Lady Susan Plays the Game (10 page)

Suddenly she smiled her transfiguring smile. ‘Be a dear and hurry up. We shall both be late for church and Miss Dawlish will not be pleased.' She turned again to the glass. She was certain that the curls were too tight.

Frederica sat down, her shoulders hunched over so that they strained the layers of light material on her back. Lady Susan glanced again at her, then groaned inwardly.

‘Mama, it is Mary … Miss Manwaring's … I mean it is Sir James. He … he's behaving oddly.'

‘Well, if you mean he wanted to show you his counting horse, I know of it. A prodigy but hardly a cause for apprehension.'

‘No, but Mama, he seems to me—'

‘The horse or Sir James?'

‘Sir James, Mama, Sir James, he … he seems to be paying me attention, I mean not that I …'

Oh God
, thought Lady Susan to herself,
how did I beget such a simpleton?

‘I couldn't presume that he is … but he seems to seek me out and—'

Lady Susan could bear it no longer. ‘And what, Frederica? You mean that a young girl is sought occasionally by a young man? And this is the cause of your embarrassment and anxiety? You should be glad. I would have been at your age.'

‘No, but Mama, he is … he is … he is … well, nearly engaged to Miss Manwaring.'

‘Nearly is not really, Frederica, and engaged is not married. If this – eligible – young man is attracted to you – and I suppose this is what you are trying to say, is it? – then I suggest you be grateful. I doubt that anything of the sort happened to you in Norfolk.'

‘Oh Mama, you c-c-can't understand. It is making poor Mary unhappy, I–I–I know it.'

Lady Susan looked directly at her daughter, then laughed aloud, throwing back her head and running her hand through the curls left on her neck to loosen them. ‘My dear Frederica,' she said at last rising from her dressing table stool, ‘you are too ill versed in the way of the world to be able to judge anything of this kind. And certainly you know very little of other people. Go back to your weeds – for I assume that is what you are looking at so intently in the knot garden.'

And that was that.

About a week later, still in melancholy mood, she walked out into the shrubbery behind the house and turned down through a line of myrtles to approach a birch tree with a wooden seat around its trunk. There was Sir James.

How had he known she was coming? She looked up at the windows of the house on the west side. She thought she saw the outline of her mother but couldn't be sure. Had he followed her, then slipped around the trees to be there ahead of her? Or had he lain in wait?

‘Oh,' she gasped, ‘oh', then turned hurriedly to walk away.

‘Miss Vernon,' he cried, ‘Miss Vernon, please do stay awhile, do stay. I have something to say.'

Momentarily she stopped, then turned again to flee. But, as she moved off, he caught her wrist. His hand was pale and fat, moist on her thin glove; she pulled away but he held on. Despite his silliness, this time she grew frightened.

‘No, no, Sir James, please let me go. What are you doing? Let me go.' She was almost crying. She feared there was some manner she knew nothing of and her mother would berate her roundly for her simplicity, yet that tight hand now on her wrist was too horrible to endure.

‘Miss Vernon, you must know …' he began.

‘No, no,' she exclaimed again, pulling her hand and arm away sharply. ‘No.'

Then she scampered off, dropping her pencils as she went.

It was over in a moment and yet when she was back in her room she felt the instant had been an hour and the hand so long and heavy on her wrist that it must have left a mark on her flesh.

In the library that looked towards the shrubbery Lady Susan was flicking through a copy of the
Gentleman's Magazine
which Manwaring had brought from London and which she often read to
acquaint herself with enough news and views for light chatter. From the window she could just make out the tree seat on which her daughter had planned to sit and had observed the coming together of two people. With her weak sight she could not be sure but she surmised what was happening. She then watched as a dark smudge fled towards the house and a lighter brown and tan one moved in the opposite direction. As he came into focus she saw Sir James swipe viciously at a lavender bush on the edge of the knot garden, then stumble over a protruding stone and kick it.

She took in her breath, held it a moment, then exhaled loudly. Frederica would now be sobbing her heart out somewhere – she hoped in private. If only Sir James were not so clumsy; if only Frederica could see where her future lay. The young couple richly deserved each other but could, it seemed, do so little for themselves. It was going to be more challenging than she'd once supposed.

