Jane Ashford (12 page)

“I understood, madame,” continued the earl, “that your younger sister was also in London.”

Laura started. “Oh yes, Clarissa is staying with us. I shall call her. She will wish to meet you.”

Bowing, the earl signified that he would be pleased, and in a few minutes Clarissa joined them.

“How funny,” she said as she sat down, “to meet a cousin one has never seen before.”

“Second cousin,” corrected Eliot gravely.

Laura made a choking noise.

It was one of the longest half hours she could remember. The earl was not only fairly unintelligent, he was also a prosy bore. And he seemed to feel that his own opinions had a force and rightness denied anyone else’s. Several times she feared that Eliot was about to give him a severe setdown, and indeed she hardly could have blamed him.

Their guest devoted himself to Clarissa after she came down. The girl’s eyes danced as she responded to his cumbersome gallantries, and often she glanced toward Laura to share the joke. His attentions were so marked that Eliot commented quietly, “Your cousin has clearly come to London to capture Clarissa.”

Laura’s eyes widened. “Oh no.”

Eliot gestured toward the other couple. “Perhaps he has decided that it is his duty to marry a Lindley to compensate you for the loss of the title and the estate.”

“Ridiculous,” answered the girl, smiling. “He could not.”

Eliot merely gestured again.

When the earl rose to take his leave after his rather long visit, there was a general feeling of relief. He bowed to the Crenshaws, then turned to Clarissa and said, “If you care to come down with me, I can show you my team. I drove my curricle here.”

Throwing a helpless glance at Laura, Clarissa agreed.

When they were gone, Laura sank back on the sofa. “I thought he would never go,” she exclaimed.

Eliot smiled. “He seemed to me an excellent young man, very conscious of his position and duties. I daresay he will make Clarissa an exemplary husband.”

Laura gasped. “Oh you are joking.” She shook her head. “I nearly laughed aloud when he told you that you should most certainly find the time to visit the British Museum. Your expression was so funny.”

“I daresay it was,” replied Eliot, smiling in his turn. “But you see, no one has ever suggested such a thing to me before.”

Laura gave a peal of laughter. “Did you hear him offer to take Clarissa there to show her the old manuscripts? She was forced to tell him that she is allergic to dust of all sorts.”

“No, did she?” asked her husband appreciatively. “Clarissa is a very resourceful girl. I have always thought so, and this confirms it. It was a master stroke.”

Laura was overcome by her laughter for a moment, and Eliot watched her with an interested smile. When she could control herself, she gasped, “I beg your pardon, but I have been restraining myself for so long. I cannot help but laugh. He is really a very estimable man, of course.”

Eliot nodded. “Very. You know,” he added, “I don’t believe I ever have seen you laugh so much.”

Clarissa came back into the room at that moment, sputtering, “His team! He calls a pair of the most obvious slugs I have ever seen a team. And he has asked me to go out driving with him on Saturday. What am I to do?”

Laura’s eyes danced. “Whatever do you mean, Clarissa? I thought him an unexceptionable young man.”

“A model of propriety,” agreed her husband. “And he seemed quite struck with you, Clarissa. If you can only curb the natural levity of your character, you may have a chance at becoming a countess.”

Clarissa was aghast. “You must be joking?” Laura could not restrain a choke of laughter, and her sister whirled. “You are roasting me,” she said. “Both of you. And it is too bad. Did I not relieve you of the burden of talking to the earl for quite twenty minutes?”

Eliot appeared much struck. “I had not thought of it in just that way. You are right. Accept my sincere thanks.”

This sent both girls off into ringing laughter, and Eliot watched them with a smile and an arrested expression in his eyes.

By the time she recovered her composure, Laura had forgotten the discomforts of their earlier talk, and she went upstairs with Clarissa quite happily, bidding Eliot a cheerful good night.

The dinner with Mr. Redmon was Laura’s first entertainment in her new home. Because of Clarissa’s anxiety, the preparations were complicated by too much supervision and, often, conflicting orders. This, on top of Laura’s unease about Eliot, which had come rushing back as soon as she was alone, made her tense on Friday evening. At seven, as she stood in her drawing room in a gown of pale cream color trimmed in lace, she almost wished that this dinner were over, or had never been planned.

