Carola Dunn (21 page)

“You mean you just read him a lecture and his disposition miraculously changed?”

“Oh, no! You should have heard him denouncing the servants when I left! And he was not at all polite to begin with. I think it gave him such a shock when, instead of withering, I drew the curtains and invited him to go out, that he could not think of anything else to do. And once we were outside, we went on famously. It is most fortunate that it happens to be a beautiful day.’’

“Lyn, you are not hoaxing me? You know, Dom always said Papa was not nearly such a dragon if one squared up to him. Only Mama never did, and she said it was unladylike to brangle and brawl, so I never got in the way of it.”

“Look where defiance took Dom! But I shall not land in the suds like that because I am not given to making wild pronouncements and then insisting on carrying them through. It is a very lucky thing that females are expected to change their minds. I have frequently thought so.”

“You don’t suppose you could persuade Papa to be reconciled with Dom? And to let me marry Gerald?”

“Anything is possible and I am perfectly willing to try, but as your papa said, we must take things gradually. After all, all he has done is open the windows and admit that he was unreasonably angry this morning. It is an excellent start, but I confess I shall be excessively surprised if he should go so far as to apologise to you.”

“I do not expect it. Oh dear, I suppose I must apologise to Mrs Daventry.”

“Well, I do think she owes you an apology for bearing tales, but it will be much more comfortable in the end if you make the first move. Let us go and get it over with at once.”

Mrs Daventry was very ready to be conciliated. She even ventured to hint delicately at the mildest possible criticism of Lord Grisedale.

“Dear Lady Elizabeth,” she gushed, “I never dreamed for a moment that your papa could have any objection to your expedition and indeed I am still quite unable to guess at the reason for his disapproval but you are too good-natured to suppose that I should have breathed a word had I been able to foresee his reaction for I am sure . . .”

She rattled on, every word making Angel the more certain that she had acted out of spite. Presumably she had genuinely not foreseen Beth’s anger, and her present anxiety could be put down to the fear of losing all influence over her charge.

Growing impatient, Angel interrupted to ask Beth to walk with her in the garden. Mrs Daventry soon grew bored and left them, and the rest of the morning passed more pleasantly than seemed possible considering the earlier upsets. A footman came to call them to luncheon, and they went in reluctantly.

The earl joined them for the repast. He was astonishingly genial towards the two young ladies, and ignored Mrs Daventry completely, perhaps having decided to blame her for the entire fracas. The poor woman dared open her mouth only to fill it, and Angel almost found herself pitying her.

That afternoon, Angel and Beth rode down to Ullswater to meet Lord Dominic. He had been out on the lake in Gerald’s boat, rowing Osa up and down the shallows.

“Take us out, oh, please take us out!” cried Angel.

“There is not room for both of you as well as Osa, and if I leave her behind she howls. I’ll take you one day, Linnet.”

“Does rowing not hurt you?” asked Beth.

“No, scarcely at all. It does not seem to strain my leg. In fact I can almost feel it growing stronger.’’

Angel extracted a promise that he would take her boating next week without fail, as well as go with them on the trip to see Mrs Leigh. Then she told him about her encounter with his father. He congratulated her but was not unduly surprised at her success.

“I can see that you have been truckling to his every capricious freak,” he said severely to Beth. “You know that is not the way to go on with him.”

“I’m very sorry, Dom,” apologised Beth meekly.

“She is doing the very same thing with you!” accused Angel. “I am glad that Mr Leigh is not of a similar tyrannical disposition!”

“Do you think me tyrannical then?”

“Not to me. I have never learned to truckle, and it is impossible to be a tyrant if your victim will not submit.”

“I fear it is too late for me to reform,” said Beth.

“Never mind,” consoled Angel. “When you are married to kind, gentle Gerald, it will not matter in the least. By the way, Dom, are you and Mr Leigh invited to dine at Upthwaite? Lord Welch has invited me and the Suttons and Beth and Sir Gregory.”

“Yes, he asked both of us. Knowing, I am sure, that Gerald has a parish meeting every Friday evening. I shall be there though.”

“Good. Then there will not be an excess of females, which is a thing I abhor.”

