Read Faro's Daughter Online

Authors: Georgette Heyer

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General, #Classics

Faro's Daughter (12 page)

BOOK: Faro's Daughter
14Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

He burst out laughing. ‘Sure, what would you be wanting with the same, me darlin’?’

‘Well, she need not be a widow,’ conceded Deborah. ‘Only my aunt said that it was a pity you were acquainted with so many vulgar widows, that I thought—The thing is that I am going to Vauxhall with Mablethorpe tomorrow, and I shall need you. And the widow too, of course.’

It was not to be expected that Lucius Kennet would refrain from demanding an explanation of this odd request. Miss Grantham, who had been in the habit of confiding all her troubles to him, then took him into the adjoining saloon, and gave him a fluent account of the day’s events. He whistled when he heard of her refusal to accept twenty thousand pounds, but he had a very lively sense of humour, and her scheme for revenging herself appealed to him so strongly that he vowed he did not blame her for choosing it in preference to sordid gold. He promised to present himself at Mablethorpe’s box at Vauxhall with a widow who should be everything that was desired, and went off, still chuckling, to join a number of gentlemen seated round a table, and intent upon hazard.

Mr Ravenscar, meanwhile, had driven away in a towering rage, quite as heartily resolved as Miss Grantham to be revenged. To be crossed was a new experience, for from the circumstances of his father having died when he was still a very young man, and of his having come into the possession of the Ravenscar fortune, he had been used for a number of years to have everything very much as he chose. He was, in fact, accustomed to flattery, and downright sycophancy, both of which he despised; and since they had discovered from experience that he had a decided will of his own, neither his stepmother nor his aunt ever made any but half-hearted attempts to influence him. To be outfaced, therefore, by a girl from a gaming-house was something he had never anticipated, nor, consequently, made any plans to counter. He had been as surprised as he was enraged by the intransigent attitude assumed by Miss Grantham; his pride, bruised at the outset by the necessity of buying off such a creature, had now received a wound from which it would be long before it recovered. The thoughts he cherished about the lady were quite as unkind as any she indulged towards him; and his will was now set on rescuing Adrian from her toils without enriching her by as much as a farthing.

But although Mr Ravenscar’s imperious temper was hot, it was by no means ungoverned, since he was, as Miss Grantham had at first supposed, a sensible, even a hard-headed man. After dwelling grimly upon every circumstance of his encounter with Deborah, he was obliged to confess that her behaviour was not only unexpected, but almost inexplicable. His dislike of not getting his own way, coupled with the conviction of an infuriated moment that no price would be too heavy to pay to extricate Adrian from such an entanglement, had prompted him to make his final offer. The offer was regretted as soon as it was made, for twenty thousand pounds was a fantastic figure, and Mr Ravenscar disliked being swindled as much as he disliked having his will crossed. But the very magnitude of the sum ought at least to have given Miss Grantham pause. She had indeed pretended to consider the matter, but he was convinced that this was the merest affectation. She had never the smallest intention of relinquishing Adrian.

Having observed her demeanour towards his cousin, Ravenscar was perfectly certain that she did not feel a spark of love for him. He could only suppose that she had set her heart on acquiring a title, and a position in the world of ton. He acknowledged that he had not, at their first meeting, thought this of her. Reflecting, he admitted that on the whole he had been rather pleasantly surprised by her. She had a frank way of looking at one, and very easy, unaffected manners, quite at variance with the airs she had assumed during their drive together. Mr Ravenscar remembered the flash he had seen in her eyes, and frowned again. Had the circumstances been other than they were, he would almost have suspected her of being very angry. Her position in her aunt’s house, her enslavement of a green boy out of the schoolroom, her connexion with such a notorious rake as Ormskirk, must, however, put such a possibility out of count. He decided that she was playing a deep game, and registered a mental oath to frustrate her. But while he was turning over plans in his head, still that seed of doubt troubled his mind, and was presently fostered by a hurried visit from Lord Mablethorpe.

His lordship paid his second morning call in Grosvenor Square scarcely an hour after Ravenscar reached the house again, after taking his greys to Kensington and back. Hearing that his cousin was in his library, he declined being announced, but erupted upon Ravenscar without ceremony, saying impetuously as he entered the room: ‘Max! I am very sorry—you won’t mind, I am persuaded!—I find I cannot go with you to Vauxhall tomorrow!’

