Captain Ingram's Inheritance (23 page)

 “One of us had best stay here. The final selection is up to Fanny, so she should go.”

 “But you’ve discussed it with her, have you not? Besides, it’s my house you’re furnishing at present, not hers. I’ll be more than happy to live with whatever your taste dictates.”

 “Beware! You might find yourself saddled with false Egyptian, all sphinxes and crocodile legs; or imitation Chinese bamboo adorned with dragons; or simply feminine frills and floral prints everywhere.”

 He laughed. “No fervent admirer of my Elizabethan hall is likely to choose any of those. I trust you to buy me what best befits a country gentleman of modest taste and no pretensions to fashion. The Grange’s façade is eccentricity enough for me.”

 They turned and looked back up the hill at the absurd towers and turrets.

 “You will not let the duke take it away from you!”

 “No.” Frank was calm but resolute. “All my life I have been a wanderer perforce, and now I find in myself a deep desire to put down roots, to make the best I can of a little piece of England. I shall not yield up my home without a fight.”

 As always his force of character impressed Constantia. The physical strength now rapidly returning was less important than the inner strength, the vigorous vitality she recognized in him. What he set his mind to, he would attain.

 The idea frightened her a little.

 As they continued in silence down the hill, she wondered how she was to make him accept her refusal if he asked for her hand. Was she playing with fire, staying on at Upfield and allowing herself the painful pleasure of his company?

 No; she flattered herself. He did not love her, or she would be certain of it by now. At times it was possible to deceive herself but in reality he saw her as no more than a friend, soon to be a sister. He walked beside her without languishing glances, without sighs, without attempts to press her hand, without lavish compliments on her ravishing beauty.

 “The leaves of the elms are beginning to yellow,” he said. Did that not prove he had no tender feelings for her? “Autumn is on its way.”

 Looking up at the tree-tops, she saw a cloud of birds wheel across the grey sky. “Yes, see the swallows gathering. They will soon be gone. A melancholy season.”

 “Not so! The melancholy comes from consorting with my guests. Evade them tomorrow. The bustle of the Winchester shops will drive away your megrims.”

 Constantia smiled at him. “I daresay, but I must consult Fanny. She is surely as eager as I to escape, and I have already tested the comfort of your carriage. But you said you mean to try if you can handle the reins,” she added anxiously. “Winchester is all of ten miles.”

 “I don’t imagine I’ll be able to drive so far at first. I’ll take Hoskins.”

 “He is a coachman, among his many skills?”

 “Not exactly a coachman. He has often driven a gun-carriage.”

 “And you?” she enquired with suspicion.

 Frank grinned. “I too have driven a gun-carriage upon occasion. Believe me, after coercing mismatched army horses over roadless mountains, tooling my new team along the lanes will be as easy as hitting the side of a barn at fifty paces.”

 “Indeed, I hope so!”

 “If you are wary of entrusting yourself to my skill, I’ll borrow Felix’s groom instead of taking Hoskins.”

 “Oh no, I would not wish to hurt the corporal’s feelings. If Fanny does not choose to go, I am willing to risk my life.”

 “You are quizzing me, I trust, Lady Constantia! It’s a staid barouche-landau I’ve acquired, not a high-perch phaeton, and Felix has pronounced my cattle slugs.”

 “How shockingly rude. He would not dare so insult any but an intimate friend. I am glad that you and he are become good friends.”

 “And I that you and Fanny are good friends.”

 Their eyes met, but neither remarked upon the friendship existing between the two of them.

 Reaching the bridge with its broken railing, they commented on the duke’s extraordinary run of bad luck, then turned back to the house.

 All was quiet. Rather than seeking out trouble, they decided to sit in the hall, where they could be easily found if sought for. And after half an hour or so discussing the house and garden, there they were found by Thomas.

 “My lady, if you please, Mrs Tanner’d like a word, when convenient. She’s that upset, my lady. Will I tell her to come to you here?”

 “Is she in her room? I shall go to her.”

 Frank followed her to the housekeeper’s room, stopping in the doorway as she went in. Mrs Tanner jumped up from her chair, twisting her apron in agitated hands.

 “My lady, it’s that Lady Elvira. I didn’t like to trouble the master or Miss Fanny, seeing she’s their auntie, but...Oh, Captain, sir, I didn’t see you there. If I don’t give satisfaction, I’m sure I’m ready to give you my notice, sir.” She burst into tears.

