She agreed to this, but when he left her installed in a private parlour she discovered herself to be too anxious to be hungry. She ordered some tea, however, which revived her, though it drew a sharp rebuke from his lordship, when he presently returned to the George. ‘Don’t scold!’ she begged. ‘It was all I wanted, I promise you. And you have eaten nothing!’
‘On the contrary, I had a sandwich and some beer at the Swan.’ His frown deepened. ‘I’ve been unable to get any news of them: they are certainly not in the town. If they changed horses here, no one recalls having seen them – though that’s not wonderful: the ostlers are kept too busy to take particular note of all the travellers who pass through the place.’
Her heart sank, but she said: ‘There’s nothing for it but to go on, then.’
He said roughly: ‘You’ve come far enough! I’ll have that portmanteau of yours carried up to a bed-chamber, and you may remain here. You needn’t be afraid I shan’t catch that pair: I shall, and will bring Lucy to you at once, so don’t argue with me, if you please!’
‘I don’t mean to,’ said Miss Tresilian, tying the strings of her bonnet. ‘Nor do I mean to be abandoned in this very noisy inn!’
‘Now, listen to me, my girl!’ said his lordship, in menacing accents.
‘Go and order the horses to be put-to!’ said Miss Tresilian, unimpressed.
***
No reliable news was to be gained at either of the two first pikes north of Stamford, but at Greetham, where they stopped for a change, an ostler clearly remembered the young lady and gentleman, for he had helped to fig out four lively ’uns for them, and not so many minutes ago neither. He’d suspicioned all along that there was something havey-cavey about them. Argufying, they were, the young gentleman being wishful to put up for the night, and Miss being that set on going on she was ready to nap her bib. Nothing would do for her but to get to Grantham, so off they’d gone.
‘Having made it plain that they were an eloping couple!’ said Miss Tresilian, as they drove away. ‘How Lucy could be so dead to shame – !’
Lord Iver returned no answer, and she sat staring with unseeing eyes at the fading landscape, lost in the gloomiest reflections. From these she was presently recalled by his lordship’s voice, ejaculating: ‘At last!’
The curricle had swept round a bend, and brought into view a post-chaise and four, bowling ahead at a spanking pace. ‘Hand me the yard of tin!’ commanded his lordship grimly.
‘You look after your horses!’ returned Miss Tresilian, already in possession of the long horn. ‘I can sound this quite as well as you can!’
In proof of this statement, she raised the horn to her lips and produced an ear-splitting blast.
‘That should startle them!’ observed his lordship. ‘Oh, my God, of all the infernal cawkers – !’
This outburst of exasperation was provoked by the sudden widening of the gap between the two vehicles: the post-boys, instead of making way for the curricle to pass, were springing their horses. ‘Hold on tightly!’ snapped his lordship, following suit.
‘Iver, for heaven’s sake – !’ she uttered, as the curricle swayed and bounded alarmingly.
He paid no heed; and one glance at his face showed her that to suggest that he might just as well, and far more safely, drive behind the chaise until the fugitives realized the folly of trying to escape from him would be a waste of breath. This foolish gesture of defiance had thoroughly enraged him: he was going to pass the chaise at the first opportunity that offered.
Feeling sick with apprehension, Miss Tresilian fixed her eyes on the road, and tried not to speculate on what would happen if some vehicle were to come round one of the bends towards them. My lord had swung out to the right, not yet attempting to pass, but obviously ready to open out his leaders. The road was narrow, and the chaise held obstinately to the centre. They rocked round another bend, and Miss Tresilian saw a straight stretch ahead. It was a little broader, but not broad enough yet, she decided. Then she saw his lordship drop his hands, and shut her eyes, realizing that her last hour had come. Rigid with fright, she awaited the inevitable crash.
‘Good girl!’ said his lordship approvingly.
Her eyes flew open. ‘You don’t mean to say you’ve done it?’ she gasped.
‘Of course I’ve done it! What, were you afraid I should lock the wheels? Absurd creature!’ He glanced over his shoulder, saw that the post-boys had reined in their horses to a trot, and checked his own team. In another minute he had brought them to a halt, swinging them across the road to form a barrier. He gave the reins into Miss Tresilian’s hands, and, as the chaise drew up, sprang down, and strode towards it.