‘Very well,’ replied Ravenscar. ‘Have a glass of Madeira!’

‘Well, really I ought to be on my way! However, perhaps—I have a toast to drink, Max!’

Ravenscar poured out the wine into two glasses. ‘Is it a momentous one? Shall I send for the Burgundy?’

Adrian laughed. ‘No, I like your Madeira. I must tell you that I have just come this instant from St James’s Square.’ Ravenscar paused in the act of picking up his glass. He shot a quick, frowning look at his cousin. ‘Indeed!’

‘Yes, and so I came on here at once. I had to see you!’ Ravenscar stiffened, and turned to face his lordship. ‘Yes?’

‘Max, she has consented at last!’ Adrian said joyfully. ‘She says she will marry me as soon as I come of age!’

Ravenscar’s eyes remained fixed on the handsome young face confronting him, a startled expression in them. ‘Is that all she said?’ he demanded.

‘Good God, what more could I desire to hear from her? What a fellow you are, to be sure! She considers it would be unwise to announce the betrothal, but she made no objection to my telling you, and my mother, of course.’

‘Oh, she made no objection to that? You said, in fact, that you would tell me?’

‘Yes, certainly, and she said I might do so with her good will. Max, I am the happiest man alive! And that is why I cannot go with your party to Vauxhall.. I knew you would understand! Deb has a great fancy to go there, and I am to escort her. I am off now to bespeak a box, and supper. Bu first we must drink to my betrothal!’

Ravenscar picked up his glass. ‘I will drink to your future happiness,’ he said.

Adrian tossed off his wine, and set the glass down. ‘Well that is the same thing. I must be off! I shall see you in a day or two, I dare say.’

‘At Vauxhall, no doubt. Do you value my advice?’

‘Why, you know I do!’ Adrian said, pausing, with his hand on the door, and looking back.

‘Say nothing of this to your mother.’

‘Oh, you are too late! I have told her! Of course, she don’ like it, but only wait until she is acquainted with Deb! She will very soon change her opinion.’

It was fortunate that he was in haste to be off, and so did no wait long enough to see the expression in his cousin’s face look of contemptuous disbelief made Mr Ravenscar appear rather saturnine, and must have startled his unsuspicious relative. But he went away in happy ignorance of Ravenscar’s thoughts, bent only on making every arrangement for Miss Grantham’s entertainment on the following evening.

He left his cousin a prey to conflicting emotions. Rage at Miss Grantham for having countered his attack so swiftly rage at her impudence in encouraging Adrian to inform him o: the engagement, struggled with the first tiny shoots of the seed of doubt in his mind. It might be that Deborah was seeking to force up her price: but could she possibly hope for a larger sum than had already been offered to her? Considering this, he recalled that she had rallied him, on their first meeting on being the rich Mr Ravenscar. She had heard him lay a preposterous bet; perhaps she imagined that his fondness for Adrian would induce him to lay out some vast sum for his redemption. She should discover her mistake! But she had no told Adrian of her drive with him in the Park that morning He was unable to find a motive to account for this forbearance In his present white-hot ardour, Adrian would most assuredly have taken up the cudgels in her defence. She could have had nothing whatsoever to fear through laying bare the whole to Adrian, and she must have known this. What the devil was the wench up to? She might have destroyed at a blow any influence he had ever had over Adrian, and, incalculably, she had refrained from doing it. Mr Ravenscar began, reluctantly, to feel interested in the working of Miss Grantham’s mind.

The knowledge that Adrian had informed his parent of Deborah’s acceptance of his hand prepared Ravenscar for the inevitable sequel. Before the day was out, Lady Mablethorpe’s lozenge-carriage had drawn up in Grosvenor Square, and her ladyship, awe-inspiring in purple lusting and nodding plumes, was demanding to see her nephew.

Her call followed hard upon the arrival from Tunbridge Wells of Mrs and Miss Ravenscar, and she entered the house to find herself in a hall piled high with cloak-bags, portmanteaus, and band-boxes, which several harassed servants were endeavouring to remove with all possible dispatch. She was annoyed to find that she had mistimed her visit, but after a moment’s hesitation she decided to remain, and requested the butler to send in her card to Mrs Ravenscar.