* * * *

Lord Welch’s dinner party started off badly. Mr and Mrs Sutton scarcely knew him, had not been favourably impressed at their few meetings, and had only been persuaded to accept by considerations of politeness. The viscount’s effusive welcome did nothing to banish their reserve. He seemed unaware of it, possibly considering it a manifestation of the deference due to his exalted rank.

Lord Dominic was next to arrive. He laughingly apologised to the vicar and his wife for having previously been introduced to them under an alias. They were rather shocked to hear both Catherine and Angel address him simply as “Dom,” even when it was explained to them as a precaution against accidental disclosure of his identity. Nor were they best pleased to find the young man on such intimate terms with their niece.

Mrs Sutton was about to turn to Catherine for reassurance on this point, when Sir Gregory arrived, alone.

“Where is Beth?” demanded Angel.

“Lady Elizabeth is, ah, indisposed, and begs you to excuse her,” said the baronet blandly, directing his words at his host.

A look of fury crossed Lord Welch’s face. It was plain as a pikestaff to most of those present that he considered her absence a direct snub. He recovered his countenance immediately and hoped politely that her ladyship was not seriously unwell, a possibility which Sir Gregory denied with unnecessary vigour.

“Not at all,” he assured. “A slight headache, I believe she mentioned, or some such thing.”

The viscount was an abstracted host. Lord Dominic and Angel spoke to Sir Gregory as little as common courtesy permitted. All in all it was not a convivial evening, and the party broke up early.

Sir Gregory rode beside the vicarage gig, homeward bound, and Angel abandoned mistrust and dislike long enough to enquire whether Beth was truly in good frame.

“Certainly, Miss Brand. I believe she is playing a game of draughts with my uncle. I have to thank you for an extraordinary transformation on that score. Had I dreamed so simple a cure was possible I’d have tried it months ago.”

“Lyn told us she had reformed Lord Grisedale,” said Mrs Sutton. “The improvement is lasting then? She used precisely the methods I had advocated.”

“I told him it was all your idea, Aunt Maria. Or at least that you said he should not lurk in that gloomy cave. I think I shall go and see him tomorrow morning, to make sure he has not relapsed.”

Aunt Maria was by no means equally approving of Angel’s relationship with Lord Grisedale’s son. When they reached the vicarage and Sir Gregory had gone on his way, she tackled the subject.

“Angel dear, I did not like to see you so much in Lord Dominic’s pocket this evening. I am sure you are not aware how particular it looks, but you know your intimacy with his sister cannot excuse familiarity with his lordship.”

“I am afraid I am at fault, Mother,” put in Catherine apologetically. “I have been too preoccupied with my own affairs to be a proper companion to Angel. I had not realised she was seeing so much of Dom.”

“Yet you too call him Dom. I cannot think it proper!”

“There is no impropriety, I promise. I believe he looks on me as a sort of aunt.”

“He does not look on me as an aunt!” exclaimed Angel. “You do not understand how desperate it is. I have only two more weeks!”

“Then it is not merely a flirtation,” said Mrs Sutton slowly. “Oh, dear! Have you any reason to suppose that he thinks of you seriously?”

“That is just what Catherine asked, and the answer is still no. He likes me, I know he does, though we often argue, but he has never tried to kiss me or . . . or anything.”

“I should hope not!” Catherine was scandalised. “He’s an honourable gentleman!”

“A great many gentlemen have tried to kiss me, I assure you, and some of them succeeded. It is quite commonplace when one is a reigning Beauty.”

“But it is no guide to serious intentions, I think,” pointed out Aunt Maria gently. “Well, I am exceedingly sorry to learn that things are at such a pass, but in the circumstances I will only beg you not to allow your feelings to betray you into any ruinous indiscretion, Angel. I hope and believe I may trust in your commonsense and your duty to yourself and your family. Good night, my loves.”

Both Catherine and Angel prepared for bed in thoughtful silence.

“I thought Aunt Maria would lock me up,” said Angel as they climbed into bed.

“That is not her way, nor Papa’s. They think only freedom can teach responsibility. I have always done my best to deserve their trust.”

“I shall too.”

Catherine blew out the candle.

“Angel, have you truly been kissed by a number of gentlemen?”

“Yes. But Aunt Maria is right, it is no sign of serious intentions.’’