No doubt Mary and her gloomy mother were now thoroughly upset. If Lady Susan had seen events outside, then others with better eyes had perhaps been watching too. Things were moving too quickly on each front. She would need to calm them, pacify the house before there was an eruption that would discommode them all.

Her best tool would be Miss Dawlish. So, when they both happened one day to be embroidering alone in the downstairs front parlour and Mrs Manwaring had gone to lie down with one of her increasingly frequent headaches, she took the opportunity to speak privately to the cousin.

‘You know I am so very fond of Mrs Manwaring, dear Charlotte. We have spoken of her little problems but they are nothing to her great qualities.' She saw Jane Dawlish purse her lips. ‘She needs a little cheering and I want to do what I can. It's so easy to enforce someone's melancholy by sympathising too much, so I try to be cheerful around her. I know she dotes on her husband, and I do hope I amuse him a little for her sake.'

She looked earnestly at Miss Dawlish, then dropped her eyes to her beautiful embroidery. It displayed colourful birds of the New World and Lady Susan had been working on it for a very long time. When she raised her eyes again she thought the cousin looked perplexed.

‘I fear if we don't all entertain him he will be off shooting with his friends again and poor dear Mrs Manwaring has so little energy at the moment she would miss him terribly. She will be
better, I'm sure, soon, but we all need to help her – them – through this difficult time. I do hope I'm not speaking out of turn and you agree with me. Men are not like us, as we both know so well.'

She smiled. Of course this prim spinster didn't know; she knew about as much as Frederica though three times her age. ‘They are so easily bored,' she went on, ‘so little aware of others' needs, though sometimes good-hearted of course,' she added in that throwaway manner that made so many people believe they were her intimates.

Despite her suspicions Miss Dawlish found herself agreeing. Indeed, her cousin was too loving – anyone could see it. Once again it was hard to suppress the thought that if she, rather than Charlotte, had inherited the fortune, she would have made a better choice. She might
have taken a worthy clergyman – or, preferably, a female companion, a pleasant modest young girl with whom to chat and read. ‘It was important for my cousin to marry,' she said cautiously, ‘and of course it will be for dear Mary.'

‘Miss Dawlish, I believe you are a woman after my own heart,' responded Lady Susan. ‘As we agreed before when we had our enjoyable talk, the unmarried state, if one has enough to live on, is surely the highest for a woman. She can order her own life and do such good in a community.'

‘She can,' cried Miss Dawlish before she could stop herself. ‘I have often thought that Charlotte and I with her fortune could have made a wonderful little society of useful women.'

Great heavens
, thought Lady Susan,
she would enrol me in this spinster school if she could
. ‘And how very wonderful that would be,' she replied. ‘But alas,' she paused, ‘we must make the best of things as they are. And for Mrs Manwaring to be happy I fancy Mr Manwaring must be at home. And with matters so delicate – as far as I can judge – with Sir James and Mary, a man's presence is most necessary. To keep Mr Manwaring here we must entertain him.'

She sighed, as if to acknowledge the burden, then smiled gently at her companion, who smiled eagerly back.

The upshot was that an evening of entertainment was prescribed, a ball with some fiddles and a small collation. It would be hastily got up but, since it was full moon, it was easy to persuade neighbours to come at short notice.

The ball was ostensibly to cheer Mrs Manwaring and persuade Mr Manwaring of the delights of Langford. Less openly it was to lure Sir James back into appreciating what the family had to offer. Lady Susan had not discussed him with Miss Dawlish – it was best to avoid the subject. She must think him a fool, but perhaps the spinster had so little knowledge of men that she believed him a common specimen. Or maybe she was unimpressed with young Mary and considered it not an ill match – she didn't appear an exceptionally fond aunt. From their recent talk Lady Susan supposed that Miss Dawlish had not a lot of time for Mr Manwaring either. Certainly he had little for her.

For now Jane Dawlish was in her element; she would organise everything, consulting with her cousin only over the menu and some of the arrangements for the rooms. She loved preparing celebrations and parties and had had little chance recently to show her skill. She dashed around, not staying more than a few minutes in any one place. She went from room to room, planning diversions, getting furniture moved and tables put up. She gave orders, retracted them, then gave the same again. It was all hurry and confusion but to Jane Dawlish it was a pleasant uproar; even Mrs Manwaring showed more vitality than usual. Only Mary and Frederica in their different ways avoided the excitement, though Mary did perk up a little at the idea of wearing her new pink ball gown from London.

