Lady Elizabeth's Comet (14 page)

"Clanross."

"I never met a more obstinate man," he said without heat. "All the same, he surprises
me. Perhaps there's something in what he says."

"What does he say?"

"That lying about doing nothing is the worst course he could follow. Not that he's tried
it, God knows. I'll admit I didn't expect him to walk before summer, let alone without crutches,
but he still has appalling spasms in those muscles I tore up, and climbing stairs like a dashed goat
can't help. If the carriage ride wouldn't set him back months, I'd make him go to Cheltenham or
Bath."

"Can't he arrange for a litter?"

Charles hooted. "If you fancy Clanross would lie still for that, you're touched in the
upper works. I suggested it and you may imagine the satire that was heaped on my unoffending
head. He was ready to deck Sims out in ostrich plumes to sprinkle lavender in his path. He said
he might try riding in short stages to Harrogate if I insisted on a change of venue. I flew into the
boughs over that, I can tell you. Whatever you do, don't encourage the man to ride."

"My word, Charles, I have no influence with Clanross."

"You're wrong there, Lizzie."

"What do you mean?"

"He's dashed grateful to you, and he knows exactly what he owes you. I made sure of
that."

I winced. "I don't care to have my boots licked."

Charles said earnestly, "He wouldn't do that. Not stupid. Except over the blasted
laudanum."

I stiffened and my mare, startled, began to dance. I quietened her and said carefully,
"Surely Clanross has no need of laudanum now."

"No? He don't sleep. Not more than one or two hours at a stretch. I told you the muscle
spasms were bad."

"Good God."

Charles pulled up, his face grave. "If you could persuade him to use it. Not forever. Just
for a week or so until the muscles have a chance to relax..."

"No!" I set my mare in motion again.

Charles sighed. "Very well, pander to his lordship's unreasonable aversion. I hope it will
please you to see him twisted in a knot."

"It won't please me," I said unhappily. "Isn't there another way?"

"He could drink himself insensible every night."

"Charles!"

He said grimly, "There are two specifics for pain, opium and strong drink. Take your
choice."

"If he has the courage to endure it..."

"Courage, phhht! It's not courage his brass-plated lordship wants. It's common
sense."

"Do you dislike Clanross?"

"The devil, Liz, don't look at me that way. If I disliked him, watching him fight it
wouldn't tie
me
in knots." He kneed his horse to a trot. "Hi, you idiots, we turn off
here."

I fear I did not take in a great deal of what Charles showed us as we approached
Hazeldell, which was a pity, for the grounds, though not extensive, are as pretty as any in the
shire.

I was disturbed as much because of my nightmare memory of forcing Clanross to drink
the laudanum as because of what Charles had told me. I did not wish to recall my conduct again
to mind. Clanross had trusted me, for whatever reason, and I had used the trust to trick him. I do
not betray a trust without guilt.

As we rode up to the stables I tried to persuade myself that my deceit had saved his life,
indeed, that he should thank me for it, but I did not believe he would, and I did not believe my
nightmare would cease. I still dreamt of that night.

* * * *

Charles's sister, Mary, and his mother spread their soothing influence at the tea table,
and I began to feel less harried and more aware of the others. Bevis was flirting with Cecilia.
Outrageously. He did not, of course, neglect to cast his spell over Charles's other ladies, and I
perceived that Charles was not blind to their preenings either. Something would have to be
done--by me. I felt a wave of competency sweep through me. I would set things to rights.

After tea we rambled through Hazeldell. It is a Queen Anne house, not large but
lovingly cared for for a century--just enough time for the wood to glow and the colours to soften
and for all the shrubs and trees to look as if they had been there since the Creation.

I could see that Cecilia liked it and that Willoughby was startled out of his fixed sneer.
There was no doubt that Hazeldell was a gentleman's residence. The relics of the Tudor manse, a
plan of the maze, an Elizabethan carving, a stiff, varnished portrait of a gentleman in a ruff--all
underlined the point that the Whartons had held the manor forever.

Charles was not a wealthy man but if there were a question of eligibility it must lie with
Cecilia's family, not his. All this nonsense I could see going through three heads at
once--Charles's, held unconsciously higher; Cecilia's, her eyes well opened; and Willoughby's.

