The Determined Bachelor (32 page)

“Never,” murmured Sir Basil Ives in a wondering meditative tone, “could I have imagined that I should find myself so happy to be so much in the company of women.”

Some few days had passed since the enactment of the last scene, and so much had occurred to fill them up that neither the Ambassador nor Anne, who now sat next to him upon the drawing room sofa staring absently into the flickering fire, could account for their passage. The Baronet had indeed been subjected to an almost constant barrage of female company and conversation. No sooner had the news of their engagement reached Devonshire than Mrs. Calder and her two next eldest children had descended upon the Capital to oversee the couple's plans. Anne had been instantly transported out of Regent's Terrace to the more appropriate environment of Curzon Street, for now, as her mother declared, that she was no longer Sir Basil's governess but his intended, she could scarcely remain beneath the same roof. Sir Basil failed to see the logic of this argument, for as he quickly pointed out, he had fallen in love with her beneath that roof, and beneath that roof they had already passed one blissful month of solitary peace, enjoying each other's company in the most proper and civilized fashion, without the aid of any chaperone. Mrs. Calder would have snorted upon hearing this, had she not fallen so much beneath the Baronet's spell the moment she clapped eyes upon him that it was sometimes difficult to tell whether mother or daughter was more enraptured with that gentleman. She could scarce bring herself to contradict even his most facetious remarks, which were made on purpose to
tease her, and found his circumlocutions of her arguments only a little more charming than they were frustrating. Still, the ladies had had their way in the end, as Sir Basil remarked now, leaning back against the pillows of the sofa and heaving a deep sigh of contented indolence. His hand searched out the fingers of his companion, which lay an inch or two away from his own, and gave them a gentle squeeze.

“I think you really ought to congratulate me, my darling girl, on my admirable stoicism in the face of it all.”

Anne replied with a wry little smile, which quickly melted into a gentler look as she caught his eye.

“I think you have been admirable indeed, Basil! Much more than
I
have been! I really thought you might take flight the instant you saw my mother descend upon us. And I should not,” she added, softly, “have blamed you much.”

“What!” The Baronet looked shocked. “Take flight just when the object of my heart was nearly won! Leave my poor love to the tender mercies of that tribe of ministering angels? I may not be Wellington, dear girl, but I hope I have got a
little
spine!”

Anne laughed softly at the expression of ill-usage upon her lover's face.

“Don't laugh at me. I shan't have you laughing at me,” retorted he.

“I wasn't laughing at you!”

Sir Basil gave her a little sideways glance and pouted “Very well, then. You may laugh at me if you like. Only see what an imbecile I am become for you!”

“On the contrary,” responded Anne, with an equal degree of mockery in her grave look, “you are only become a little malleable. It is an excellent quality in a diplomat.”

Sir Basil grunted, and there was a brief silence whilst the lovers stared into the fire and only the ticking of the clock disturbed the utter tranquility of the moment. After a little the Baronet stole a look at his companion's profile, which, touched as it was by the firelight, looked even more composed and lovely than he had expected. He could not tear his eyes away for a moment or two, and Anne flushed a little beneath their gaze.

“Are you—” commenced she after a moment—“are you
quite
sure of what you are doing? I shan't hold you to anything, you know, even if you change your mind at the last moment.”

Sir Basil gave her a sharp look, and then exclaimed, “Why,
I am mightily glad you asked, my love! For as it happens, I have just discovered a most extraordinary weakness for a certain young lady—a most wrong-headed and silly girl, to be sure, but nevertheless quite wonderfully enchanting. I suppose you will know her—and I wish instantly to be released, that I may marry her!”

Anne, who had looked startled at first, and rather dismayed, now burst out laughing.

“
Do
be serious, Basil! I am perfectly in earnest. I mean, you really ought to consider what you are doing. I may be an immense disappointment to you. I have no training for diplomacy, none of the qualifications expected of an ambassador's wife—I may disgrace you abominably. Once we are settled in Paris and you are returned to your own world, you may look at me one day and regret most bitterly what you did in the passion of the moment. I should far rather you scrutinized your heart now, than discover a contempt for me
later!
”

“I would far rather, my love, scrutinize
you,”
replied the Baronet, turning her face gently toward his. “For I never in all my life supposed a face could be so lovely, nor hold so much fascination for me. Look at me, Anne, what do you see?”

Anne turned her eyes to meet the Baronet's, and quickly glanced away.”

“A man infatuated, perhaps, only for the moment, and for the first time. A wholly wonderful, remarkable man—but still, perhaps, only carried away for the moment, and blinded to his true sense of right.”

Sir Basil smiled. “And are
you
similarly blinded?”

Anne shook her head gravely. “Only in so far as I am happier now than I ever imagined possible. But I know when the novelty has worn off and I am grown quite accustomed to being the luckiest creature on earth, that I shall still regard you as I do now. For I have weighed in my
mind
, no less than in my heart, what we both are, and though I find
myself
sadly lacking, you are more than I could ever require in a man.”

“And do you think, only because I am a man, and therefore incapable of this sort of deep thought which you have described, that I have not myself engaged in a little similar contemplation? Do you suppose I have simply fallen prey to a tantalizing witch? Dear me! And I thought your opinion of my sex had improved a little.”

“
Do
be serious, Basil. You know that is not what I meant.”

“I never was more serious in all my life, my dearest Anne,” responded Sir Basil, still gently holding her chin and gazing deep into her eyes. “I have weighed the matter most carefully—for no one, I think you will agree, could fault me for being unmeticulous—and I have concluded that no two people upon earth could be more admirably suited. That is, if you will have a little patience with me, and continue to instruct me in the art of happiness as successfully as you have done thus far.”

