The Nonesuch

by Georgette Heyer

  ‘Bravo!’ applauded the Rector, gently clapping his hands. ‘Very pretty! Very pretty indeed!’

  ‘Oh, do you think so, Papa?’ Patience said eagerly. ‘I was dreadfully awkward, and kept missing my step! But, if you don’t think it indecorous, I-I should like to learn to do it correctly. It is so exhilarating!’

  It was this impulsive utterance which made Mrs Chartley say, later: ‘My dear John, I marvel at your countenancing this most improper dance! When they went down the room together, with his left hand holding her right one above their heads, his right hand was clasping her waist !’

  ‘For guidance, my love!’ said the Rector. ‘Lindeth had no amorous intention! I saw nothing improper. Indeed, I should have wished to see Patience a trifle less unyielding – but I daresay she was awkward from ignorance!’

  ‘It’s my belief,’ said Mrs Chartley severely, ‘that you would like to dance the waltz yourself !’

  ‘No, no, not at my age!’ he said guiltily. A smile crept into his eyes. ‘But if it had been in fashion when I was a young man, and not, of course, in orders, I should have danced it – and with you, my love! Would you have disliked it?’

  A dimple quivered in her cheek, but she said: ‘My mother would never have permitted such a thing. Do you, in all sincerity, expect me to permit Patience to – to twirl round a ballroom in a male embrace – for I can call it nothing less than that!’

  ‘You are the best judge of what she should do, my dear, and I must leave it to you to decide. I must own, however, that I should not wish to see Patience sitting against the wall while her friends are, as you phrase it, twirling round the room.’

  ‘No,’ agreed Mrs Chartley, forcibly struck by this aspect. ‘No, indeed!’

  ‘Far be it from me to desire her to outshine her friends,’ said the Rector unconvincingly, ‘but I have sometimes thought that although she cannot rival little Tiffany’s beauty she is by far the more graceful dancer.’

  These words afforded his wife food for considerable thought. She could not be perfectly reconciled, but her resolution wavered. The reference to Tiffany, little though the Rector knew it, had operated powerfully upon her. She was not, she hoped, a worldly woman, but neither was she so saintly (or so unnatural a parent) as to be unmoved by the spectacle of her daughter’s being cast into the shade by an odiously precocious little baggage who was wild to a fault, as vain as she was beautiful, and wholly wanting in character and disposition. Mrs Chartley, in fact, did not like Tiffany Wield; and she had been thinking for some time that it was sad to see such a delightful young man as Lindeth in her toils. Heaven knew she was no matchmaking mother! Unlike certain of her husband’s parishioners, she had made not the smallest attempt to throw her child in his lordship’s way; but when she had watched him dancing with Patience the thought had flashed across her mind that they were a remarkably well-suited couple. Lindeth was just the sort of young man she would have chosen for Patience. It was one thing to make no push to engage his interest in the child, but quite another to throw obstacles in the way of his becoming better acquainted with her.

  She was still in a state of indecision when the matter was clinched by an invitation to Patience from Mrs Underhill, to attend one or two morning dances at Staples, to practise the waltz.

  ‘Morning dances!’ she exclaimed. ‘Good gracious, what next?’

  Patience, her eyes shining, and her cheeks in a glow, said: ‘It was Tiffany’s suggestion, Mama, and Miss Trent says it is quite true that they have become the fashion in London. Just to enable people to practise waltzes and quadrilles, you know. And she has undertaken to play for us, and tell us all how to waltz in the correct manner. Mama, nearly all my friends are going! And even Courtenay Underhill, and the Banninghams, and Arthur Mickleby are determined to learn! And Lord Lindeth and Mr Ash have been so obliging as to promise to come too, to show us the way. And Mrs Underhill will be present, and –’

  ‘My dear, how you do run on!’

  ‘I beg your pardon, ma’am! Only, may I go? Not if you dislike it – but I should like to so very much!’

  Mrs Chartley could not withstand such an appeal. ‘Well, my love, since your papa sees no harm in it, and the ball is to be a private one, not a public assembly, –’

  ‘Oh, thank you, Mama!’ breathed Patience. ‘Now I can look forward to it, which I didn’t when I thought I should be obliged to sit down when the others were all dancing!’

  ‘No, that would never do,’ agreed Mrs Chartley, visualizing such a scene with profound disapprobation.