Willoughby's eyes narrowed, and he commenced to look almost worried. Had he
counted on this visit to Charles's home to place Charles outside the pale? Perhaps. I suspected the
effect would be to make Cecilia look at Charles for the first time and really see him.

Tschaa! Disgusting. I have a soul above such considerations as bloodlines and ancestral
halls, I told myself, thinking of Clanross's sarcasms about money and feeling half amused and
half sad. Cecilia would make Charles an impossible wife. And I would make Bevis an equally
impossible one. It crossed my mind that perhaps Cecilia would suit Bevis better than I
would.

Did he really wish to marry me, or had he merely been overcome with nostalgia? I was
convinced he meant to wed, for he had sold his commission, but the question was, whom? Me?
Cecilia? Any suitable youngish woman? I left Hazeldell feeling rather cross.

On the way back Bevis honoured me with his company, leaving Willoughby and Cecilia
to take the lead.

"Lovely to see you, my lord," I said affably.

"And you, my lady."

We indulged for some time in our usual nonsense and talked of Hazeldell and the
Whartons. Finally I said, "You're driving Charles wild with jealousy, you know."

He didn't pretend innocence. "Will he call me out? Scalpels at a hundred paces?"

I smiled.

Bevis was regarding me with curiosity. "I do not, I take it, drive you wild with
jealousy."

I laughed. "Shall I gnash my teeth?"

"Did you throw Miss Conway-Gore and me together deliberately?"

I was so startled I reined in. "What are you suggesting?"

He pulled up, too, and the gelding danced. "I collect you thought Willoughby had
brought her down to entangle Tom, but you must have known she'd bore him. She bores me," he
added, unsmiling. "Her mother heard I was home and paraded her before me at Christmas, but it
didn't take. She has nothing to say for herself."

I opened my mouth and closed it again. I am rarely caught with nothing to say for
myself. I set my mare walking.

"You're avoiding me, Liz." He sounded angry. "Again."

"I don't mean to, truly, Bevis. I asked you to come because I thought Willoughby's
company wouldn't sit well with Clanross."

"That's nonsense. Tom can reduce Willoughby to mincemeat whenever he
chooses."

"But I didn't know that."

"Did you not?"

I had known it or at least suspected it. "I wanted your company myself," I said,
exasperated.

"That won't wash either, my lady. You've spared me precisely seventeen minutes alone
since I came."

"You were so absorbed in Cecilia's charms..."

"And you in your blasted telescope."

We glared at each other.

Presently, he began to grin. "We're both jealous. Hurrah!" He let out a whoop and set his
gelding caracoling all over the lane to the disapproval of a passing carter.

"Bevis, stop it," I cried, breathless with amusement and something less easily
defined.

He pulled up, obedient. "Marry me?"

"Oh, Bevis. Yes, very well."

"D'you mean it, Liz?"

"I--yes, I think so."

He let out another whoop, and the carter turned around to scowl at us. "Wait till I tell the
governor. By Jove, Liz, that's something like!"

"Bevis, don't tell Dunarvon. Not yet. Please."

He looked sulky.

"Give me some time to accustom myself to captivity before your kin descend on
me."

He softened. "My poor idiot, if you wish. My lips are sealed. You don't mind if I tell
Tom, do you? He won't peach."

In fact, I didn't want him to tell anyone, least of all Clanross, but I realised Bevis was
being generous. "Very well," I said with a sinking feeling in my stomach. "Bevis, you didn't lay a
bet with Clanross?"

He looked shocked. "I ain't one of your hey-go-mad twenty-year olds, Liz. I gave up that
sort of nonsense years ago. Besides," he added, spoiling his touching portrait of mature virtue, "I
dashed well wasn't sure of the outcome."

I laughed at that, but the laughter rang hollow. Giving up my freedom was not going to
be easy. Perhaps Bevis sensed my discomfort, for he did not teaze me further, and we rode along
quietly, Bevis whistling from time to time and I thinking.

* * * *

I did not go up to Brecon for dinner. Bevis was disappointed, but I wanted to use the
telescope as soon as it was dark enough. There would not be many opportunities to do so in
future. That argument silenced his objections.

