Captain Ingram's Inheritance (22 page)

 “Is it not natural,” she said tentatively, “for a husband to...to bother his wife?”

 “Natural?” Lady Vincent blinked at her. “You cannot...Not married...But men...Such nasty creatures...At my age...To put up with...Unspeakable...Quite impossible...”

 Despite her sheltered life, Constantia had some understanding of relations between the sexes, though ignorant of the most intimate details. The only marriage she had ever closely observed, her parents’, was not now passionate, if it ever had been. Yet she found it difficult to believe that most women regarded men as nasty creatures to be put up with.

 Only consider Fanny, who had seen plenty of life with the army. She appeared to want and to thoroughly enjoy Felix’s embraces, and she must have some notion to what intimacies they led.

 “And my maid...Perfectly understandable...Refuses to come to me in case...Horrid!”

 Constantia had no doubts of her ability to deal with servants. “I shall speak to your abigail, and I have directed the housekeeper to find a second bed for this room,” she said hastily, and made her escape.

 When the chastened abigail was scurrying to attend her mistress, Constantia wearily made her way towards the drawing-room. In the hall she met Frank. As he approached, she tried to imagine him as a nasty creature bent upon horrid, unspeakable indecencies--and failed. She rather suspected that any indecencies he attempted would prove all too delightful.

 His greeting brought her back to earth with a thump.

 “My dear Lady Constantia, you look as if you had just beaten off an attack by Boney’s Imperial Guard.”

 “You are full of compliments, Captain!”

 He grinned. At least he had wiped the bashfulness from her beautiful face. Why was she suddenly shy of him? “Not compliments, but gratitude,” he said. “I wish you will not exhaust yourself trying to conciliate my wretched relatives. Come and sit down for a moment. You have had a trying morning.” He led her to one of the high-backed wooden settles by the fireplace and sat beside her.

 “So far, today seems to have sped from one contretemps to another,” she agreed with a tired smile, leaning back.

 “I gather all is not sweet conviviality above stairs, either.”

 “Have Mr Yates and Lord Vincent been difficult?”

 “Yates has a damnable--dashed sneering way about him. My skin is impervious, but he had poor Dolph cowering in a corner. My uncle Vincent merely sent the maid who came in to make up the fire screaming from the room.”

 “Yes, I have learned of Lord Vincent’s propensities.”

 “Surely he did not assault you!” Sudden anger blazed within him.

 “No, no, though I fear Fanny...Lady Warrington believes he does not...Oh dear, I am beginning to sound like Lady Vincent, never finishing a sentence.” She was scarlet from the high neckline of her blue gown to the roots of her golden hair. “Lady Warrington says his...assaults are limited to...to minor improprieties.”

 His lips twitched. “That is a relief. My sympathies are with his wife--or has she been equally troublesome?”

 “In her way, but I hope I have relieved her concerns.” She rushed on as if to prevent his asking the nature of Lady Vincent’s concerns. “They all expect to be wrapped in luxury in a palace,” she said crossly, “and you did not even invite them.”

 “Is Lady Warrington very demanding? From what I heard, I’d guess she and Godfrey Yates are birds of a feather.”

 “To some extent, I daresay, though leaning towards mockery rather than contempt, if you consider the difference significant. Her manner is disconcerting, but she appears to accept you and Fanny as her cousins and to bear you no ill will.”

 “No doubt she is married to a wealthy man and had few expectations from her grandfather’s will,” said Frank cynically.

 “Perhaps.” Her satin-smooth forehead wrinkled in a worried frown. “She did mention that she doubts her father has truly abandoned his claim to your properties.”

 “So do I. Mackintyre warned me that when the duke returns to Town he may find himself another lawyer to contest the will. There’s nothing we can do about it until it happens. At least he cannot forward his plans while he is at the Grange.”

 “For all that, I wish him away!” Fanny joined them, slumping on the opposite settle. “And the rest with him.”

 “Are your aunts still insisting on separate chambers?” Constantia asked.

 “I don’t wonder they don’t care to share, for I should hate to be confined with either. One cannot speak to Lady Yates without being accused of attempting to hasten her end, which, incidentally, Frank, was our sole purpose in claiming our inheritance. She had her eye on at least one of the estates for her son, I daresay.”

 “Which would have pleased the duke no better than our inheriting, I wager.”

 “No doubt. Lady Elvira utterly refuses to accept that you are her host, not Uncle Oxshott. She runs his household at Telver Park, I collect, and expects to run this.”