 “Come, now.” Constantia seated the unhappy housekeeper and took the chair opposite her. “I am sure there is no need for that.” She raised questioning eyebrows at Frank.

 “Certainly not.” He turned his head to glance back into the passage. “Thomas, the madeira, and we’d best have tea, too, I daresay. Mrs Tanner,” he went on, advancing into the room, “I depend upon you, and there is no question of dissatisfaction. Just what has my aunt been saying?”

 Mrs Tanner mopped her eyes with her apron and was about to rise again when he put his hand on her shoulder. “Her ladyship found fault with everything, sir. Leastways, she couldn’t say anything wasn’t clean, so she kept mum on that--not a word of approval, mind you. But she went through the linen cupboard and there’s not enough of anything and what there is is mended. And there’s odd dishes among the china, and odd knives and forks and glasses. And the curtains in the morning-room’s too short, and the...”

 “Yes, I remember they shrank when we washed them,” said Constantia, cutting off what promised to be an endless list of complaints. “Surely Lady Elvira did not reproach you for the household’s inadequacies?”

 “That she did, my lady. She said a competent housekeeper’d contrive and she ordered me I must do this and that different till I was that flustered I didn’t know was I on my head or my heels.”

 Frank gave her a smile of singular charm. “In my opinion you are perfectly competent, and my opinion is the only one that counts. If any of Lady Elvira’s hints seem useful to you, by all means put them into practice. If in doubt, consult Lady Constantia or Miss Fanny. Ignore the rest. Ah, Thomas, pour a glass of wine for Mrs Tanner, please.”

 As Constantia left with him, she heard the housekeeper say to the footman in a loud whisper, “You couldn’t ask for a better master, Thomas, indeed you couldn’t.”

 Frank’s ears turned bright red.

 “You have won an ally for life,” said Constantia. She sighed. “Another minor disaster averted. What next, I wonder?”

Chapter 15

 The rest of the afternoon passed without major crises, though not without minor unpleasantnesses, such as Lady Yates demanding a blend of China tea they happened not to have in the house. Her delicate digestion could stomach no other, she declared.

 Before dinner, Constantia changed into a gown of lavender sarcenet, trimmed with lace at sleeves and hem, and with a triple fall of lace at her throat. It was one of the dresses ordered when her mother had taken her and Vickie to Bath, after Felix’s windfall. Though that day had been perfectly horrid, with the tryings-on and the visit to Grandmama, she was glad now to have the new clothes. They added to her standing as daughter of an earl, and therefore made it easier for her to protect Fanny against her noble relatives.

 After dressing, she went to Fanny’s room. Anita was already in her little truckle bed, watching with sleepy eyes as Fanny donned a new gown of rose-pink lustring.

 “Hallo, Aunt Connie,” she said drowsily. “Isn’t Aunt Fanny pretty?”

 “Very pretty. Let me help you tie those tapes, Fanny. Has your brother spoken to you about going to Winchester tomorrow?”

 “No. I’ve hardly had a chance to exchange a word with him all day, or with you, or to play with Anita. I’m going to start getting up earlier, so that I can spend some time with her before anyone comes down to breakfast. She wakes early anyway. What is this about Frank and Winchester?” She picked up a hairbrush and began to tidy her brown curls.

 “He wants to consult someone about refurbishing his new carriage, and he offer to take us in to town to do our shopping. I fear one of us ought to stay at home, though, to make sure all runs as smoothly as possible.”

 Fanny wrinkled her nose at the looking-glass. “Smoothly is not possible, but if Frank is going, I must stay and play hostess. You take your chance to escape for a few hours. I hate to ask you to perform our errands, though.”

 “I shall enjoy it. I have a good idea of the exact patterns and colours you want.”

 “I’m quite sure Frank will accept whatever you select,” Fanny said gaily, glancing over her shoulder at Constantia. “After all, you know far more about elegant furnishings than I, and you guided my choices in the first place.”

 Despite her explanatory second sentence, Constantia was left with the feeling that Fanny was still hoping to promote a match. She tried to think of a way to convince her that her efforts were futile--without revealing the real reason and without leading her to suppose her brother’s myriad virtues were unappreciated.

 Joan came in to see if Fanny needed her help. The moment passed, and, after kissing Anita goodnight, the ladies went down together.