She was almost immediately desired to step upstairs to the drawing-room, where she found her sister-in-law lying on a satin sofa, with her smelling-salts in her hand, and a glass of ratafia-and-water on a small table beside her. Chattering animatedly to Ravenscar, by the window, her niece, Arabella, presented an agreeable picture in a flowered gown with fluttering ribbons, and a demure fichu round her neck.

Miss Ravenscar bore very little resemblance to her mother, who was a classically beautiful woman of pale colouring, and rather expressionless features. Miss Ravenscar was a tiny brunette, with the most vivid, mischievous little face imaginable. She was quite as dark as her half-brother, and much better looking. Her short upper lip had the most enchanting lift; her pansy-eyes sparkled as she talked, and a pair of dimples played at hide-and-seek at the corners of her mouth. When she caught sight of her aunt, she came running across the room to meet her, crying: ‘Oh, my dear Aunt Selina, how pleased I am to see you again! Oh, dearest aunt, I declare I never saw such a terrifying bonnet! It makes me quite frightened of you! I wonder my cousin will let you wear such an abominable thing!’

‘Arabella, my love!’ expostulated Mrs Ravenscar, in feeble accents.

But Arabella’s lilting smile and warm embrace quite robbed her impertinent speech of offence. Lady Mablethorpe patted her indulgently, calling her a naughty puss, and trod over to the sofa to kiss her sister-in-law’s faded cheek. Privately, she considered that Olivia might very well have risen to welcome her, but she made no comment, merely remarking that she was sorry to see her looking so poorly.

‘It was the journey,’ explained Mrs Ravenscar, in a gently complaining tone. ‘I have been telling Max he must positively have the coach-springs attended to. I thought I should have been shattered by the jolting. You must excuse my receiving you upon my sofa, but you know how the least exertion prostrates me, my dear Selina. Do, pray, be seated. How noisy it is in town! I do not know how my nerves will support it. I am conscious of all the bustle already.’

Lady Mablethorpe had-little patience with such fancies, but she was a civil woman, and for the next few minutes she listened with outward sympathy to a description of the many and varied ailments which had overtaken her sister-in-law since their last meeting.

Arabella broke in presently on her mother’s lamentations, exclaiming: ‘Oh, Mama, you know it is quite decided that you are not going to find London too fatiguing for you this time! I am so happy to be here again! I mean to go to all the balls, and the ridottos, and the masquerades, and the theatres, and—oh, everything! And you know you are to go with me to all the best warehouses to choose the stuffs for my new dresses, for I declare I have not a rag to my back, and no one has such good taste as you, dearest!’

Mrs Ravenscar smiled faintly, but said that she feared her health would break down under the strain.

‘Well, if it does, Arabella knows she may count upon me,’, said Lady Mablethorpe bracingly. ‘Nothing would give me more pleasure than to take the child about a little. I have often been sorry that I had never a daughter.’

This was not strictly true, but it had the effect of making Arabella hug her ruthlessly, and call her darling aunt. Lady Mablethorpe was more than ever convinced that it would be the greatest shame if the sweet child were not to be her daughter-in-law.

This reflection brought to her mind the purpose of her visit, and she cast a glance towards Ravenscar, so fraught with meaning that he could scarcely have remained oblivious of it. He contrived, however, to appear unaware of the silent message thus conveyed to him, and her ladyship was obliged to request the favour of a few words with him.

‘Certainly,’ he said. ‘Will you come down to the library, ma’am?’

She accepted this not very cordial invitation, and made her excuses to Mrs Ravenscar, promising to visit her again when she should have had time to settle down.

Ravenscar led the way downstairs, and ushered his aunt into the library. She barely waited for him to close the door before saying: ‘I would not for the world mention the matter before that dear child! But the most shocking thing has happened, Max!’

‘I know it,’ he replied. ‘Miss Grantham has accepted Adrian’s offer.’

‘You told me you would see the woman, Max!’

BOOK: Faro's Daughter
14Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Brazil on the Move by John Dos Passos
Death Loves a Messy Desk by Mary Jane Maffini
Past All Forgetting by Sara Craven
Tamarind Mem by Anita Rau Badami
Gorgeous as Sin by Susan Johnson