 “Oh Lord!” Frank groaned.

 “For a start,” Fanny continued in despair, “she had her maid strip the sheets off her bed and demanded a different pair because they are darned and fit only for servants. And Lady Yates swears darned sheets will chafe her delicate skin into sores. The few others we possess are all as bad. What am I to do, Connie?”

 “Stop letting their complaints distress you,” Constantia said firmly. “They are shockingly unreasonable. I shall advise them to remove to the inn for the night. I am quite certain the Pig and Piper’s sheets not only have holes in them but are damp!”

 Frank laughed. Fanny summoned up a smile. “Shall you really?” she asked.

 “Yes. You cannot, because you are their hostess, and because they are your relatives and you must conciliate them.” A touch of Lady Westwood’s hauteur mingled with Constantia’s indignation on Fanny’s behalf. “Their opinion is nothing to me. In any case they are not likely to subject me to such Turkish treatment.”

 What a darling she was, Frank thought. Without her loyal support, even his intrepid sister might founder beneath the weight of the united censure of her toplofty aunts. He shuddered to think of Fanny’s plight if Constantia had meekly submitted to her mother’s summons. He wanted to take her in his arms and prove to her with kisses how much he admired her.

 Instead he stood up. “I had better return to the fray. Felix handles them admirably, of course, but I must keep my hostly colours flying lest they forget who owns the Grange.”

 He strode off, erect, with head held high, a soldier marching into battle.

 Constantia gazed after him. “Your brother handles them admirably, also,” she said to Fanny, “and he has not Felix’s advantages. I marvel at his patience, at his not losing his temper.”

 “A good officer must be patient and even-tempered, and Frank is--was a good officer. Connie, where is Anita?”

 “Joan offered to keep her amused.”

 “She and Henriette and Mrs Tanner are very good to her, but it is no part of their duties. I feel I’m taking advantage of their kindness.”

 “We must look about for a nurse, now that Vickie and Miss Bannister are gone.” Constantia was glad of a chance to broach the subject. She had been avoiding it, knowing it would hurt Fanny.

 “Yes, I can see I shan’t have time to care for her myself,” said Fanny sadly. “But nor have I time to find a nurse while my horrid relatives are here.”

 “Lady Warrington is disposed in your favour, I believe. I shall go up now and see if I can make Lady Elvira and Lady Yates see sense. Or perhaps they will take my advice and remove to the Pig and Piper.”

 “That is too much to hope for.” Fanny accompanied Constantia, enquiring about Lady Warrington and somewhat cheered by the report. As they reached the top of the stairs she said, “I must go and make sure Lady Vincent is comfortable. Do you know how Mrs Tanner fared with her?”

 “Not well, I fear.”

 “Oh Lord! She looks such a meek mouse. What is her complaint?”

 Constantia stopped, one hand on the balustrade. “She does not care to share a bed with Lord Vincent. I told Mrs Tanner to try to find a second bed for their chamber. Fanny, Lady Vincent said men are nasty creatures with...with unspeakable desires. My parents have had separate chambers as long as I can remember, and I wondered...I mean, I...”

 Fanny touched her hand. “My parents were deeply in love until the day Papa died. You know we often shared the most primitive quarters on campaign, with little privacy. I assure you, they...well, Mama never considered my father a nasty creature. I can scarcely wait until Felix and I are married.”

 Her cheeks were rosy not with embarrassment but with eager anticipation. She leaned on the balustrade, lost in a dream that made her eyes sparkle and her lips curve upward.

 Regarding her with envy and sadness, Constantia clasped her hands to her breast.

 A sigh announced Fanny’s emergence from her dream. They went on together, she to Lady Vincent, Constantia to knock lightly on the door of the chamber grudgingly shared by Lady Yates and Lady Elvira. A hatchet-faced abigail answered her tap.

 “I am Lady Constantia Roworth. May I have a word with your mistress and her sister?”

 The woman curtsied. “I’ll just see, my lady.”

 From within came the sounds of an altercation. “I tell you, Elvira, I shall take a chill and very likely a putrid sore throat if you insist on having the window opened.”

 “Balderdash. Fresh air never did anyone harm and since we are obliged to coexist in this wholly inadequate space it is an absolute necessity.”

 “I’m sure I cannot imagine why Oxshott made us come,” said Lady Yates fretfully. “I daresay I shall not survive, for I have never been subjected to such discomfort in my life.”

