Lady Elizabeth's Comet (21 page)

"There's no chance of that."

"I thought not." He rode some distance in silence. Finally, he said coolly, "Lady Whitby
may amuse herself making lists. Where's the harm?"

"She'll bully you into marrying some butter-toothed female, because she was a friend of
the woman's great-aunt Sophy."

"You underestimate my obstinacy."

I gave a short laugh. "You underestimate my aunt's pertinacity."

"We shall see. How goes the comet?"

"Stop trying to soothe me."

"God forbid."

We rode on. He added after a moment, "Of course, there's always the chance I might be
wondering why I can't find the damned thing with my glass."

I was disconcerted. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, don't."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Don't apologise. That's the second time in one afternoon. It don't become you." At that
he sounded so like Bevis that I looked over at him, startled. He smiled at me.

I let out a long sigh. "My aunt delights in throwing me off balance. Shall you truly give
her your escort? I didn't know you meant to go up for the wedding."

"I thought it might be diplomatic."

"Dunarvon?"

He nodded.

"I've not writ Bevis about my comet," I said abruptly. "I mean to tax him with it in
Town. Will you back me up?"

He glanced at me, frowning.

"Craven," I mocked.

"It's not that." He was choosing his words. "Bevis is my friend. I make it a habit not to
intrude in such matters. Especially not unasked. I oughtn't to have spoken to you of it, advised
you, but it seemed such a waste..." His voice trailed.

I glanced over at him and was startled by his bleak self-absorption--as if he were
listening to some displeasing inner counsel.

"I'm glad you'll be on the scene," I said lightly. "If Bevis blacks my eye you may be
called on to jump to the rescue."

He smiled but his smile was wry. "I don't foresee so melodramatic an outcome."

"Did you truly run away to America when you were a child?"

"To Nova Scotia. My sole claim to personal distinction."

"How did you find passage?" I was eat up with curiosity.

"Luck and a plausible tongue. I made my way to Bristol and gulled a ship's cook into
taking me on as his helper."

"But didn't he wonder where you came from and who your father was?"

"Oh, yes. I lied."

I pulled the mare up and he reined in, too, regarding me quizzically.

"What happened?" I fairly shouted.

He grinned. "I was exceeding seasick."

I pulled aside at one of the rides, a narrow avenue of beeches. "Very well, Clanross, if
you won't talk..."

"That's a handsome planting. I like beeches. My
mal de mer
was germane to the
story, you know."

"Oh. You found you weren't cut out for piracy on the high seas?"

"It was borne upon me." He chuckled. "On the crew, too. My old salt of a cook gave me
a shilling and put me ashore at the first port of call. I fancy that was the first time the master had
connived at desertion. It was all very lowering, but I was glad to find myself on terra firma."

I said dryly, "You think it's a lark now, but I daresay you were frightened at the
time."

"Yes, of course, and dirty and quite often hungry in the first weeks. All the same, it was
a grand adventure. I daresay if I'd come ashore in mid-winter I'd sing a different tune, but it was
June and the docks were busy. I hung about the shops and taverns running errands and holding
horses. Fortunately, the parish beadle caught up with me at harvest and sent me off to my
Scotsman. He needed hands."

"And he kept you on?"

He said simply, "I was indentured to him."

That shocked me as much as the fact of his flight. The earl of Clanross an indentured
servant! How Papa must have hated the idea. "I trust your Scotsman dealt kindly with you."

"I regarded Presbyterian sermons as a form of torture at the time, but he was kind
enough. Mr. M'Closkie was a pillar of the kirk, very earnest as to the health of our souls. The
mistress was of a more practical turn of mind. She was always dosing us with brimstone and
treacle."

"Ugh. Us?"

"Her children and servants and neighbours and any passing wayfarers. It was quite a
large household."

"I believe you enjoyed it!"

"I believe I did." He smiled at my surprise. "At any rate, there was little time for
melancholic reflection. And at the least sign of droop, Mistress M'Closkie would go for her jar
and spoon." He pursed his mouth and spoke in falsetto Scots. "'Tammas, are ye sickenin'? Nae
then, lad, open wide. Angus, the wee deil's bit ma finger tae the bane.'"