  ‘It is going to be a beautiful party!’ confided Patience. ‘There are to be coloured lamps in the garden, and – but this is a great secret, Mama, which Lizzie whispered to me! – a firework display at midnight!’

  ‘It’s to be hoped, then, that it doesn’t rain,’ said Mrs Chartley.

  ‘Oh, don’t suggest such a thing!’ begged Patience. ‘Mama, would you think it very extravagant if I were to purchase a new reticule for it? I’ve been to so many parties that mine is looking sadly shabby.’

  ‘No, not at all. You know, my dear, I have been thinking that if you were to bring back a length of satin from Leeds on Friday we could very easily make a fresh underdress for your gauze ball-dress. I never did like the green we chose. A soft shade of pink would become you. And if you can find some velvet ribbon to match it – How vexatious it is that I can’t go with you! But Dr Wibsey threatens me with all manner of evil consequences if I don’t continue to be invalidish until the end of the week at least, so if I am to take you to this ball next week I suppose I must do what he tells me. Well, you will have Miss Trent to advise you! Let yourself be guided by her: she has excellent taste!’

  What with the dissipation of waltzing at Staples all one rainy morning, and the prospect of an orgy of spending in Leeds, attended by a nuncheon-party, it was in a festive mood that Patience awaited the arrival of the Staples carriage on Friday morning. She had arrayed herself for the occasion in her best walking-dress of figured muslin, with long sleeves, and a double flounce round the hem; on her head she wore a pretty straw bonnet, trimmed with flowers; on her feet sandals of tan kid; in one hand she held a small parasol; and in the other (very tightly) a stocking-purse containing the enormous largesse bestowed on her by her Mama. It seemed quite profligate to spend so much money on her adornment, for although the Rector had been born to an independence which enabled him to command the elegancies of life he had reared his children in habits of economy, and in the belief that it was wrong to set store by one’s appearance. ‘Going to waste your money on more finery?’ he had said, smiling, but disapproving too. ‘My dear sir,’ had said Mama, ‘you would not wish your daughter to be seen in worn-out slippers and soiled gloves, I hope!’ Afterwards she had explained the suppression of the pink satin and the velvet ribbon, saying in a confidential tone which made Patience feel suddenly very much more grown-up, that it was better not to talk to men about frills and furbelows, because they had no understanding of such things, and were merely bored by feminine chatter.

  Miss Trent thought that she had seldom seen Patience in such good looks, and reflected that nothing became a girl so well as a glow of pleasurable excitement. She was inevitably dimmed by Tiffany, who was in great beauty, and wearing a dashing bonnet with a very high crown and a huge, upstanding poke framing her face, but there was something very taking about her countenance; and her eyes, though lacking the brilliance of Tiffany’s, held a particularly sweet expression.

  The drive into Leeds, once Patience had won a spirited argument with Miss Trent on which of them really preferred to sit with her back to the horses, was accomplished in perfect amity. Tiffany took no part in a dispute which she felt to be no concern of hers, but she was very ready to discuss with her companions the various purchases she meant to make in the town, and to show a civil, if fleeting, interest in Patience’s more modest requirements. Being a
considerable heiress she had a great deal of pin-money allowed her; and as, unlike Patience, she had not the smallest notion of economy, it was enough for her to see something that took her fancy to make her buy it immediately. Her drawers were crammed with the expensive spoils of her visits to Leeds or Harrogate, most of which she had decided did not become her, or which were not as pretty as she had at first thought them. They ranged from innumerable pairs of rosettes for slippers to a Spartan diadem which (mercifully) was found to make her look positively haggish; and included such diverse items as an Angola shawl suitable for a dowager, a pair of Spanish slippers of sea-green kid, three muffs of spotted ermine, chinchilla, and swansdown, a tangle of spangled ribbon, and a set of head ornaments of silver filigree. She was obliged, at present, to apply to Mrs Underhill whenever she wanted to draw on her allowance. What would happen when she came into full possession of her fortune was a question which conjured up nightmarish visions in the mind of a conscientious governess; and Miss Trent had made persistent and extremely exhausting efforts to instil into her head some glimmerings of the value of money. She had failed, and as she was not one to fling her cap after the impossible there was nothing left for her to do but to check Tiffany’s extravagance by whatever means her ingenuity might suggest to her; and to excuse her failure by the reflection that the control of that volatile damsel’s inheritance would pass into the hands of her unknown but inevitable husband.

