Charity Girl (15 page)

Read Charity Girl Online

Authors: Georgette Heyer

BOOK: Charity Girl
9.25Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
   It was small wonder that she should blossom under such treatment, and think no task too laborious or too irksome to be performed for so amiable a benefactress. She had never been so happy in her life; and Henrietta, realizing this, forbore to inter vene. She did, however, drop a gentle hint in Cherry's ear that Lady Silverdale's disposition was a trifle uncertain, and depended largely on how she happened to be feeling, the state of the weather, or the shortcomings of her domestic staff. It was by no means unknown for her to take sudden dislikes to persons whom she had previously, and just as suddenly, taken into the warmest favour; and while such capricious fits seldom lasted for very long they made life extremely uncomfortable for their victim.
   Cherry listened to this, and nodded wisely, saying that old Lady Bugle had been subject to just such distempered freaks. 'Only her crotchets were worse, because she wasn't at all kind, or amiable, even at her best, which dear Lady Silverdale
is
! Indeed, I think she and you are the kindest people I have ever met!'
   This was said with a glowing look. Henrietta could only hope that her parent's sunny mood would outlast Cherry's visit.
   It was three days before Sir Charles Silverdale was allowed to leave his bedchamber, and it was plain to his mother and his sister that he was much more shaken by his accident than he would admit. He insisted on coming downstairs but when, leaning heavily on his valet, he reached the library he was only too glad to stretch himself out on the sofa, and even to drink the cordial his mama pressed upon him. He was a handsome youth, but his features were too often marred by his expression, which was inclined to be petulant, and even, when he could not have his own way, or anything went amiss, sullen. In temperament, as in looks, he was very like his mother; but owing to the circum stance of his having been bereft of a father at an early age, and grossly indulged by his doting mama, all the faults which he had inherited from her were exaggerated. He had a good deal of charm; an ease of manner which made him generally an ac ceptable guest; and a reckless daring which won him the admira tion of a number of like-minded young gentlemen. His servants liked him, for although he was quite as exacting as his mother, and very much more selfish, he had inherited her genius for making his most outrageous demands appear to be the merest requests; and because he always thanked them, with the sweetest of smiles, expressed contrition for any outburst of temper, and gave them leave of absence whenever he foresaw no need of their services, he was thought to be very goodnatured. His hare-brained exploits were regarded by them with indulgence, as being the natural conduct to be expected of any high-spirited young gentleman; and his carelessness was excused on the score of his youth. Only his sister, whose natural fondness for him did not prevent her from recognizing his faults, had said once, when exasperated by some example of churlishness, that since he seemed to have a number of friends it was to be supposed that he reserved his bad temper for his family, conducting himself with propriety everywhere that lay beyond the bounds of his home; and since this caustic comment had drawn down upon her the instant wrath and longlasting reproaches of her mother, she had never repeated the offence.
   She had looked forward to her brother's emergence from his sickroom with misgiving, knowing his susceptibility, and wellaware that the smallest tendency on his part to flirt with Cherry would transform Lady Silverdale, in the twinkling of a bedpost, from a benevolent protectress into an inveterate enemy. But she discovered that Desford had been right: the dashing Mrs Cumbertrees might be a thing of the past, but Sir Charles's taste still ran to ladies of opulent charms and vast experience. He had no interest in ingénues, and his only comment, on meeting Cherry, must have allayed any alarm felt by his anxious parent. In fact, she felt none, and quite agreed with him when he said: 'What a snippety thing she is, Mama! A regular go-by-the- ground! I wonder Des should have troubled himself with her.'
   Mr Cary Nethercott wondered too, but, being a simple, straightforward man, he accepted what was indeed the true explanation without question, and without difficulty. 'One can only honour his lordship for his conduct in such a difficult situation,' he said, adding with a faint smile: 'And hope that one would have had the strength of mind to have behaved in the same way, had one been in his place!'
   'I expect you would have!' Henrietta returned, smiling. 'It was a very sad case, you know – sadder than the poor child revealed to Desford, I am afraid. Only a monster could have left her to her fate!'
   He agreed, but said gravely: 'But what is to become of her? So young, and so friendless – for
you
cannot continue to be responsible for her – or, I don't doubt, Lord Desford expect it of you.'
   'No, of course he doesn't. He has merely left her at Inglehurst while he discovers her grandfather's whereabouts. Though whether Lord Nettlecombe will be willing to receive her into his household I can't but think extremely doubtful.'
   'I am not acquainted with his lordship – except by reputation.'
   'Nor am I, but if only half the tales told of him are true he must be the most disagreeable, clutchfisted old man imaginable! I can but hope that he may be moved by Cherry's plight – even take a fancy to her, which wouldn't be wonderful, for there is something very attaching about her, and she has the sweetest of dispositions.'
   'She is certainly a very taking little thing,' he concurred. 'One doesn't like to think of her becoming a slave to such a purse-leech as Lord Nettlecombe is said to be.' He paused, frowning, and tapping his finger on the table. 'What does she mean to do if Nettlecombe doesn't acknowledge her?' he asked abruptly. 'Has she considered that possibility?'
   'Oh, yes! She has the intention – the very firm intention! – of seeking a post in some genteel household.'
   His frown deepened. 'What kind of a post? As governess? She must be too young to fill such a position!'