I couldn't help laughing at that. We had reached the end of the ride where my
grandfather had caused a tiny pavillion to be erected in a carefully sculpted glade. Clanross
dismounted to inspect the structure.

I followed, trailing my reins. "Grandpapa built it for the convenience of those of his
guests who wished for a spot of discreet dalliance. In summer, of course. Anne and Charles
Wharton and I were used to slay Saracens from behind the pillars. Or rather Charles and I did.
Anne was always Berengaria."

Clanross leaned against one of the pillars, turning the reins idly in his hands. "And you
were Richard the Lionheart?"

I sat on the steps, remembering. My mare munched a clump of bluebells. "No, I was
usually Charles's esquire or his Saxon bowman or occasionally Blondel when we got to that
part." My thoughts took a turn. "You were acting a phantasy, weren't you--running off to be a
pirate."

"Yes, up to the point at which reality intruded."

"I think you must have been very unhappy."

Clanross did not reply at once. His hand stilled on the reins.

"Your father can't have been a complete ogre."

"I daresay he wasn't. I didn't know him very well, and he knew nothing of children. We
were thrust upon one another."

"Then I take it you had lived with your mother?"

"And sister. Jenny and I caught a putrid fever from the village children, and my mother
took it from nursing us."

"And they both died?" I asked, gentle. "I'm sorry. Were you very ill?"

"Yes. When I recovered my father closed the house in Devon and took me to his
lodgings in Bath. We quarrelled the whole time." He gave a short laugh. "I kept taunting him. I'd
taken it into my head that it was his fault because he wasn't there in time, and I made the mistake
of saying so when he was foxed. He knocked me about and stormed off to the White Hart to his
cronies. That was when I ran away."

"Didn't he try to find you?"

"Probably. When he'd sobered. By that time I was already off on my voyaging."

I sat still, thinking. "I collect your father asked mine to help search for you." I looked up
at him.

He was still frowning but seemed more thoughtful than disturbed. "I never learnt what
happened. My father's excesses caught up with him some time in the following spring, and since
Lord Clanross was his chief creditor I daresay your father was appointed to wind up the estate.
His minions caught up with me in October of the year after I ran away. I was not delighted." A
flicker of amusement lit his eyes. "Neither were they. They had to winter in Halifax."

"They?"

"Parson Freeman and his very dour groom." He added dryly, "Freeman spent the time
civilising me and reviving my Latin grammar."

"I think you didn't like Mr. Freeman."

He turned the rein in his hands. "We disagreed as to the nature and extent of my
depravity. He was a good scholar. Perhaps too good. I continued in his household for three years
after we returned. He had the sense to see I learnt the mathematics and real French--not the
patois I'd picked up in Halifax." Paloma chose that moment to snort and toss her head, and
Clanross, smiling, rose to soothe her.

I stood, too. When he had calmed his mare he gave me a boost into the saddle and
himself remounted from the steps.

"That was graceful."

"Not half." He raised his quirt in a mock salute. "Old General Cuesta was used to be
held in the saddle by four grooms and an aide with a plume in his hat. D'you think I should deck
Sims out in livery as my prop?"

"Unnecessary." He was a born horseman, as anyone could see, and didn't need me to tell
him so.

"Not necessary," he agreed blandly. "Merely in keeping with my dignity."

"You're a humbug, Clanross."

He looked hurt. "I was sure you'd approve."

I flushed. Did I really seem so high in the instep?
"Touché.
Do you care
for a run?"

"Done."

Paloma outdistanced Josephine easily, and Clanross waited for me at the entrance to the
ride, whence we rode off toward the Dower House stables at a more sedate pace.

"She's a fire-eater, isn't she? Did you find Paloma in Spain?"

"I bought her in Lancashire straight off the Irish boat, but I could have used her in Spain.
One of my broken-down nags nearly got me taken by a French vedette when I was doing a spot
of observation."

"You outran them?"

"I saw them first and gave Rosinante the spur. She was offended, but I persuaded her to
a genteel amble."

"And the Polish Lancers thundered after you, eyes gleaming red and pennons flashing in
the sun?"

"That's very good," he said approvingly. "Have you considered taking to the writing of
novels when you give up your telescope?"

