The Imaginary Gentleman (24 page)

He was half-sitting in the bed, sweat dripping from him.

“Edward, what is it?”

“What? Who?”

He felt her arms go around him, as she knelt in the bed. Evalina!

“My God—I haven't dreamt of it in months.” Unthinking, he touched the healed stump of his arm.

“Evalina! Forgive me.”

“You ask forgiveness for having a nightmare, Edward!” She had drawn him close to her, so that some of his weight was taken on her slender frame.

“I must have given you a dreadful shock, my darling girl.”

“I am not a baby, Edward.”

“It is my duty to protect you from fear, not to create it.”

“Hush.” She stopped his lips with her own. “What was my fright to what you must have felt.”

“It was nothing much,” he said, beginning to laugh.

They collapsed back upon the pillows.

“Do you know Fanny Charman asked First Lieutenant Mitchell about … that day and he said you did not even cry out. This has made a splendid impression upon her.”

He laughed then, in earnest. “You know that I was gagged.”

“Of course I do, but don't imagine that I told Miss Charman so.”

She smiled to herself in the darkness. Some day she would tell Edward of the conversation she had with her father, after they first made the captain's acquaintance. She had asked the colonel if he thought the captain very brave. He had said “Bravery is nothing. Courage is the thing. When you are afraid and still you do not flinch—that is courage.” She asked him then did he think the captain had been afraid when he knew that the surgeon must remove his injured arm. “Are you mad, Evvy? He has a brain! Still, I heard that even as they prepared the knife, he smiled at the lowering of the French flag.” Silly Papa, she thought. He should not have talked so of Edward if he wanted her to marry the cousin.

“Edward?” she said. “When will Laura marry your cousin?”

“Soon. I hope.”

“Do you think they will be as happy as we are?”

“Nobody else can be so happy.”

She laughed, gratified, and kissed him. She snuggled into his shoulder and felt her eyelids droop. In a matter of a moment or two, she slept.

Edward lay awake for a little longer. Throughout the war, he would leap across to another deck, sword raised ready to strike, feeling no fear of the weapons in the hands of his foes. He felt only a gulp of surprise when he saw the French sailor come from behind with cutlass raised.

Yet that terror, when he swam out of unconsciousness to see the surgeon's knife glinting, was something he had wanted to keep from Evalina. Almost without knowing it, he had feared the lessening of Evalina's love should she discover him capable of fear.

He wished there could be such happiness as this for his sister. That she should have the joy of discovering the depths and secrets of someone drawn to her by fate. He deliberately drew up the memory of Laura in tiara and lace, at her loveliest, admired and respected by all. He felt sure that she would come to love Oakmont with much of the fervour felt by her husband to be.

L
AURA FELT THE THRILL OF
escape, when the party left the stultifying air of Oakmont, bent upon adventure. Mrs. Evans had decided that Laura and Mrs. Bell would travel in the baronet's carriage, while she occupied the barouche with the countess.

The journey was to be broken into two days owing to their late departure. At Exeter, they halted to buy more materials for the banners. The purchases completed, the baronet suggested a short walk, then a luncheon, before they continued their journey.

The ladies accompanied Sir Richard into a lane off High Street, where he pointed up to a carving high on the crumbling wall of a house. The countess seemed unable to share his excitement as she studied the broken emblem.

“Do you not see?” said Sir Richard. “This is the bottom left-hand side of the Morrison crest! This place once housed Sir Belvedere Morrison—younger brother of Sir William. He was a knight attendant upon the Queen!”

“Oh yes!” said Mrs. Bell, breathlessly. “I see it!”

“What a clever little love you are!” cried Lady Clarydon, glancing at Elspeth, who smothered a laugh. Mrs. Bell seemed not to hear her, and Laura was struck by the glowing expression in the lady's eyes. She noted that the target of Mrs. Bell's gaze was not the broken masonry but Sir Richard himself, as he used his stick to sketch in the air the missing parts of the crest. He caught that look—indeed he could hardly help doing so—and returned it with an expression much like fervent admiration. The entire group fell silent. He lowered his arm absently, coughed and tore his gaze away.

With a satirical look at her friend, Elspeth said, “We thank you for the wonderful history lesson, Cousin!”

“Fascinating!” said Lady Clarydon. “You have put me in mind to investigate the dear earl's relics, Sir Richard. I am sure Lord Clarydon
will be delighted with such advice as you might give him in digging up the more … elusive clues to his family's past.”

Elspeth had to turn away, as she could not keep her countenance, but Sir Richard, quite unaware of her ladyship's mockery, thanked her warmly. A brief look of resentment, which passed over Mrs. Bell's face, did not escape Laura's notice.

“Shall we continue our journey?” said Elspeth and, in silent assent, they walked back to the inn. Elspeth and the countess were arm in arm in the lead, their heads together while they giggled. Laura took the baronet's arm, and Mrs. Bell, avoiding all eyes, trailed in the rear.

 

Laura could do nothing to lighten the strained atmosphere in Sir Richard's carriage. Mrs. Bell gazed through the window, having seemingly resolved not to look in the gentleman's direction. From the baronet's expression, Laura surmised that he felt remorse for his unguarded moment.

