cast into the greatest confusion herself by these utterances, Elinor could not help glancing hopefully at Sir Edmund, who was proving such an unlooked-for tower of strength, and indeed he was already coming to her aid again.

“You repeat yourself a good deal too much, sir, if I may say so,” he told
Mr.
Spalding crisply. “If it is any of your business, which I take leave to doubt, let me assure you that I am entirely in Miss Radley
’
s confidence. The matter to which you refer,” he added haughtily, without any idea of what they were discussing, “is not of the smallest consequence. In agreeing to chaperon my ward, Miss Radley is doing me and my sister a very great favour. And now, sir, I am in some haste to complete my business in this town and make arrangements for our journey on to London.”

Sir Edmund
’
s manner made it very plain that he meant the clergyman rather than himself to take his leave, and
Mr.
Spalding, mesmerized by that suddenly chilly blue stare, found that he could only open and shut his mouth once or twice, temporarily unable to utter a word. But at last, turning to look at Elinor with a certain new respect, he managed to say, “Well! Upon my word! This is an odd start
but then,” he hastened to add, “one can never know, of course, just what is the thing in Society. Although
—
but no, I will say no more upon that head!”

“Good,” interjected Sir Edmund, who was rapidly tiring of
Mr.
Spalding and hoped he would say no more on any other head, either. But the rejected suitor, his powers of speech recovered, proceeded undeterred.

“If you are to be countenanced by Sir Edmund
—
by Lord and Lady Yoxford
—
by Lady Cowper
...
Well, my dear Elinor, I venture to believe that you will continue to bear in mind dear Lady Emberley
’
s express wishes concerning our future union! Once your services are no longer required by Miss Grafton, I fancy you will wish to reconsider the advantages of a respectable marri
a
ge! Sir Edmund, should I find myself in London, I shall take the liberty of calling in Upper Brook Street
—
yes, indeed I shall!”

And with this, and another hearty and protracted shake of Sir Edmund
’
s hand, he at last left the room.

Recovering from her stunned silence, Elinor said faintly, “W-well! Was ever anything so
mortifying
?” But the unsteadiness of her voice was mostly due to amusement, and resting her elbows on the desk and laying her head on her clasped hands, she gave way to peals of laughter.

“Or diverting!” said Sir Edmund, at long last able to give rein to his own mirth. When he could speak again for laughing, he inquired, “Good God, can my deplorable old Cousin Sophronia really have intended you to marry that
—
that ecclesiastical stockfish?”

“Oh, dear me, yes!” Elinor told him, wiping the tears of amusement from her eyes. “You see, she thought it just the way to provide for me, and to that end she left
Mr.
Spalding some money
—
”

“Which I observe he has no scruples in accepting!”

“No, why should he? It was meant, I own, as a kind of
—
well, a dowry, and you must admit a generous one, but nobody actually said so. However, I could not like the notion
—
”

“I should think not!”

“I did try to be grateful. I even wondered, for a little while, whether it would do.
Mr.
Spalding really is an estimable man, you know, and one ought to appreciate him at his true worth, only
—
only he appreciates it so well himself, that it somehow seems superfluous for a wife or anyone else to do so too. He
could
not believe that it was not merely out of consideration for Lady Emberley I refused to regard the engagement as a settled thing. And though you might not think it, I have
often
tried to convince him of that. Well! I can only say, Sir Edmund, that I am heartily grateful to you for coming to my rescue with that tall tale of yours. You did it quite beautifully.”

“Tall tale?” said he. “I hope it will be no such thing, Cousin Elinor.”

A flush again stained her cheeks as she stared blankly at him, quite bewildered.

“I see I am going too fast
—
too fast for you, that is, but your suitor led me, hopefully, to anticipate. May I in all seriousness beg you to consider the idea of coming to London to look after young Persephone? I
was
just going to put the suggestion to you, you know, when the good
Mr.
Spalding insisted on interrupting us.”

“W-were you?” said Elinor faintly, feeling as if the ground were not quite steady beneath her feet.

“Indeed I was. I
do
urgently require a lady to chaperon Persephone
—
and I warn you, it could be an arduous task. As I
’
ve discovered, she can be a very headstrong child, and it was thus with some trepidation that I was about to put my request.”

Looking at Sir Edmund, Elinor could not believe that he had ever felt trepidation in his life. “But
—
but this is ridiculous!” she managed to say.

“Why? It is all just as I told
Mr.
Spalding, Cousin Elinor
—
I have ulterior motives in claiming our relationship, you see. Who could possibly be better than a cousin to help my sister with the problems of Persephone
’
s come-out? Problems like
that
,”
he added reflectively, as Persephone
’
s voice soared up again, unleashed from all restraint, in a passionately felt lyric of what he fancied was very modern composition.

“Yes,” Miss Radley soberly agreed. “Such a very marked talent
—
how wicked it would be to thwart it! And yet, I do see that it may make life more difficult for her.”

“I knew you would. At least you
’
re under no illusions! What
’
s more, the child took to you at once, you can
’
t deny that. So
will
you take her on
?
”

“Oh, I should like it of all things!” Elinor could not help exclaiming. The dazzling prospect so incredibly opening out before her of escape from her life at Cheltenham
—
not into the servitude of a governess
’
s lot, but to a London Season in the lively company of Miss Persephone Grafton
—
quite took her breath away. In a moment, however, she forced herself to say resolutely, “Only
—
only it won
’
t answer, sir, truly it won
’
t!” She took a deep breath, and continued, with some difficulty, “Didn
’
t you hear what
Mr.
Spalding was saying? About the impropriety of my applying for a governess
’
s post?”

The visible effort it cost her to bring out these words was not lost on Sir Edmund. Naturally he had heard
Mr.
Spalding
’
s remarks, and had been first mildly intrigued and then, as the clergyman insisted on dwelling on what was plainly a painful subject, and he observed Miss Radley
’
s distress, decidedly indignant on her behalf. He therefore said lightly, “Yes, and I never heard such stuff in my life. The fellow talks fustian, and is very ill-bred too. I do beg, Cousin Elinor, that you won
’
t refine too much upon anything
he
may say!”