 Incensed, Constantia boldly pushed open the door and stepped in. “I fear you find your accommodations unsatisfactory,” she said, mimicking her mother’s most frigid tones. “May I suggest you repair to the inn in King’s Wallop? Or Winchester has many superior hostelries, if you do not care for the Pig and Piper.”

 “Pig!” said Lady Yates faintly. She was reclining on the vast, canopied bed. “Bidwell, my smelling salts.”

 “You have them already, my lady,” her maid ventured to point out. “Here are the Ward’s pills. Shall I send for burnt feathers?”

 “No wonder you are an invalid, Millicent,” Lady Elvira snorted. “Constantly physicking yourself with quack nostrums. Lady Constantia, naturally I do not hold you accountable for the sorry state of affairs, you being a guest like myself.”

 “Thank you, ma’am,” said Constantia ironically, “but I am as responsible as Miss Ingram for the transformation of this house from a near ruin into a habitable home in a very short time.”

 “That is as may be. However, there are serious shortcomings in my niece’s housekeeping, if she is indeed my niece. I shall attempt to remedy them. I shall stay.”

 “I cannot possibly remove,” Lady Yates moaned. “I shall be confined to my bed for a week, I know it.”

 “Our bed,” said Lady Elvira distastefully. “You have pushed the bolster far beyond the middle line.”

 “Racked by rheumaticks as I am, I need to be able to stretch my aching limbs.”

 Leaving them to the battle of the bolster, Constantia departed, closing the door firmly behind her. Her intervention had accomplished little, she feared. The ladies might be resigned to their situation, but they were not at all likely to admit it.

 Luncheon passed better than she had expected, for which she gave credit to Henriette’s superb spread. Lady Elvira ate heartily despite criticizing every dish. Mr Yates and Lady Warrington sniped at each other. Poor Dolph was silently cowed. The duke appeared to be sulking over the damage to his carriage. Lady Yates took a bowl of gruel in her room.

 From Constantia’s point of view, the worst was finding herself at the sideboard with Lord Vincent. She jumped when he pinched her, but managed to restrain an exclamation. She suspected Frank’s patience had its limits, and the last thing they needed was for him to challenge his uncle to a duel.

 After luncheon, Lady Elvira declared her intention of touring the house with the housekeeper. Lady Vincent hid herself in a corner with her embroidery. Lady Warrington said her doctor had recommended gentle exercise after eating. She invited Constantia and Fanny to take a turn with her in the shrubbery since the rain had stopped, so, leaving Frank and Felix to entertain the gentlemen, the three went to put on their bonnets.

 “And pray bring the little girl,” said Lady Warrington. “I am fond of children.”

 Always ready to make new friends, Anita skipped happily along beside them.

 Lady Warrington was vastly amused by the shrubbery, which was still a jungle. Fortunately, Fanny was not at all put out by her quizzing. In fact she was far less shocked than Constantia by her cousin’s frankness, and far better able to respond in a similar bantering tone. By the time they returned to the house after a half-hour’s saunter, they were Cousin Fanny and Cousin Lydia--Aunt Lydia to Anita.

 Frank and Felix intercepted them in the hall.

 “We’re off duty,” said Frank. “Uncle Oxshott has sent Yates into Winchester in search of something fit to drink, and he’s dictating letters to Uncle Vincent in the bookroom. I didn’t realize Lord Vincent was his secretary.”

 “Since Father is forced to support an indigent brother and nephew,” drawled Lady Warrington, “he makes good use of them. If you will excuse me, I shall retire for my nap now.”

 “It’s time for Anita’s nap, too,” said Fanny.

 “I’ll come up with you.” Felix lifted the child to his shoulders and they all started up the stairs.

 Constantia made a move to follow.

 “Don’t abandon me,” said Frank, “now that at last I’m free of pestilential relatives for a while.”

 “I was just going to put off my bonnet.”

 “Are you wearied? Busy as today has been, I haven’t had my exercise for the day and I hoped you’d walk with me.”

 “I ought to...” She knew she ought to refuse. “Oh, fiddlesticks! Yes, I will come with you. I have been shockingly lax in supervising your exercise of late, but you are so much recovered.”

 “And you are so much occupied with setting my home to rights.” He opened the front door and they strolled down the drive towards the stream. “I mean to try if I can handle the ribbons tomorrow. Shall I take you and Fanny into Winchester? I want to talk to the fellow Parslow recommended about painting and refurbishing the carriage.”