There was another silence.

“It is perfectly horrid to be in love and not to know,” Angel uttered presently in a despairing voice.

“Isn’t it?” agreed Catherine.

Chapter 17

Beth had not seen Mrs Leigh in over three years and was decidedly nervous at the prospect.

“Suppose she takes me in dislike!” she wailed to Angel when the landau picked up the vicarage ladies on Monday morning. Mr Sutton and Sir Gregory were riding ahead down the narrow lane towards Patterdale, where they were to meet Gerald.

“Why should she do that?” asked Angel in surprise. “I thought you were already acquainted.”

“Yes, but I was a child then, and now I want to marry her son.”

“She can have no reason to object to that, surely! You are above him in both rank and fortune.”

“There are other considerations, Lyn,” suggested Aunt Maria. “Mrs Leigh might for instance doubt whether Lady Elizabeth will be of assistance to her son in his profession. I shall endeavour to convince her to the contrary, for Clement often speaks of how conscientious she is about visiting dependents and the poor and the sick.”

“Thank you, ma’am, you are very kind. I daresay I am being stupidly gooseish to worry so. Only what if she takes exception to Papa being so horrid to Gerald?”

Mrs Sutton, Catherine, and Angel hastened to reassure her on that and every other head, and by the time they arrived at the appointed meeting place she was able to greet her beloved cheerfully.

Mr Sutton, boasting of having been a famous oarsman in his youth, took one pair of oars in the hired boat. Sir Gregory and Mr Leigh took up the others, while the ladies arranged themselves on well-cushioned seats, parasols held aloft. Angel took charge of steering, which was accomplished with a pair of ropes ingeniously attached to the rudder and leading thence to the rear seat. Before they had rowed a hundred feet she had them going round in circles. Gerald clambered precariously past the voyagers and removed the rudder from its slot.

“We will steer with the oars,” he said severely.

Since the gentlemen were, of course, all facing backwards, this involved a great deal of clamour from the ladies.

‘‘Left a bit!’’

“A bit more.”

“That is too far, go back!”

“Why can you not row in a straight line?”

“Now right!”

“No, Lyn, that’s left!”

Their zigzag course seriously discommoded a pair of ducks, which fled squawking into the rushes. Then it was discovered that neither Mr Sutton nor Sir Gregory, though pulling away with a will, was precisely sure which oar to pull on to turn in a given direction. Mr Sutton, already slightly winded, was retired to the replaced rudder, which he promised he could manage. A few minutes of intensive coaching sorted out the baronet’s ideas, and at last they proceeded at a reasonable speed towards the spot where they were to pick up Lord Dominic.

Dom was waiting, for once without Osa. Gerald had succeeded in persuading him that to add a large and lively dog to a cargo of novice boaters was to invite disaster. He waved and called from the shore, and then was very soon helpless with laughter as two flustered gentlemen with oars, one with a rudder, a young lady with a paddle, and another wielding a boathook attempted to bring the rocking skiff close enough for him to step in. Mrs Sutton saved the day by tossing a rope to him.

Under Angel’s anxious eye, Lord Dominic took up the third pair of oars. She pushed off with the boathook, and once they had struggled away from the bank and the shallows, it became plain that rowing in deep water was altogether an easier matter. Mr Sutton was even permitted to take another turn at the oars when Sir Gregory complained of developing blisters. Angel found it excessively difficult to keep a straight face as the tall, lanky vicar and the taller, broad-shouldered baronet cautiously changed places, creeping past each other like a pair of beetles on a narrow grass blade.

Lord Dominic seemed to be rowing easily and without strain. Noticing Angel’s watchful regard, he smiled at her.

“I am allowing the others to do most of the work, Miss Brand,” he told her, “but I assure you there is no cause for concern. I have been out in Gerald’s boat as often as possible for the last couple of weeks, you know. My only problem is that my shoulders are developing so that my coats begin to be too tight!”

“Then you will soon be in the first stare of fashion,” she answered, “and without using buckram or wadding.”

“But, like me, Dominic prefers comfort to alamodaliry,” put in Mr Leigh.

All too soon the boat ride came to an end, and they pulled up to a small jetty where a manservant waited to help them disembark. Beth was once more in a quake.