Since their shared laughter, Laura had been rather ashamed of her petulant defiance of Eliot. In fact she had gone so far as to write a note to Mr. Allenby canceling their engagement for the masquerade, though she had not yet found an opportunity to send it.

Eliot came in before Clarissa. “Good evening,” he said. “You are looking beautiful, as ever.”

“Thank you.”

“I have not asked you who our guests are tonight.”

Laura raised her eyebrows. “I did tell you. It is Mr. Redmon.”

He looked surprised. “The marquess?”

Laura glanced toward the door apprehensively, but there was as yet no sign of Clarissa. “Yes, but Clarissa knows him as
Mr.
Redmon. I told you of it.” He still frowned in puzzlement, so she repeated the story of Mr. Redmon’s request.

When she finished, his expression had lightened, but he still looked puzzled. “An absurd scheme. Someone will certainly find him out. I had not thought him such a nodcock.” He shrugged. “But if Redmon wishes to play silly games, I suppose he may do so. It is not as if he were pretending to be a marquess when he is not. It must have been amazingly difficult to assemble a party who would not spoil the secret.”

“Oh there is no one else. Only Mr. Redmon.”

Eliot frowned. “Only Redmon. You mean to say it is just the four of us?”

“Yes.”

He stared at her. “But why? This is most unsuitable.”

“Unsuitable?” echoed Laura. “But you are here, and they are chaperoned…” She trailed off uncertainly under his stern gaze.

“My dear Laura, one does not invite a young unmarried man to a family dinner, especially in such a small group as ours, unless he is pretty firmly expected to become a member of it very soon. Indeed the very high sticklers would not do so until an engagement is actually announced. It is a clear signal that you want him for Clarissa. You are encouraging her to set her cap at him in the most blatant way. How could you be so heedless?”

“I am not. I did not mean anything of the kind,” retorted the girl, putting her hands to cheeks that blazed with embarrassment. “I did not think. I see now that it is very particular, but I promise you I did not plan it. Clarissa wished to invite him, and I agreed.”

“If you are to allow yourself to be guided by Clarissa, we shall be at point nonplus before we know it.”

Laura’s hands fell; her eyes began to snap. “Well I do not allow it, as you know very well. This was my mistake. I did not think.”

“That is obvious.” He glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. “Well it is too late now to get anyone else. He will be arriving at any moment. But please, in future, Laura, consult me or someone else about these matters. You are not at all up to snuff yet, clearly. You must subdue your pride and your temper and allow wiser heads to advise you. Lady Quale would be delighted to help I am sure. As an old friend of your aunts, she is eminently suited to the task.” He looked about the room. “We must simply carry it off as well as we can. Redmon will be surprised, I daresay.”

This lecture, with the mention of the interfering Lady Quale, had completed the arousal of Laura’s anger. The despair she had been feeling seemed to burn away. She wished desperately to make a cutting rejoinder, to put him in his place and destroy his smug superiority, but she could think of none.

She started to speak, but seeing her expression, Eliot held up a hand. “Let it be,” he said. “We shall brush through it, I daresay.”

Laura felt this to be the final insult. To be patronized after all that had happened. A stinging response was on her lips, but at that moment Mr. Dunham announced Mr. Redmon and she was forced to hold her tongue.

It was thus a seething hostess who greeted their guest. She left Eliot to make conversation with the younger man, who did seem rather embarrassed, whether because he found himself the sole guest or because he had difficulty chatting with a man ten years older than himself.

Laura listened silently to several minutes of discussion of a team Mr. Redmon had recently purchased for his curricle. She was surprised to see the marquess, who was, after all, something of an expert on horses, hang on her husband’s opinions with a respect bordering on reverence.

She was just about to go in search of Clarissa when the girl came in at last. And Laura had to admit that she had used the extra time to some purpose. Clarissa had chosen a gown of deep gold satin, one of her newest and finest toilettes. The vibrant color, far from overwhelming her complexion, seemed to accentuate it, and her skin glowed softly. Her hair was in curls and her eyes sparkling. Flecks of gold seemed to dance in their black depths, reflected from the dress perhaps.