   'Not only too young, but quite unqualified for it,' said Henrietta. 'She thinks she could instruct children just out of the nursery, but I hope I may have convinced her that such a situation would be no improvement on the conditions she endured in her aunt's establishment. The other notion she has is to seek em ployment with an elderly invalid. She says – and I believe her! – that although she is not bookish she does know how to deal with what she calls cantankersome old ladies. Well, my own mama may not be old, and God forbid I should call her can tankersome, but it must be owned that – that she has odd humours! I daresay you know what I mean?' He bowed, look ing gravely at her. 'Yes. Well, I can only say that I have never known anyone who knew better how to keep her pleased and happy!'
   'Other than yourself !' he suggested.
   'Oh, good God, no!' she said, laughing. 'I'm no hand at it, I promise you! I haven't enough patience! But Cherry has. And she has more sympathy than I fear I shall ever have with hypo chondriacs! Does that shock you? Forget I said it!'
   He shook his head. 'Nothing you did me the honour to confide to me could shock me,' he said simply. 'What shocks me is knowing that you are aware of the imaginary nature of Lady Silverdale's aches and ills. Forgive me if I am expressing myself badly! I'm not ready of tongue, and find it hard to put my thoughts into words! But it has always seemed to me that you believed her to be in failing health, in which case your de votion to her was a natural thing, making it an impertinence for anyone to pity you, or – or to presume to think of rescuing you!'
   He stopped, reddening, as he perceived in her expressive eyes as much amusement as surprise. When she spoke, her words acted on him like a douche of cold water, for she said, on a quiver of laughter: 'Well, so I would suppose, sir! Good God, is it possible that you think me an object for pity, or that I need to be rescued? What a very odd notion you must have of me – and, indeed, of my poor mama! She may sometimes be tiresome, but I assure you she is as much attached to me as I am to her. I am perfectly happy, you know!'
   'Forgive me!' he muttered. 'I said too much!'
   'Why, of course!' she said, smiling at him. 'The truth is that you are too romantical, my friend, and should have lived when gentlemen of your cut used to ride out to rescue some damsel in distress. What a vast number of them there seem to have been, by the way! While as for the dragons and giants and ogres who held the damsels in thrall, when you consider how many of them were slain by the rescuing knights, you must be forced to the conclusion that the country was positively infested with them!'
   He could not help laughing, but he shook his head, saying: 'You are always so humoursome, Miss Hetta, that one can't but be diverted by your jokes. Are you
never
serious?'
   'Well, not for very long at a time!' she replied. 'I fear I am like Beatrice, and was born to speak all mirth and no matter! But come, we were discussing little Cherry's situation, not mine! She really is a damsel in distress!'
   'Hers is indeed a hard case,' he said heavily.
   'Yes, but I have every hope that it won't be long before she receives an offer!'
   'From Lord Desford?' he interrupted, watching her face closely.
   'From Desford?' she exclaimed involuntarily. 'Good God, no! At least, I most sincerely hope not! It would never do!'
   'Why do you say that? If he has fallen in love with her – '
   'My dear sir, I daresay Desford must be the last man to forget what he owes to his name, and his family! What in the world do you imagine Lord Wroxton would say to such a match?'
   'Do you mean to say that Lord Desford will marry to oblige his father?' he demanded.
   'No, but I am very sure he won't marry to disoblige him!' she said. 'When I said that I hoped it wouldn't be long before she received an offer I meant that if we can but introduce her into some household where she will be expected to help to entertain the visitors I have little doubt that she
will
receive an offer – perhaps several offers! – from perfectly respectable suitors, to whom her father's reputation won't signify a button.'
   'You must permit me to say, Miss Hetta, that her father's reputation ought not to signify to any man who loved her!'
   'Yes, that is all very well,' she said impatiently, 'but you cannot expect a Carrington to ally himself to a Steane! It isn't even as if they were of the true nobility! Lord Nettlecombe is only the second baron, you know, and his father, from all I have heard, was a very rough diamond.'
   'A man need not be contemptible because he was a rough diamond.'
   'Very true!' she retorted. 'He might be an admirable person! But unless I have been quite misinformed he was certainly not that! There is bad blood in the Steanes, Mr Nethercott, and although it hasn't come out in Cherry, who knows but what it might show itself in her children?'
   'If these are your sentiments, Miss Hetta, I must wonder at it that you dared to expose your brother to the risk of falling in love with her!' he said, in a quizzing tone, but with a grave look.
   She responded lightly: 'Yes, and I must own that I had the strongest misgivings! But Desford said that there was no need for me to tease myself over that, because it wouldn't happen. He says that boys of Charlie's age seldom fall in love with girls no older than they are themselves, but languish at the feet of dashing man-traps. And he was perfectly right, as he by far too often is! – Charlie thinks poor Cherry a very mean bit! Which is a good thing, of course, but I do trust that by the time he is old enough to think of settling down he will have outgrown his taste for dashing man-traps!'
   'Is that Lord Desford's opinion?' asked Mr Nethercott, unable to keep a sardonic note out of his voice.
   It passed her by. She said, wrinkling her brow: 'I don't think I ever asked him, but I'm very sure it would be, because, now you put me in mind of it, I recall that the first females he ever dangled after were years older than he was himself, and not at all the sort of women anyone but a confirmed noddicock would have dreamt of asking to marry him. And that, you know, Desford never was, even in his most ramshackle days!'
   Her eyes lit with reminiscent amusement as she spoke, but a glance at Mr Nethercott's face informed her that he did not share her amusement, so she very wisely brought their têteà-tête to an end, by getting up from her chair, and inviting him to go with her to the library, where Charlie, still confined largely to the sofa, would be delighted to enjoy a comfortable cose with him.