 Though dinner was a family occasion, under Lady Elvira’s unrelenting guidance it was a formal and uncomfortable affair. To Constantia it seemed that the rigorous observance of every nicety of etiquette was a shield against the petty squabbling that would otherwise flare up among Oxshott’s family.

 As she later learned, as soon as the ladies withdrew after the meal, disharmony had reared its head. When the gentlemen joined the ladies in the drawing-room, Frank came over to her.

 “Yates--Cousin Godfrey as my uncle insists on my calling him--brought a couple of bottles of port back from Winchester,” he told her in a low voice, “but it was too shaken up to be drinkable. Uncle Oxshott is in a vile temper.”

 “Is he not always?” she teased.

 “Usually,” he agreed ruefully. “I’d hoped the port might mellow him. Yates ordered a case of it and one of brandy to be delivered, but my uncle gave him a bear-garden jaw, and then both of them started badgering poor Dolph.”

 “I thought he was looking even more hunted than usual.”

 “Should you mind if we took him with us tomorrow?”

 “Not at all. A brief respite from the duke’s company cannot but do him a world of good.”

 “And us, too!”

 Lady Vincent joined them, embroidery in hand. She eyed Frank with such a mixture of repugnance and misgiving that he soon took himself off. He went to speak to Dolph, while she said anxiously to Constantia, “Tête-à-tête...unmarried gentleman...so very dangerous...Rescued you, my dear.”

 Constantia swallowed a sigh and admired her embroidery, a bouquet of white, virginal rosebuds. As Lady Vincent chatted on in her disjointed way, Constantia watched, fascinated, Dolph sidling around the room towards her.

 Forced at last to abandon the wall and cross an unprotected tract of carpet, he threw a nervous look over his shoulder at his father and made a dash for it. “Lady Constantia!” he gasped, wiping his forehead.

 “Yes, Lord Mentham? Will you not be seated?”

 He perched on the edge of a chair and leaned towards her, apparently oblivious of Lady Vincent at her side. “Cousin Frank says I may go with you to Winchester tomorrow,” he whispered.

 “Certainly, if you wish. Did Captain Ingram explain that we are going on errands, not a party of pleasure?”

 Nodding vigorously, he assured her, “I don’t mind. I’ll help if you tell me what to do. But he isn’t going, is he? Just you and me and Cousin Frank?”

 “Two gentlemen...abigail...must strongly advise...” Lady Vincent broke in, agitated.

 “I have every intention of taking my abigail,” Constantia promised. “Corporal Hoskins goes with us, too.”

 Dolph had fixed his aunt with an anguished gaze, as if he had only become aware of her presence when she spoke. “Won’t tell Father, ma’am?” he entreated.

 “That man...forced to...exigencies...his house...not breathe a word!”

 At an hour long before his grace was ever known to stir from his chamber, the barouche-landau rolled down the drive and across the bridge. It was a fine day, though with a crisp hint of autumn in the air, so the carriage was open and Constantia was able to watch Frank at the reins.

 She had no real doubt of his competence. Her concern was lest he overstrain his shoulders. Hoskins, on the box beside him, would do his best to stop his captain harming himself, but she knew well how Frank’s resoluteness was apt to shade into stubbornness. If he decided to keep on driving when he ought to stop, the corporal might not be able to prevent him. In that case, she hoped he would heed her pleas.

 Her pleas were not needed. After a couple of miles, he handed over the ribbons and came to sit beside Dolph with his back to the horses, looking pleased with himself. He drove another stretch later, but let Hoskins take over again when they reached the high road and started to meet with traffic.

 Constantia thoroughly enjoyed the day. Having consulted the coach-builder, Frank returned to join her and Dolph in going from draper to upholsterer to furniture-maker to china-shop. Joan’s and Hoskins’s arms filled with smaller purchases. Dolph proudly treated them to a neat luncheon at the Black Swan--his father kept him short of the ready, he said, but not so short he could not sport his friends a meal.

 Weary but content, they returned to Upfield Grange, arriving as the long golden light of late afternoon faded to a rosy sunset glow. One of the duke’s puce-liveried footmen awaited them in the hall.

 “My lord, his grace wishes to speak to your lordship immediately,” he said to Dolph, staring blank-faced over his shoulder. “His grace is in the drawing-room.”