Altogether she was an entrancing sight, and Mr. Redmon was affected just as she must have hoped he would be. For a moment he seemed rooted to the floor. His jaw dropped slightly, and his eyes widened. But when Laura said, “Good evening, Clarissa. Our guest is before you,” in a tone of mild reproof, he started.

“Good evening, Miss Lindley,” he blurted, coming forward eagerly. “By Jove, you look lovely.”

Clarissa smiled up at him in a way that made Laura want to both laugh and reprimand her for posing. “Thank you,” she said softly. “I am sorry I kept you waiting.”

As Mr. Redmon stammered out a denial, Laura did smile. Clearly Clarissa was pulling out all the stops tonight. She raised her eyes to share the joke with Eliot, but he was not looking at her. His gaze was on the clock, which now registered fifteen minutes past the dinner hour. Laura’s smile faded, and she turned to look for Mr. Dunham. He was standing in the corridor outside, and she gave him the signal. He announced dinner, and the group went in, she on Eliot’s arm and Clarissa on Mr. Redmon’s.

“You ought to have taken Redmon’s arm,” said Eliot under his breath as they followed the other couple. “And can you not control your sister? She is being rather obvious.”

Laura’s temper flared again. She could scarcely control her voice as she replied, “You exaggerate.” He would have said more, but she pulled away as they entered the dining room and slipped into her chair unaided.

Laura did not particularly enjoy her dinner. The table and the flowers were perfect, the capons done to a turn, and the roast beef juicy. And if the conversation was not over-lively, her guest at least seemed to find no fault. But whenever she met her husband’s eyes down the length of the table, she felt angry and upset again. Why must he treat her so?

The younger couple did most of the talking. Mr. Redmon had begun by apologizing again, and at some length, for hurrying away from their last encounter. Clarissa accepted his excuses gracefully, then adroitly turned the conversation to horses once more. Soon he was reciting the good points of his new team to her, in a much more animated tone than he had used with Eliot, and she was suitably admiring. It came out that she had always preferred the curricle to all other vehicles and had often wished she could drive such an equipage.

“Really, Miss Lindley?” responded Mr. Redmon on cue. “I should be happy to teach you to drive. With your sister’s permission, of course,” he added, looking toward Laura.

Clarissa also turned to her, an unmistakable signal in her eyes, and Laura gave her consent. She did not look at Eliot. If he disapproved, she did not wish to know of it.

The remainder of the meal was taken up with the young people’s enthusiastic plans for driving lessons. By the time Laura rose to leave the gentlemen, she had developed a severe headache and wished nothing more than to go to her bedchamber and lie down in quiet darkness. Instead she had to accompany Clarissa to the drawing room and endure half an hour of her praises of Mr. Redmon. She stood it as long as she could, but at last her patience was exhausted and she snapped, “Oh, cut line, Clarissa. Must you make such a cake of yourself?”

Her sister’s head jerked up, and she stared at Laura. “What do you mean?”

Laura made a sweeping gesture. “The way you are behaving, your dress, everything. Must you be so very obvious? Even Eliot noticed it.”

A wave of color washed over the younger girl’s cheeks, but she said only, “Noticed what? I do not understand you.”

“Do you not?” replied Laura skeptically. “I will make my meaning more plain then. Eliot thinks you are blatantly setting your cap at Mr. Redmon.”

Clarissa put her hands to her cheeks, but her eyes flared. “What a horrid thing to say.”

Laura raised her eyebrows. “But true?”

“No!” Clarissa’s hands fell to be clenched in her lap. “Not at all. I am doing nothing of the kind.”

“Then appearances are deceptive,” shrugged Laura, “because it certainly did look that way.”

“Oh, why are you being so abominable?” cried the younger girl. “Can you not imagine feeling a strong liking for a man and wishing to show it?”

“After talking to him for perhaps two hours in my life?” asked Laura. “No, I fear I cannot. Clarissa, I tell you again that you hardly know this man. You have always been heedless and impetuous, but in this case I beg you to try for a little restraint. Brazen behavior will only give Mr. Redmon a distaste for you.”