On the chosen night the family dined at eight, then repaired to the rooms made ready for dancing and cards. These were resplendent with flowers and candles, so that the silk-shot draperies shone in the flames and the heavy old silver ornaments glittered.

The Manwarings really were very rich. Lady Susan had not noticed, until this display of light, just how much silver and brocade some of the rooms in the older section of the house were furnished with, how much old copper rubbed and polished into shimmering yellow. All was opulent and fine: it was a shame that many of the guests would be so rustic.

Around midnight the visitors arrived, making a crowd of about fifty in all. Lady Susan stood briefly at a window looking out at the flares lighting up the knot garden. It was a beautiful sight: it reminded her of what Manwaring had married and why. She wondered what it must have been like when young Charlotte was told of her boy cousin's death and understood that she, still a boarding school miss in Bury, was heiress of all this.

Lady Susan was looking at her most dazzling. Her gown of charcoal taffeta and gauze sparkled with sequins and a delicate black lace framed her low-cut bodice. Barton had caught her fair curls in tortoiseshell combs, not too tightly this time, and she wore the necklace of emeralds that Lord Gamestone had given her; they nestled where her bosom rose above the black lace. ‘My dear Frederick made a present of them to me,' she told Mrs Manwaring when her friend admired their rich glitter. ‘In the wreck of our fortune I could not bear to part with them.'

The men, including Mr Carlton Smith, the vicar (whom Carlton Smith always resented whenever he was addressed), and the young Pallisers, gathered round her. One or two
gentlemen were particular in their compliments, but Lady Susan laughed them off, swatting them like flies from her dress. They were of no use to her and she saw that the excessive attention offended Mary – and Miss Dawlish, who sent her some glances mingling disappointment with distaste. She tried to catch the latter's eye but Miss Dawlish prevented her.

‘It's a sparkling scene,' remarked Mr Carlton Smith, his eyes trained on Lady Susan's sequinned bodice.

‘Certainly, and the Manwarings are fortunate in the night. You must have had a starlit ride.'

‘The moon was too bright,' chirped tiny Mr Sandwich and chortled good-naturedly, ‘we didn't see anything.'

Later Miss Dawlish noticed Mary, all pink and white, standing with the bored younger Palliser, who actually yawned. She had a dissatisfied expression on her face. Miss Dawlish must rescue her and try to restore the girl's good humour, or she would be in a fine pet for the rest of the week. As she walked across to her niece, she was waylaid by Lady Susan, who had deftly disentangled herself from the surrounding men.

‘Miss Dawlish,' she cried, ‘you and your cousin have excelled yourself, or rather' – she lowered her voice – ‘you have, for I know that all this is down to you. No, don't deny it.'

Still influenced by the sight of Lady Susan with her admirers, Miss Dawlish tried to repress her pleasure. ‘I am so glad you applaud it,' she said at last, a smile breaking on her face.

She continued on her way towards Mary. ‘Where is Sir James?' she enquired of her niece.

‘How would I know, Aunt, I've hardly seen him.'

Mrs Manwaring cared only for what her husband did and, since Lady Susan had ordered him to train his looks elsewhere and not address her except when absolutely necessary, he kept his distance and busied himself with the guests. She herself declared she would not dance. Why do so if Manwaring was out of bounds? ‘I am so recently a widow,' she explained to Mr Carlton Smith. ‘It's so pleasant to be here in retirement.' She smiled and
glanced sideways through her long lashes. Then she dismissed him – just that bit too quickly for his liking. Later he saw her talking to the vicar and frowned: he felt neglected.

Sir James was Lady Susan's particular duty and he had to be handled with care. He was still cross from his repulses by Frederica, whose coyness had however only heightened his desire. Indeed he'd never felt anything quite like it – his mind now a jumble of swelling bosoms, soft flesh, bridled necks and velvet mounts. Lady Susan soothed him with quiet words. She reminded him that a lady did not accept a man's attentions at first, that he must not lose heart if his heart was in the matter, and that in the meantime a gentleman must be polite to everyone.