  When they reached Leeds they alighted from the carriage at the King’s Arms, and set forth on foot down the main shopping street. Leeds was a thriving and rapidly expanding town, numbering amongst its public edifices two Cloth Halls (one of which was of impressive dimensions, and was divided into six covered streets); five Churches; a Moot Hall; the Exchange (a handsome building of octangular design); an Infirmary; a House of Recovery for persons afflicted with infectious diseases; a Charity school, clothing and educating upwards of a hundred children, and over which (had they but known it) Sir Waldo Hawkridge was, at the time of their arrival in the town, being escorted by several of the Governors; a number of cloth and carpet manufactories; several cotton mills, and foundries; inns innumerable; and half-a-dozen excellent posting-houses. The buildings were for the most part of red brick, beginning to be blackened by the smoke of industry; and while none could be thought magnificent there were several Squares and Parades which contained private residences of considerable elegance. There were some very good shops and silk warehouses; and it was not long before Miss Trent’s ingenuity was put to the test, Tiffany falling in love first with a pair of gold French shoe-buckles ornamented with paste; and next with a Surprise fan of crape, lavishly embellished with purple and gold devices. Miss Trent had never seen anything so exquisite as the buckles, and bemoaned the change in fashion which had made it impossible for anyone to wear them now without appearing perfectly Gothic. As for the fan, she agreed that it was a most amusing trifle: just what she would wish to buy for herself, if it had not been so excessively ugly!

  These hazards successfully skirted, she steered her charges into a large and entrancing establishment, where both young ladies bought some gloves and some ribbons, and Tiffany several pairs of silk stockings, which aroused such envy in Miss Chartley’s gentle bosom that she determined to save twelve shillings from the sum reposing in her purse so that she could buy just one pair to wear at the Colebatches’ ball.

  After this they visited the silk warehouse which enjoyed Mrs Chartley’s patronage; and while Tiffany, who soon lost interest in the choice of a satin to furnish a new underdress for Patience’s gauze ball-gown, wandered about, inspecting silks and velvets, with a dazed and slavishly admiring young shopman in attendance, Miss Trent placed her taste and experience at her young friend’s disposal. A very reasonably priced satin of a charming shade of pink having been discovered, there was only enough time left before the ladies’ assignation with Lord Lindeth for the purchase of Patience’s new dancing-sandals. This was soon accomplished, and although it took several minutes to dissuade Tiffany from investing in a pair of pale blue silk sandals, they returned to the King’s Arms before their host had begun to entertain any very serious fear that some accident must have overtaken them.

  He was awaiting them in a private parlour, and it was evident from the array of cold meats, fruit, jellies, and creams on the table that he had taken great pains over their entertainment. Only one thing, in Miss Trent’s view, was wanting. For no persuasion would she have betrayed the smallest interest in the whereabouts of the Nonesuch; but when Tiffany, who had few reserves, demanded to know why he was not present, she felt, for once, no desire to censure this unbecoming pertness.

  ‘He’ll be here presently,’ Lindeth answered. ‘We won’t wait for him, however: he warned me not to – said I was to make his apologies, if he was detained. I daresay he is still interviewing bailiffs! From what I saw, that lawyer – what’s his name? – Smeeth! – had a score of ’em drawn up in line for his inspection!’

  ‘Oh!’ Tiffany said, pouting. ‘Dull work!’

  ‘Well –’ He hesitated, and then said: ‘Yes, of course it is – dull work for a lady, I mean.’

  ‘I should suppose it must be very difficult,’ said Patience thoughtfully. ‘In particular, if you mean to leave the bailiff in sole charge. One hears of such shocking instances of tyranny, and neglect – though my father says the fault too often lies at the landlord’s door.’

  ‘Yes, very true,’ he agreed. ‘Screws like old Joseph Calver, wringing every groat it will yield out of his land, and leasing his farms on short terms to thriftless get-pennies, because –’ He stopped, seeing the frown that creased Tiffany’s brow. ‘But I don’t know why we should be talking about such things, and boring Miss Wield!’

  ‘No, nor do I!’ she said, all demure mischief. ‘Tell me why?’

  He laughed. ‘Not for the world! I’ll invite you to the table instead! I hope you are very hungry! Miss Trent, will you sit here, and may I carve you some chicken?’

