Frederica (8 page)

She said thoughtfully: “As a matter of fact, I fancy it
would
be better if you took him to that place yourself. He is a very enterprising boy, you know, and there’s never any saying what he may take it into his head to do.”

“Charles will know how to keep him in order,” he replied indifferently.

She looked doubtful, but said no more. It was apparent to her that his lordship had fallen into a mood of abstraction. He was staring unseeingly at the opposite wall, an odd smile playing about the corners of his mouth. It grew, and he suddenly laughed, under his breath, saying: “By God, I’ll do it!”

“Do what?” demanded Frederica.

He had evidently forgotten her presence. Her voice brought his eyes round to her face, but instead of answering her he asked abruptly: “What are they doing here, those brothers of yours? They should be at school!”

“Well, in some ways I think you may be right,” she agreed. “Papa, however, never entertained the idea of sending any of his sons to school. He himself was educated at home, you know. That, of course, may not seem to you a very good reason for pursuing the same course with the boys—and, to own the truth, it doesn’t seem so to me either—but one ought not to be unjust, and it
would
be unjust to assume that poor Papa thought that his—his
errors
were due to his upbringing. And I don’t know that they were,” she added reflectively. “The Merrivilles have always had a tendency towards volatility.”

“Have they indeed?” he returned, a satirical curl to his lips. “Is a tutor employed to instruct Jessamy and Felix, then?”

“Oh, yes,
scores
of tutors!” responded Miss Merriville. She perceived a startled look in his lordship’s eye, and hastened to reassure him. “Oh, not all at once! One after the other, you understand! You can’t think how vexatious! The thing is that if they are old the boys don’t like it, because they can’t enter into their sports; and if they are young they only want to stay for a month or two while they wait to take up a post in a school, or at one of the Universities, or some such thing. And, which is even more provoking, they always fall desperately in love with Charis!”

“That I can readily believe.”

She nodded, but sighed also. “Yes, and the mischief is that she
cannot
bring herself to repulse them. She has a
fatally
tender heart, and can’t bear to give pain to anyone—particularly not to people like poor Mr Griff, who was very awkward, and shy, and had red hair, and an Adam’s apple which bobbed up and down in his throat. He was the last tutor. Just at present the boys are enjoying a holiday, but when they have seen all the sights in London, and have grown a little more accustomed, I must engage another tutor for them. But Jessamy is very good, and studies for two hours every day, because he is determined to go up to Oxford when he is eighteen, a year before Harry did.” “Is Harry at Oxford now?”

“Yes, in his second year. Which is why it seemed to me to be just the moment to come to London for a year. It will do him a great deal of good to see something of the world before he is obliged to settle down at Graynard, don’t you think? Besides, he will enjoy it excessively!”

“I’ve no doubt he will,” said Alverstoke. He looked down at her, a glint in his eyes. “Meanwhile, we have to consider
your
situation. I have the intention of giving a ball within the next few weeks, to mark the come-out of one of my nieces. You and your sister will appear at it, to be presented to the ton by
my
sister, and you will all of you doubtless receive invitations to attend a number of other such parties, to which my sister will escort you. Ah!
and
my cousin, Mrs Dauntry, who also has a daughter to bring out at my ball!”

Frederica’s lips quivered; mischief danced in her eyes; she said: “I am very much obliged to you! What a fortunate circumstance it was that Charis should have come home in time to make your acquaintance!”

“Yes, wasn’t it?” he retorted. “I might not otherwise have realized what a shocking thing it would be to keep such a diamond in the undistinguished shade!”

“Exactly so! And nothing could be better than for her to appear at your ball. I am
truly
very grateful to you, but there is not the least necessity to invite me as well.”

“Are you proposing to go into seclusion?”

“No, but—”

“Then there is every necessity for you to appear at my ball. I am strongly of the opinion, too, that your aunt should be prevailed upon to accompany you. Since you are not living under my sister’s roof, it would seem strangely particular if no respectable guardian were to be seen. Her eccentricity need not trouble you—”

“It doesn’t!” interjected Frederica.

“—for eccentrics are all the rage,” he continued.

“Well, it wouldn’t trouble me if they were not. But I can’t help thinking that your sister may not agree to this scheme.”

The glint in his eyes became more pronounced. “She will! “he said.

“You can’t know that!” Frederica argued.

“Believe me, I do know it.”

“No you don’t, for you’ve only this instant thought of it yourself,” said Frederica bluntly. “It’s all very well to be so top-lofty, but unless your niece is also a
diamond,
as you phrase it, Charis will quite outshine her! What mother would consent to bring out her daughter in Charis’s company?”

A smile flickered on his mouth, but that was the only sign vouchsafed her that he was attending to her. He took a pinch of snuff, and said, as he shut his box: “I’ll accept the relationship between us—cousin!—but it’s not enough. You suggested that I should pose as your guardian: very well! let us say that your father commended you to my care. Now, why should he have done so?”

“Well, he did say that you were the best of his family,” offered Frederica.

“That won’t fadge! My sisters, I’ll go bail, know as well as I do how remote is the connection between us! Some better reason must be found to satisfy their curiosity.”

Entering into the spirit of this, Frederica said: “Papa once did you a—a signal service, which you have never till now been able to repay!”

“
What
service?” asked his lordship sceptically.

“That,” returned Frederica, with aplomb, “is something you prefer not to divulge—
particularly
to your sisters!”

“Oh, very good!” he approved, the disquieting glint in his eyes yielding to genuine amusement. “I feel myself to be under an obligation to him, and for that reason have assumed the guardianship of his children.” He caught the speculative gleam in her eyes, and his brows rose. “Well?”

“I was merely thinking—cousin!—that if you mean to become our guardian it will be more proper for
you
to find a suitable tutor for Jessamy and for Felix than for
me
to do so!”