In fact, Sir Richard felt guilty of a serious dereliction of duty owing to his betrothed. His solution was to not look at Mrs. Bell at all, and to frequently smile and nod to his cousin. Laura's expression he felt unqualified to read—alternately he thought her sad, puzzled, irritated and, once or twice, wryly amused.

In fact, he read her correctly. One feeling tumbled upon another and she had not the strength to pretend otherwise. She looked sidelong at Mrs. Bell's profile, for she stared fixedly out of the window, tension showing in her cheek. What is to be done? Laura thought. Can they be in love? Everyone is falling in love around me.

She gave a hollow laugh, and Sir Richard chuckled quietly in encouragement. Mrs. Bell's eyes flickered over to the baronet, their eyes briefly met and Laura caught a kind of terror in the gentleman's look.

This is horrible—madness! thought Laura.

All three stared fixedly out of the windows. The air was thick with emotion but at least Laura could refuse to look at her travelling companions. After ten minutes or so, in spite of herself, she turned her
head back to look at them, and saw that Sir Richard's gaze had moved to Mrs. Bell, who did not return it, yet slowly a deep blush spread over her cheeks.

They halted in Honiton, where they were to lodge overnight at the inn. The party settled into a narrow, draughty room, while they waited for refreshments. Lady Clarydon yawned and Elspeth followed suit. Sir Richard opened his mouth to speak, failed and picked up the newspaper. The ladies made the occasional innocuous remark, until Sir Richard cried: “Here it is!” He pointed to the announcements of marriages in his newspaper.

“Very satisfactory, Richard,” said Elspeth.

“There's an editor's note!”

He looked around in delight. “What do you think of that?”

“Let me see it for myself, Richard,” said Laura, coming to the table.

“It's wonderful, Cousin,” said Elspeth. “What think you, Countess?”

“It will be the talk of drawing rooms all over our great country.”

“I fear none of you will wish to know me now you are to be famous!”

Everyone laughed; it was their first moment of cheer since Edward's wedding.

Buoyed by this pleasant diversion, they sat down to dine. Her ladyship had ordered a good array of dishes and they ate well.

“My friends,” said the countess. Every face turned to her. “I have heard from the earl and he particularly desires me to call upon a friend in Lyme before we carry on to Clarydon Castle.”

Laura felt the blood drain from her cheeks.

“My dear Countess!” cried Elspeth. “Impossible!”

The countess gestured to the maid. “Pray serve some of that excellent pie to the gentleman.” The girl folded her apron in her hands and picked up the hot dish to take it to the other end of the table.

“We were … um … eager to see Clarydon Castle,” said Sir Richard.

The countess looked from one to other of them. “Are you equally prejudiced against the place, Miss Morrison?”

On hearing the name, the maid serving them almost dropped the dish of pie as she lowered it to the table, and cried out as the hot vessel burned her hand.

Elspeth said, “Clumsy girl! Know you not how to attend to your betters?”

“Sister!” said Laura. “Do not be so hard upon her.” She turned to the servant. “Are you hurt? Let me see it.”

“Miss Morrison is the soul of kindness,” said the countess, as the girl approached Laura.

Laura laughed at the awed look on the girl's face. “I am not very famous!” She turned over the injured hand. “You have burned yourself. Find my maid, Miss Sarah Jones, and tell her I wish her to tend you. She is very skillful for one so young.”

“Thank'ee, Miss.”

“Off you go then.”

Taking action on this small matter somehow gave Laura courage. As soon as the meal was over, she excused herself, went to her room and wrote a letter to Sir Richard.

In the parlour, Laura found the party seated in discomfort upon the heavy benches by the fire, while Lady Clarydon presided from the only armchair. In Laura's absence, they had fallen in with the countess's plans. Again, Laura found her movements arranged for her. Of all the party, she would be likely to have the strongest objection, yet no one thought seriously to consult her. Her pride revolted at the opportunity placed before the people of Lyme to laugh at her again, though it would most likely be behind their hands when she was under the countess's protection.

 

Sir Richard bade the others goodnight rather early, and Laura made haste to follow him. Coming from the parlour, Laura found the passage was dark. She made out the figure of her cousin, silhouetted against the light cast by a lantern. She called softly, “Richard!”

He turned and she could not see his face in the dimness. He walked back to her and she handed him the letter.

“Laura, what …?” he began to say.

She placed her fingers on her lips and looked back at the sitting-room door. She spoke in an urgent whisper. “Not now, Richard. Pray read it and wait until we can speak alone.”

He nodded slowly.

“Do not speak of it before my brother and sister, Richard!”

He reached for her hand, but she withdrew it before he could grasp it.

“No.”

Muffled conversation echoed in the passage, perhaps carried up the stairs or from their sitting room.

“Good night,” she said, and he heard the silken wavelets of her skirt swish by him as she hastened away.

Sir Richard stood there. Some member of their party was coming—he heard the sound of the parlour door. It opened and, in the light spilling into the passage, he saw Mrs. Bell barely five paces from him. Coming into the dimness of the passage, she did not see him and turned to close the parlour door. He held his breath, frozen, then hastily put the letter in his pocket. The slight movement revealed his presence and she stopped; then took a step in his direction. He reached out his hand to her. She did not speak, but scurried away, only the fringes of her dark shawl tapped against his hand as she passed him.