  ‘Misuse of language, Lindeth: hack is the word!’ said Sir Waldo, entering the parlour at that moment. ‘How do you do, ma’am? Miss Chartley, your very obedient! Miss Wield, yours! I beg all your pardons: I’m late!’

  ‘Now, that puts me in mind of a remark someone once made to me,’ said Miss Trent, apparently chasing an elusive re-collection. ‘Something about becoming inured to unpunctuality… Who can have said that, I wonder? I have the wretchedest memory!’

  ‘Then you should not attempt quotation, ma’am!’ retorted Sir Waldo, a laugh in his eye. ‘“To the unpunctuality of your sex” was what I said.’

  ‘Oh, no, did he, ma’am?’ exclaimed Lindeth. ‘That’s famous. Hoist with his own petard! ’

  ‘What does that mean, pray?’ asked Tiffany.

  ‘You must not ask me,’ responded Sir Waldo, with a reproving look. ‘Lindeth shouldn’t say such things in the presence of ladies.’

  ‘Oh, is it improper?’ she said innocently.

  ‘Most improper!’ he replied, his gravity unimpaired.

  She saw that the others were laughing, and put up her chin, flushing slightly. But as Sir Waldo, taking his seat beside her at the table, asked her to tell him all about the morning’s shopping expedition, showing a gratifying interest in her purchases, she very soon mended her temper, and prattled to him throughout the meal in the greatest good humour.

  A new reticule for Patience, and velvet ribbon to match the pink satin had still to be found. When they rose from the table, Sir Waldo excused himself, and went away to resume his inspection of bailiffs; but Lindeth, declaring that he had a very good eye for colour, begged to be allowed to escort the ladies. Since the Nonesuch had devoted himself to Tiffany’s entertainment at the table, Julian, wondering at this most unusual want of conduct in his cousin, had done his best to keep both his other guests amused; and he had succeeded very well. But Miss Trent, ably seconding his efforts, was assailed
by apprehension. The faint suspicion, which had crossed her mind once or twice before, that Miss Chartley was more powerfully attracted to Lindeth than she would have wished anyone to guess was strengthened. The Rector’s well-brought up daughter was behaving just as she ought, but the light in her soft eyes when she raised them to his lordship’s face was, thought Miss Trent, unmistakeably tender. Like Mrs Chartley, she could not help feeling that they would be very well-suited to one another; but while she knew, on the authority of chroniclers and poets, that it was by no means unusual for a gentleman to transfer his affections almost in the twinkling of an eye (witness the extraordinary revulsion of feeling experienced by young Mr Montague when he first clapped eyes on Miss Capulet!), she did not know whether the Nonesuch would look upon Patience with approbation. Miss Trent could not doubt that if he did not he would contrive to thrust a spoke into the wheel of a possible courtship. That realization, she thought, should have been enough to warn her that he was probably an unscrupulous man of whom she would do well to beware. The mischief was that while she was just able to admit this possibility in his absence she had only to meet his eyes across a room to become instantly convinced of his integrity.

  He found an opportunity to exchange a few words with her before he left the King’s Arms, asking abruptly: ‘Shall I see you at the Colebatches’ ball?’

  ‘Yes. I have been invited to go, and my kind mistress says I may – or, rather, insists that I must!’

  ‘En chaperon? ’

  ‘No, she goes herself, so I am to enjoy a holiday.’

  ‘Then I shan’t cry off from it.’

  He did not wait for an answer, but with a smile, and a brief handshake, took his departure.

  The next hour was spent very agreeably by the rest of the party in various shops, where not only was a reticule found, and the satin exactly matched, but where Tiffany bought a pair of filigree earrings, and Miss Trent a spray of artificial flowers to wear with her only ball-dress. Lindeth’s presence added a good deal of gaiety to the expedition. He took a keen interest in the various purchases, but as he knew very little about feminine fashions he made some wonderful blunders, which rapidly induced a mood of hilarity in his companions. He also discovered a pastrycook’s shop advertizing ice-creams; and as the ladies were all feeling hot, and a trifle weary, he experienced no difficulty in persuading them to enter it. Tiffany, puffing off her knowledge, said that it was just like Gunter’s: an inaccurate statement, but one which showed her to be in her best humour. Miss Trent thought that she had seldom spent a more pleasant day in her company.