"I don't mean to give up my telescope."

"Good. Make Bevis convey you to Egypt. The air's clear there."

"I think I'd prefer Spain or Italy. There's an observatory at... What happened, you
perverse man!"

"Oh. Well, they weren't Lancers and they were almost as miserably mounted as I was. I
ducked into the lines with a few feet to spare. We must have made a comic sight, ambling and
lumbering along. Newmarket in reverse."

"The prize to the slowest?" I laughed, and my groom, who was standing in the stable
door, looked up at us. "You could give a cup at the Derby--for the last horse over the mark."

He smiled as I slid to the ground and tossed my reins to my groom. "Good afternoon,
Elizabeth. You oughtn't to let your aunt cut up your peace, you know. She seems relatively
harmless on closer acquaintance."

"Like a cobra," I snapped.

He laughed and rode off.

At Sarah Tyrell's wedding I sat with my sister, Anne, Alice, and Featherstonehaugh,
closer to the front than I wished, though a throng of Tyrells and Tyrell in-laws spared me a direct
view.

All morning Anne had spent dressing. All morning I had spent dawdling. I had not
wanted the day to come for the obvious reason that Bevis would wish to tell Dunarvon of our
plighted troth. Then there would be no backing out, at least not without unpleasantness.

I sat beside Anne, who peered and gave a low-whispered commentary as the church
began to fill. At first I was so caught up in my discomfortable reflections that I noticed very
little. Gradually, however, my eyes turned outward. After all, a wedding--like a funeral--is a
great pageant.

I had a better look at the groom's side than my own. Fashionable matrons,
knowing-looking gentlemen in impeccable morning clothes, gothick great aunts, a sprinkling of scrubbed
children who would later make themselves sick on cakes and ices, a bewigged ancient in knee
breeches--they took their seats, whispering and simpering at friends. They had the look of a
crowd at a hanging.

I could see the back of Bevis's head where he sat beside Lady Dunarvon, with three
younger brothers in a row beside him. His head looked square and stubborn from behind. I had
never noticed that. His shoulders were superb, however, in dark blue superfine. As he bent to
listen to some soft comment of his mother's, he presented the irresistible profile, and my
queasiness temporarily subsided. He is remarkably handsome.

I called up before my mind's eye the picture of his father--gouty, balding, florid-faced.
Would Bevis go off so? Perhaps. Bevis's features were better, stronger and more definite, and
Dunarvon weighed a good two stone more than his son, most of it in jowls and paunch.

Just as I was mentally adding dewlaps and a purple nose to Bevis's impeccable features,
there was a bustle in the aisle and my aunt and Clanross were ushered into our pew. Alice, Anne,
and I scrunched to the left. Aunt shifted about and finally made Clanross exchange places with
her, the better to see the bride. At least she had left pug behind.

I was conscious of Clanross beside me. He favoured me with a nod and Anne and Alice
with a brief smile and returned his attentions to my aunt, so it was not as if he demanded my
notice. Nevertheless, to my surprise, he had it.

I observed the well-cut grey sleeve, the long-fingered sinewy hand, rather brown against
the white cuff, my father's heavy seal ring twisted slightly as if it were loose. Most of all, I was
aware of the deep composure that allowed Clanross, once Aunt was settled, to sit without
fidgeting under the stares of the assembly, for he must have known himself to be an object of
curiosity.

I almost laughed aloud. There I was, feeling proprietary satisfaction in how brown and
steady Clanross was looking and how neatly turned out he was, and at the same time I was
riveted by Bevis's profile and splendid shoulders. What was wrong with me? Weighing upon
these pleasant if confusing sensations was an almost suffocating feeling of entrapment. I wanted
out.

At that critical moment the organ swelled importantly, and the bridesmaids drifted down
the aisle--the usual motley collection of old friends and Ton acquaintances, some looking
awkward and befreckled in their gossamer blue and white, and one or two quite lovely. Lady
Barbara was
ravissante,
as one might expect. She is an ash blonde, and the colours
enhanced her pale elegance. She carried stephanotis. Sarah, of course, looked handsome on the
arm of her father. Brides usually do.