“I know nothing about such matters—and my guardianship will be quite unofficial!”

“You may depend upon
that
!”
said Frederica. “But I see no reason why you shouldn’t be useful!”

“May I remind you that I have consented to introduce you to the ton? There my usefulness will stop!”

“No, how can it? If you mean to set it about that you think yourself in honour bound to protect us, you must do
something
besides inviting Charis and me to a ball in your house! To be sure, I am very grateful to you for that—though you wouldn’t have done it if Charis hadn’t bowled you out!—but—”

“Charis,” he interrupted, “is a very beautiful girl—possibly the most beautiful girl I have yet encountered—but if you imagine that I shall invite her to the ball because I lost my heart to her you are wide of the mark, Cousin Frederica!”

“I must say I hope you won’t do that,” she replied, looking a little troubled. “You are much too old for her, you know!”

“Very true!” he retorted. “She being much too young for me!”

“Of course she is!” Frederica agreed. “So why did you decide suddenly to invite us?”

“That, cousin, I do not propose to tell you.”

She considered him, a gathering frown on her brow, her unwavering gaze searching his face. She was puzzled by him. She had not, at the outset, been favourably impressed: his figure was good, his tailoring exquisite, and his countenance, though not handsome, distinguished; but she had thought that his manner held too much height, and that his eyes were cold, and unpleasantly cynical. Even his smile had seemed to be contemptuous, curling his lips, but leaving his eyes as hard as steel. Then she had said something that had appealed to his sense of humour, and the metallic gleam had vanished in a smile of real amusement. Not only did it warm his eyes, but it transformed him in a flash from the aristocrat of haughty composure to an easy-mannered gentleman, with a strong sense of the ridiculous, and considerable charm of manner. Within minutes he had pokered up again; yet there was not a grain of starch in him when Felix had bounced into the room; he had answered all his and Jessamy’s questions with patience and good-humour; and had looked upon both boys with kindness. He had borne the cavalier treatment meted out to him by Miss Winsham with indifference; and the gaze which he had fixed on Charis had been deeply appreciative. Frederica entertained no doubt that it was admiration for Charis that had caused him to change his mind, but what it was that had brought the malicious glint back into his eyes she could not guess.

She looked doubtfully at him. His brows rose; he said: “Well?”

“I ought to have been a widow!” she exclaimed in a vexed tone. “Yes, and if I had a particle of sense I would have been!”

The expression she mistrusted vanished; his eyes held only laughter. “You will be!” he assured her.

“That’s of no use!” she answered impatiently. “If I were a widow
now
—” She broke off, quick merriment in her face. “Well, of all the abominable things to say—! I do have the family in charge—that’s because I’m the eldest—but I’m not
tyrannical,
or—or vixenish! At least, I don’t
think
I am!”

“No, no!” he said soothingly. “I am persuaded you handle the reins in excellent form. I wish you will tell me how, if you had had a particle of sense, you could have become a widow? Or why you should wish to: have you a husband concealed about you?”

“Of course I haven’t! I meant only that I ought to have pretended I was a widow. Then I might have chaperoned Charis myself, and you need not have dragged your sister into it.”

“Oh, I haven’t the least objection to doing that!” he said.

“Yes, but she may object very much! After all, she isn’t even acquainted with us!”

“That shall be rectified.” He held out his hand. “I must go now, but you shall hear from me within a day or two. Oh, pray don’t pull the bell! Recollect that I’ve become a member of the family, and don’t stand on points with me! I’ll usher myself out.”

This, however, he was not obliged to do, since Felix was lying in wait for him in the hall, and escorted him out to his carriage in a very civil manner which had its root in his determination to wring from him the promise of a visit to the foundry in Soho.

“Have no fear!” said his lordship. “The matter shall be attended to.”

“Yes, sir—thank you! But you’ll go with me yourself, won’t you? Not your secretary?”

“My dear boy, why should I? I daresay Mr Trevor knows far more about these mysteries than I do.”

“Yes, but—Oh,
do
come yourself, sir! It would make it first-rate!”

The Marquis believed himself to be hardened against flattery. He thought that he had experienced every variety, but he discovered that he was mistaken: the blatantly worshipful look in the eyes of a twelve-year-old, anxiously raised to his, was new to him, and it pierced his defences. He was capable of giving the coolest of set-downs to any gushing female; and the advances of toadeaters he met with the most blistering of snubs; but even as he realized how intolerably bored he would be in Soho he found himself quite unable to snub his latest and most youthful admirer. It would be like kicking a confiding puppy.

So Master Felix Merriville, presently racing up the stairs again to the drawing-room, was able to inform Frederica triumphantly that all was right: “Cousin Alverstoke” was going to take him to see the pneumatic lift
himself,
and, further, that he was a regular trump.

V

Upon the following day Mr Charles Trevor sustained a shock. Not twenty minutes after the Marquis’s agent-in-chief had deposited on his desk a mass of reports and accounts which it was Mr Trevor’s enviable duty to reduce to such proportions as would be tolerable to their noble employer, the Marquis strolled into his office, saying: “Good morning, Charles. Do you know of any foundries in Soho?”

“
Foundries,
sir?” said Mr Trevor, stunned by so unprecedented an enquiry.

“Something to do with the casting of metals, I fancy,” explained the Marquis, levelling his glass at the litter of papers on the desk. “Good God, Charles, why have you never told me how overworked you are? What, in the name of abomination, is all this?”

“Only quarter-day, sir!” said Charles, laughing. “Coleford has been with me—knowing that if he were to give these papers to your lordship you wouldn’t read a word of them! But—
foundries
?
Do you—do you wish for information about them?” An idea occurred to him; his eyes kindled, and he asked: “Is there to be some question raised? Do you mean to speak on it, sir?”