The post-boys eyed him in some trepidation, but he paid no attention to them. He lifted a hand to wrench open the door of the chaise, but before he could grasp the handle the door was thrust open from within, and a fresh-faced youth, not waiting to let down the steps, jumped out, saying, in an impetuous, rueful voice: ‘I beg your pardon, sir! I didn’t mean – at least, I – oh, by Jupiter, sir, how you did give us the go-by! It was the most bang-up thing I ever saw in my life! But I’m afraid you’re very vexed!’ he added, gazing up in dismay at Lord Iver’s countenance.
His lordship was, in fact, thunderstruck, but his expression was certainly alarming. The unknown youth said contritely: ‘We shouldn’t have done so – indeed, I am very sorry! We were only funning – that’s to say – well, I dare say you know how it is, sir, when one is in spirits, and – and –’ His voice petered out unhappily, for he perceived no understanding at all in the eyes that stared so fiercely at him.
At this point, there was an intervention. A damsel, clad in the demure raiment suitable for a school-room miss, peeped out of the chaise, and said, with an engaging mixture of mischief and penitence: ‘It was all my fault! Because I wouldn’t put up at Stamford, and so we came on, because it is a whole year since I was at home, and I couldn’t have slept a wink, and it’s not so very much farther! Only when we changed horses at Greetham Jack said the light had begun to go, and Papa would say we shouldn’t have come on, but I said we might easily reach Grantham if we drove fast, and give them all such a surprise, for they don’t expect to see us until tomorrow. So Jack said: “Oh, very well!” but we should have everyone thinking we were eloping to Gretna Green, which sent us both into whoops, of course! And that was what put the notion into our heads!’
‘I should explain, sir, that she’s my sister,’ interpolated the youth, anxious to throw light upon dark places. ‘She has been at school, you see.’
‘Yes, but Mama let me come away before any of the others, so that Jack could bring me home. Isn’t it famous?’ rapturously exclaimed his sister. ‘Because Jack, you know, is my particular brother, just as Ned is Cecy’s!’
His lordship, stunned as much by all these whirling words as by the shock of finding that he had waylaid two complete strangers, could think of nothing to say but: ‘Oh!’ and that in a blank voice which made it necessary for Miss Tresilian, deeply appreciative of the scene, to take her underlip firmly between her teeth.
Frowning down his sister’s irrelevance, the young gentleman embarked manfully on an explanation of his conduct. ‘The thing was, sir, that I always meant to spring the horses, if the road was clear, because we have still more than twenty miles to go before we reach home, and my father – Oh, I should have told you that Father is Sir John Holloway, and we live near Grantham! Well – well, we were joking each other about being a runaway couple when you blew up to pass us, and I shouted to the post-boys to put ’em along – just cutting a lark, you know! But, of course, I shouldn’t have done so!’ he added hastily. ‘And I didn’t mean to keep it up. Only – well, when you gave chase it was so exciting – and when I saw you were going to make the attempt – well, I do beg your pardon, sir, but I wouldn’t have missed it for anything! You drove to an inch!’
&
nbsp; ‘I see,’ said his lordship. ‘Well, when next you try your hand at racing on the road, don’t do it in a post-chaise, and don’t take your sister with you! Tell me, have you come from London?’
‘Oh no! From Oxford, sir. One of the old tabbies at Bella’s school brought her up from Bath – Oh, I should have told you that I’m at Magdalen!’
‘Are you? Well, if you are to reach home before dark you’d best lose no more time. Up with you!’
‘Thank you!’ said Mr Holloway, greatly relieved. ‘I’m excessively obliged to you for not – Oh, you go first, sir!’
‘No, I should only hold you up: I’m not going to drive at your hell-for-leather pace!’
Laughing heartily at this, Mr Holloway, after fervently shaking hands with his lordship, hoisted himself into the chaise, and it moved forward, Miss Tresilian having by this time drawn the curricle to the side of the road. His lordship, heavily frowning, walked back to it. He observed that Miss Tresilian had succumbed to her emotions, and regarded her balefully.
‘Oh, don’t look at me like that, Iver!’ she begged, wiping her streaming eyes. ‘If you could but have seen your own face – !’