“You don't think I will shame you through some thoughtless act or remark?”

“Only,” said Sir Basil, smiling, “if you insist upon lecturing King Louis as you do me!”

“I shall try to learn to hold my tongue,” replied Anne, flushing.

“Oh, I hope not, indeed! But perhaps—perhaps just a
little
more restraint with some of the French would help. They are not endowed with my vast store of self-mockery and humility.”

“Hmmph!” snorted Anne, laughing out loud.

“Hmmph, indeed! No—will you do me one great favour?”

Anne looked puzzled. “Anything, Your Excellency.”

“Will you hold your tongue long enough to let me kiss you?”

Anne, without much trouble, obeyed this command, and the lovers were much immersed in this fascinating activity when a soft knock sounded at the door. Lady Cardovan appeared a moment later, smiling indulgently at the pair upon the sofa, who both rose quickly to their feet, looking slightly guilty. Her ladyship had lived upon the earth for several years, and was not much fooled by their sudden show of interest in the arrangement of logs upon the fire. She had come to chaperone the dinner party, and being a sensible woman, had removed herself as soon as the repast was finished, ostensibly to read a story to Nicole. In fact, the child had fallen almost instantly into a deep and happy slumber, leaving Lady Cardovan to amuse herself for half an hour with a book.

The engaged couple had been given hardly a moment's peace since the arrival of the party from Devonshire. Between plans for the wedding (which Mrs. Calder was determined to make a very grand affair, despite the protestations of her daughter and future son-in-law), between fittings, and visits, and the innumerable balls and breakfasts which were suddenly being held in their honor, barely a moment could be
found for such a
tête-a-tête
as this. Lady Cardovan, seeing the expressions upon her friends' faces, judged that the half an hour she had given them alone had been well accounted for.

“Well, children,” declared she, coming into the room and assuming the expression and stance of a prim old spinster, with her lips pursed and her hands clasped against her waist, “I hope you have used your time wisely.”

“Oh, very wisely, Diana,” responded Sir Basil, with what was almost a sheepish grin. “But I do wish you would remove that expression from your face. You make me feel like a child of twelve. Have
you
no mercy upon us? I should have thought you at least would be a little more kind than the others!”

Lady Diana looked offended and, giving up the pose, moved to an armchair.

“Really, Basil, I think you are most unjust! I have just passed the most grim half-hour. I do wish that whoever owns this house would put something more fascinating upon the library shelves than
The Complete Erwin James
. A most pedantic and insufferable fellow, and one could very well get along with less of him. Indeed, I am delighted that I managed to live so long without making his acquaintance at all.”

“Why,” exclaimed Anne, turning about, “I thought you were upstairs reading to Nicole!”

Lady Cardovan smiled. “She, poor lamb, had no more use for me than you did. She was fast asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow. I make no doubt but that the exertions of the last week have been quite as trying to her as to you.”

“I doubt it,” retorted Sir Basil, taking Anne's arm and guiding her back to the sofa with him. “For she is a female, and constitutionally immune to such goings-on. I believe all women are born capable of any amount of strenuous activity, so long as it is centered principally about the dressmaker's and the ballroom.”

“Well, she is certainly very happy. She asked me about a dozen times if it was not marvelous that you were going to be married.”

“Sweet girl!” exclaimed Anne. “I do hope she will have as little trouble adjusting to life in Paris as she has had here.”

“I make no doubt of it,” said Lady Cardovan. “I never knew a child who had so little trouble making friends. She is the most charming little creature I ever saw.”

“By Jove! There's an idea, Diana!” exclaimed Sir Basil with an inspired look. “What a genius you are!”

Lady Diana looked puzzled. “Why, what have I said, Basil?”

“I shall send her to the Tuileries ahead of me, to argue with King Louis over the Slavery Question. I don't doubt but that he'll be twice as entranced with her as the Regent, and in any case, her chattering is bound to confuse him so much that after an hour he'll be eager to do her every bidding.”

There was a burst of laughter from the ladies, and Anne remarked, “Well, at least if she cannot solve your slavery dilemma, Basil, perhaps she shall succeed in improving the King's manners. I cannot imagine he will be able to hold out very long against her little lectures on hospitality and etiquette after she has been kept waiting all day in the antechamber!”

“Oh, perfect!” concurred Lady Diana, adding with a grave look, “I hope you have warned poor Anne of what is in store for her. I do not much envy you, my dear, being subjected to all those tedious Court rituals and endless breakfasts in the kitchen!”

Anne looked a little startled upon hearing this, but was quickly reassured that although the French King was indeed very fond of pomp and circumstance, his guests were not usually required to take their meals in the kitchen. Lady Diana had been referring to the Bourbon habit of leaving the royal family's guests to dine alone in a state dining hall whilst they took their own meals in another part of the palace.

After a little more of this kind of banter, Sir Basil, who had been silent for some minutes, interrupted:

“In any case, my dear ladies, I do not think Anne will have to tolerate this sort of thing much longer.” Seeing the surprised looks upon the faces of the other two, the Baronet continued.

“I have been doing a bit of serious mulling lately, whilst you ladies have been gadding about racking up bills at the dressmaker's, and I have concluded that now I am to be a happily married man, and with the attendant responsibilities of a guardian, I will not long remain in the Diplomatic Corps. I think I should like to come home once and for all and reap the rewards of my labours.”

“Why, Basil!” exclaimed Anne, “I hope you are not thinking of giving up your career on my account! You have still an illustrious life ahead of you. I should never forgive myself
if I was the cause of your giving it up. In any case, the whole kingdom depends upon you!”