I thought I wouldn't be able to concentrate, but I did--for more than six hours. When I
finally stumbled down, yawning, Harris was blue with cold and boredom, and my sketches and
calculations covered sheet after sheet of paper. If only there were some way to fix what I saw on
canvas.

I mused on the impossibility of an instantaneous sketching machine as I went up to my
room. The water in my jug was icy. The bricks in the bed had long ago cooled. I scrambled under
the covers and lay there shivering, still thinking of the stars, when suddenly, sickeningly, it
occurred to me that I was going to be married. I fear I cried myself to sleep.

* * * *

I woke impossibly early. I must have slept two hours at most. The birds were chirruping.
Dawnlight filtered through Brecon wood, dispelling the ground mist. A scattering of daffodils
starred the grass. Nature, at least, had no doubts about my nuptials.

It was far too early for breakfast. I dressed in boots and walking skirt and went for a
long ramble. I circumnavigated Brecon--no mean distance--and it was still barely half-past
seven. I could tell, because the Brecon grooms had just begun to move about the stables, and
smoke issued tentatively from various chimneys. The dew was on the grass, my boots were wet,
and I wanted tea. I decided to invade the Brecon kitchens, which were closer than the Dower
House.

I startled the chambermaid, Molly, so that she let out a small shriek. "Lawks, my lady,
you're up and about early."

I forced a smile. "So are you, Molly. May I beg a cup of tea? I went for a long walk, and
I'm chilled."

"Oh, yes, my lady. I was just set to brew his lordship a pot, seeing as how he's been at
work in the estate office this past hour."

I asked cautiously, "Is that his custom?"

"He's an early riser, sure enough. Would you be wanting toast or anything, my lady? I'll
light the breakfast-room fire."

"No. No, thank you," I said hastily. "As his lordship's up and about I'll take a cup with
him in the estate room."

"Very good, my lady."

I did not relish facing Clanross or any of the Brecon party, but it would be inconsiderate
to require special attentions for myself. I went up to the east wing and knocked at the estate room
door, feeling glum.

"Come in, Molly," Clanross said absently. "Set it on the table over there." He was
frowning over a pile of papers and didn't raise his eyes.

"Molly will be up directly," I said in a small voice. "May I take a cup of tea with
you?"

He set the papers aside and rose. "By all means. Good morning." If I had startled him he
hid it well. Nor did he say the equivalent of lawks, my lady, you're up and about early. Perhaps
he thought it wouldn't be tactful. More likely he didn't want me to return the compliment.

The morning light in the estate room was almost too bright. It picked out the bones of
his face with ruthless clarity. He looked ill and tired. I sat in the chair he pulled out for me.

"I'm glad to see you alone," he said. "I've been meaning to ask you whether you'd object
if I drained the lake."

I gaped. "Why?"

"I want to swim in it, and I don't fancy entangling myself in half a ton of
duckweed."

"Good God." I thought of Charles's strictures on a mere horseback ride and couldn't help
laughing.

Molly knocked. Clanross, who was still standing, held the door for her and I composed
myself. "What are you going to do with that?"

"The lake?"

"The toast." Molly had made a veritable mountain of toast.

"File it."

"Feed it to the ducks," I said firmly.

"Before or after I drain the lake?"

"A home question." I dolloped sugar in my tea and stirred thoughtfully. "Do you think
you ought?"

He took a sip of tea. "We don't want hungry ducks nibbling about."

"I meant, as you well know, ought you to try so violent an exercise as swimming so
soon?"

"Soon!" He stared at me over the teacup. "You've been talking with Wharton."

"He is anxious lest your injured muscles tie themselves in permanent knots."

"So am I," he said shortly, "but I fail to see how setting in like a cabbage will avert
that."

I frowned. "I have to agree with you, but neither of us is trained as a physician. Charles
is."

"He's an old woman."

"I wonder why it is that men express their disapproval of other men by maligning the
female sex. If you wish to be told to exert yourself and to stop mooning about like a
mollycoddle, go see Aunt Whitby. She
is
an old woman."

His mouth relaxed in a wry grin. "My thirst for punishment isn't that great. You have a
wonderful gift for evasion, ma'am. I asked you whether I might drain and clear the lake."