‘Much help you were!’ he said, with a reluctant grin. ‘Yes, it’s all very well for you to laugh yourself into stitches, my girl, but where the devil are those pernicious brats?’
‘I said we had come on a wild goose chase! Have we all the time been pursuing that enchanting couple?’
‘Certainly not! Didn’t you hear the boy say they had come from Oxford? They can never have been on our road until they entered Stamford. I have not the smallest doubt that when we entered Stamford we were hard on the heels of our own pair.’
That sobered her. She said, in dismay: ‘Do you mean that they are ahead of us still?’
‘No, I don’t,’ he said decidedly. ‘They haven’t passed any of the pikes. From Stamford we have been following the Holloways.’
She was disturbed, but could not resist quizzing him. ‘Flying from a scent, Iver? You?’
He smiled, but absently, and remained for some moments in frowning silence. He said suddenly: ‘If the line was crossed in Stamford – Good God, why didn’t I think of that before? He has taken the girl to Grantley, of course!’ He saw that Miss Tresilian was bewildered, and added impatiently: ‘Windlesham’s place, beyond Market Deeping! You’ve met Arthur’s sister, haven’t you?’
‘Lady Windlesham! Yes, but what could he hope to achieve by that?’
‘Depend upon it, he has a special licence in his pocket, and means to be married under Caroline’s ægis.’
‘But she has no authority to sanction Lucy’s marriage!’
‘Much she would care for that! Arthur can bring her round his thumb any time he chooses to do it: she dotes on him! She’s of a romantic disposition, what’s more, and to judge by the impassioned entreaties she addressed to me on this subject has confused that precious pair with Romeo and Juliet.’
‘Iver, she could not be so unprincipled as to –’
‘Nothing of the sort!’ he interrupted. ‘She knows that Arthur is his own master, and if she doesn’t know already that you liked the connection well enough until you discovered that I was Arthur’s guardian, it wouldn’t, I assure you, take Arthur more than five minutes to convince her that if only the knot could be tied without your knowledge you would be more likely to fall on her neck than to try to overset the marriage!’
He climbed into his seat again as he spoke, and took the reins from her. She relinquished them unheedingly. ‘If that is indeed so, I can’t deny that it is a great deal better than a flight to the Border, but a marriage performed in such circumstances must give rise to the most odious gossip! I cannot allow it!’
‘There’s no need to fly into high fidgets,’ said his lordship, possibly to soothe alarm, but with a sad lack of sensibility. ‘Caroline is a pretty ninnyhammer, but Windlesham is a man of excellent good sense, and can be depended on to put his foot down on such a scheme.’
‘Yes, but –’
‘Oh, for God’s sake – !’ he exclaimed. ‘Can’t you think of anything but that addle-brained pair? For my part, they may go to the devil! I’m sick and tired of both, and have been thinking them a dead bore for the last three hours!’
Jerked by this sudden violence from her preoccupation, she realized that the horses had been set in motion. ‘Pray, where are we off to?’ she demanded. ‘If Arthur has taken Lucy to his sister’s house we have no need to proceed farther north! How can you be so idiotish, Iver?’
‘I’m not idiotish,’ he replied, with an odd laugh. ‘We set out for Gretna Green, and to Gretna Green we’ll go! Our immediate destination, however, is Coltersworth. We shall spend the night at the Angel, and tomorrow, unless you should very much dislike it, we will resume our journey to the Border.’
‘I should dislike it excessively,’ said Miss Tresilian, after a little pause.
He halted his team and turned, laying his hand on one of hers, and strongly grasping it. ‘Nell!’ he said, in quite another voice. ‘So many years wasted – so much bitterness – ! Nell, my dear love, don’t say it’s too late! You must marry me – you shall!’
Her fingers clung to his, and there was the sparkle of tears in her smiling eyes, but she replied with great dignity: ‘I have every intention of marrying you, but not, I promise you, in such a clandestine fashion as that! Iver, for heaven’s sake – ! There’s an Accommodation coach coming towards us – George!’