Eight

In the meantime the Viscount was being afforded ample opportunity to regret his chivalry. He spent the day following his return to Arlington Street in a number of abortive attempts to discover Lord Nettlecombe's where abouts, even (though with extreme reluctance) going to the length of overcoming his strong dislike of Mr Jonas Steane, and calling at his house in Upper Grosvenor Street. But Mr Steane, like his father, had gone out of town; and although he had not left his house entirely empty the ancient caretaker who was at last induced to respond to the summons of a bell pulled with enough vigour to have broken the wires, and to a crescendo of knocks, was unable to give Desford any more precise information than that Mr Steane had taken his family to Scarborough. No, he disremembered that he had ever been told the exact direction of his lodgings: all he knew was that the servants had been given a fortnight's holiday, but would be back again at the end of the following week, with orders to give the house a proper clean-up before the family returned to it. No, he hadn't never heard that Lord Nettlecombe had gone off to Scarborough too, but if anyone was to ask him he'd be bound to say he didn't think he had, being as he was at outs with Mr Steane. Finally, with the praiseworthy intention of assisting the Viscount, he said that he wouldn't wonder at it if Mr Steane's lawyer knew where he was to be found; but as he was unable to furnish Desford with the lawyer's name, misdoubting that no one had ever told him what it was, being that it wasn't no concern of his, the suggestion that Desford should seek him out was not as helpful as he plainly believed it to be.

Other books

My Favorite Mistake by Georgina Bloomberg, Catherine Hapka
No Ordinary Day by Polly Becks
The Neon Bible by John Kennedy Toole
El hombre anumérico by John Allen Paulos
Claire's Prayer by Yvonne Cloete
Captive Bride by Bonnie Dee
Dead Tropics by Sue Edge
The Revenge of Geography by Robert D. Kaplan