Clarissa colored again. “That is what you think then?” she answered. “That I am being brazen. Or I should say that is what you
and
Eliot think. He is turning you into just such a cold fish as himself. I will not listen to this talk of restraint and calm judgment. I know my own feelings, and I fancy I can guess at Mr. Redmon’s. I despise this hypocrisy of coolness and convention, and if you ever had been in love, so would you too, Laura.” With this she turned away and walked over to the fireplace to lean her head against the mantel.

Before Laura could reply, the gentlemen entered the room and she was forced to make light conversation when she felt anything but sociable. Clarissa said little at first, but soon Mr. Redmon had drawn her into another discussion of driving and she regained her spirits. Eliot, after watching them for a moment, came to sit beside Laura on the sofa.

“What is the matter?” he said to her when he had watched her face for a time. “You are upset.”

“It is nothing.”

He bent his head a little to see her face. “I cannot believe it while you look like that. Did Clarissa upset you?” When she said nothing, he continued. “You tried to reprimand her, I suppose, and she lashed out. She is very hot at hand, your sister.”

“She is utterly trustworthy,” retorted Laura hotly, quick to defend her sister against anyone else’s criticism. “She will not disgrace you.”

He raised his eyebrows. “I have no fear of that. You misunderstood me if you think I do. I merely wish to guard her from any hurt or embarrassment that might arise from the too obvious display of her feelings.”

“Yes,” replied Laura bitterly, “one mustn’t display feelings. Not that, at all costs.”

Preoccupied, Eliot missed the barb and, evidently thinking the topic exhausted, turned to another question. “You know, Laura,” he continued, “I was thinking during dinner that it might be wise for me to invite my mother to stay for the season. You like her, I know. And she is just the person to give you a hint now and then about how to go on. I daresay she could exert better control over Clarissa too. In fact I cannot imagine why I did not think of the scheme ere now. It seems ideal.”

Laura’s chin had come up, and she was gazing at Eliot angrily. “Oh?” she replied with false sweetness. “Am I to be consulted then?”

He raised his eyebrows at her tone. “Of course.”

“Well
I
should prefer that she not visit at this time.”

“I thought you were fond of my mother.”

“I am,” said Laura. She raised her eyes to his. “But I am not in need of a chaperone or of help in controlling, as you put it, my sister.”

“I see.” He paused for a moment, then went on. “Do you know, I have seen a great many people come to town for their first season, and invariably, when they have been kept on a tight rein by their parents, they spend the first weeks indulging in all manner of escapades. They wish to show the world, you see, that they are free and well able to manage themselves. Most come to grief in one way or another.”

Laura merely looked stonily ahead. She refused to give him the satisfaction of seeming to understand what he meant.

“A few,” Eliot continued, “ruin themselves utterly, but most simply learn a valuable lesson. I have always thought it a great waste that each crop of youngsters must go through the same follies. But they never listen to wiser heads.”

Goaded by his tone, Laura snapped, “As you did, no doubt.”

Eliot looked down at her and, surprisingly, smiled. “Oh no. I was as foolish and headstrong as the worst of them. I fell into scrape after scrape, some of them quite unpleasant and mortifying. That is why I wish to offer my advice, I suppose. I really do know how it is.”

Somewhat mollified, Laura said, “Perhaps it is the way you offer it. You seem so certain that you are right and others are wrong.”

He smiled again. “Ah, but that is so often true.” His eyes invited her to smile with him, but she resisted.

“Such a superior attitude can set up people’s backs,” she answered, trying to make him understand.

But he was disinterested. “I haven’t time for dissimulation. There is a right way and a wrong way to go about things, Laura, and I admit that it tries my patience when someone blindly refuses to acknowledge the former.”

“Which is your way,” added Laura.

“Many times, yes.”

“Not always,” she answered between her teeth.

He looked at her, perplexed. “It is obvious that you think so, at any rate. Do you not see that that is why I wished to invite my mother? I do not want to be always correcting you, Laura, and acting like a guardian. We can have an easier relationship.”