But as his lordship, with his usual top-lofty disregard of appearances, paid no heed whatsoever to this warning, and Miss Tresilian was powerless (even had she made the attempt) to free herself from his embrace, the roof passengers on the coach were afforded a shocking example of the decay of modern manners, one moralist going so far as to express his desire to see such shameless persons set in the stocks. ‘Kissing and hugging on the public highway!’ he said, craning his neck to obtain the last possible glimpse of the disgusting spectacle. ‘Calling themselves Quality, too!’
But in this he was wrong. With her cheek against his lordship’s, Miss Tresilian said, on a choke of laughter: ‘What a vulgar couple we are, love!’
‘Well, who cares a rush for that?’ he demanded. ‘Oh, my darling, what fools we have been!’
Bath Miss
1
Papa,’ said Miss Massingham, ‘is persuaded you would have not the least objection, or you may be sure I should not have ventured to ask you, dear Charles, for perhaps you might not quite wish to oblige him in this way.’
She paused, and glanced doubtfully up at dear Charles. It could not have been said that his handsome countenance bore the expression of one delighted to oblige his Mama’s old friend, but he bowed politely. Miss Massingham reminded herself that this elegant gentleman, with his great shoulders setting off a coat of blue superfine, and his shapely leg encased in a skin-tight pantaloon and a Hessian boot of dazzling gloss, was the bouncing baby on whom, thirty years before, she had bestowed a coral rattle. She said archly: ‘You are grown so grand that I declare I stand quite in awe of you!’
The expression of boredom on Sir Charles Wainfleet’s countenance became more pronounced.
‘I am sure, a most notable dandy!’ said Miss Massingham, hopeful of giving pleasure.
‘Believe me, ma’am, you flatter me!’ said Sir Charles.
The third person present here came, as her duty was, to his rescue. ‘No, Louisa!’ she said. ‘Not a dandy! They only care for their clothes, and Charles cares for a great deal besides, such as prize-fighting, and cocking, and all the horridest things! He is a Corinthian!’
‘Thank you, Mama, but shall we leave this subject, and discover instead just what it is that the General feels I shall have not the least objection to doing?’
Encouraged by this speech, Miss Massingham plunged into a tan
gle of words. ‘It is so very obliging of you! The notion came into Papa’s head when I mentioned the circumstance of your Mama’s going to Bath next week, and that you mean to escort her! “Well, then,” he said, “if that is so, Charles may bring Anne home!” I instantly demurred, but, “Balderdash!” exclaimed Papa – you know his soldierly way! – “If he fancies himself to have become too great a man to escort my granddaughter home from school, let him come and tell me so!” Which, however, I do beg you will not do, Charles, for Papa’s gout has been very troublesome lately!’
‘Have no fear, ma’am! I should not dare!’ said Sir Charles, his weary boredom suddenly dissipated by a smile of singular charm.
‘Oh, Charles, you are so very – ! The thing is, you see, that ever since the Mail was held up in that shocking way at Hounslow last month we have not known how to bring Nan home in safety! You must know that she has been a parlour boarder this year past at the Misses Titterstone’s seminary in Queen’s Square, and we have promised that she shall come home at Christmas. But for the circumstance of Papa’s illness last winter, we had intended – but it was not to be! And now we find ourselves at a stand, and how we may entrust my poor brother’s only child, left to our care when he was killed in that dreadful Peninsula – how we may entrust her, as I say, to the perils of the road, without some gentleman to escort her, we know not! And I am confident,’ added Miss Massingham earnestly, ‘that she would not tease you, Charles, for we shall send her old nurse down to Bath, and you need do no more than drive your curricle within sight of the chaise, and so we may be easy!’
If Sir Charles wondered why General Sir James Massingham should consider that his presence, within sight of his granddaughter’s chaise, would afford a better protection against highwaymen than an armed escort, he did not betray this. Nor did he betray the reluctance of a Nonpareil to assume charge of a Bath miss. It was Lady Wainfleet who raised an objection. ‘Oh, but I depend on having Charles with me for Christmas!’ she said. ‘Dearest Almeria has been to visit me today, expressly to tell me that she will be in Bath herself for several weeks. She is to stay with her aunt, in Camden Place, and her brother, Stourbridge, is to bring her to town only a few days after we ourselves shall have left.’
Pistols for Two Page 5
