“He - his lordship - is not so unwell as that, is he?” Letty asked, the colour fading from her face.
“Let us hope not.”
“Perhaps I should go and take a look at him,” the Major murmured.
“Very thoughtful of you,” the Countess returned, “but it seems to me there are quite enough people hanging over him. Ah, there you are, Archibald! What have you been doing?”
Lord Archibald had come into the room, no doubt in response to her ladyship’s command. He was followed by Aspasia, who looked anxious.
“I took Mrs Ripley to visit Frederick,” he said.
“How is he?” Letty asked.
“I believe him to be improving,” Archie responded. “I have ordered everything remaining from last night’s dinner to be examined for traces of anything noxious which might, possibly by accident, have got into his food.”
“Is he that bad? Poisoned?” the Major asked, also looking worried.
“He was earlier today, certainly. His illness began last night but he did not report it to anyone until this morning. He became violently ill just after Mrs Ripley and Miss Denton had set off for Tunbridge Wells. I sent for Dr Stone, who has been assiduous in his treatment, the details of which I will spare you. It was the doctor who suggested that he might have been poisoned – I think on account of the gravity of some of his symptoms.”
“Just like your father,” the Countess said. “Nothing was found then and I don’t suppose anything will be this time. Waste of time and gets the servants worked up unnecessarily. Have you examined the bottles of whatever he drank late last night? Like your father, he has a habit of going to the library after everyone else has retired to imbibe some sort of spirituous liquor – brandy, I think.”
“Oh, yes,” Archie said, glancing at Aspasia with a little twist of his lips. “I tasted it.”
“What?”
It was Letty who cried out. At the same time, she jumped up, knocking over her chair in her haste, and ran to him.
“Have you drunk poison? How could you do anything so stupid?”
“Do you care?” he asked, looking down at her as she clutched his injured arm.
“Was it poisoned?” she asked, ignoring his question.
“I don’t know yet – only tried it ten minutes ago.”
“You seem very concerned,” the Countess observed, frowning at Letty. “Did you put something in the bottle in an attempt to dispose of the fiancé you’ve grown tired of? Silly girl – you should have poured the rest of the bottle away before anyone could find it.”
“Is that what you’d do?” Letty asked, rounding on the Countess.
“It’s what anyone with any sense would do,” the old lady responded with an unpleasant smile. “Are you feeling quite well, Archibald?”
“Yes, perfectly, thank you. I’m fairly sure there wasn’t anything in the brandy that shouldn’t have been there; it tasted quite as usual to me.” He turned to Aspasia and invited her to sit down and eat her nuncheon.
“I hope you will eat something too,” she said, obeying.
“Indeed; I’m famished – must be on account of drinking brandy on an empty stomach. It’s all right, Letty,” he added, putting his hand over hers, “I’m sure I haven’t been poisoned and I don’t suppose Frederick has either. He’s improving, although I don’t think he’ll be well enough to make more than a fleeting appearance this evening.”
“I suppose he will want me to deal with all the arrangements,” the Countess said.
“Not at all. He has entrusted me with everything, so I think I’ll confer with Crabb and Mrs Black as soon as I’ve had something to eat. Let me go, Letty; how am I to eat anything if you continue to hang on to me like that? I’m not about to die.”
He was still covering her hand with his, which had not loosed its grasp where it lay upon his arm.
“You are not strong,” she said.
“Strong enough to force you to unhand me,” he said, doing so. “I am quite robust inside – more so than poor Frederick in any event. If you want to do something for me, you can cut up my ham.”
“Of course.”
She let go of him, sat down again and set herself to cut up the slices of ham and beef which the Major had put on to a plate. Her face bent over the task, she soon had the meat reduced to a pile of tiny pieces.
“I am not a baby,” he reminded her. “I can manage larger bits than that.”
“Oh!” She flushed, looked up at him and gasped, apparently noticing for the first time that he was not wearing the eye patch.
“I left it in the library,” he said.
“I thought I would never see both your eyes again,” she whispered, staring at him as though desirous of imprinting his features upon her mind.
“I – pray do not look if it upsets you,” he muttered.
“No. Now you are the Archie I knew before!”
“Not quite. May I ask what you mean?”
“Only that – that piratical person wasn’t you really, was it?”
He shook his head and said, “Is that all it has taken to make you recognise me – to see both my eyes?”
“Yes.”
“Dear me! I don’t think I entirely realised that your coldness towards me was largely due to your not quite knowing who I was.” He spoke icily.
“Oh, you don’t understand!” she cried.
“On the contrary, I think I understand very well.”
The Countess, who had been staring first at her son and then at Letty with a sort of horrified dawning comprehension, uttered an explosive sound not unlike a gunshot which drew everyone’s attention to her.
“Take that girl away!” she almost screamed at Aspasia. “I will not have her upsetting everyone! As for you, Archibald, have you gone soft in the head?”
“I don’t think so, Mama,” he answered, pushing the plate holding his slice of bread towards Letty. “Before Mama drives you from the house, will you butter my bread, my love?”
“Your love?” Letty asked, looking up at him. “I thought you despised me.”
“I cannot conceive what gave you that impression unless it is that you have ascribed your own sentiments to me. You can cut that peach for me too while you are about it.”
Letty, her head bowed, did as she was bid without a word.
“Take her out!” the Countess repeated in a high voice.
“No, Mama. I wish her to remain,” Archie said. “She is performing a useful service.”
“Anyone can do that,” his mother answered. “Give me the knife.” She reached over and attempted to snatch it from Letty but the younger woman held on to it so that the rest of the party was treated to the unedifying spectacle of the Dowager and the guest wrestling with a table knife dripping with peach juice and liberally smeared with butter.
“Stop that at once!” Lord Archibald suddenly boomed, for the first time demonstrating something of the authority which had led to his rapid promotion in the army.
Both women let go of the implement simultaneously so that it fell on to the table with a clatter.
Archie, ignoring it, went on, “Frederick has asked me to tell you that the ball will go ahead and that, since he is not quite up to snuff yet, I am to stand in for him. After nuncheon I will confer with the staff, as I said, and I hope the rest of you will find something to occupy you until dinner - which will be served early so that it can all be cleared away in good time before the guests start arriving.”
“Is there anything we can do to help?” the Major asked.
“Yes; if you wish, you could see about arranging the small saloon as a card room. Frederick says there are always some people who prefer cards to dancing and that we must provide them with a suitable place to retire from the fray.
“Mrs Ripley and Letty can oversee the flowers if they are looking for an occupation,” he went on. “I will ask Mrs Black to confer with you.
“Mama, I hope you will not be too fatigued to attend; it might be a wise precaution for you to lie down u
pon your bed for an hour or two.”
“Are you sending me to bed?” she asked, furious.
“Yes.”
“Frederick would never have dared do such a thing,” she argued, raising her chin and fixing a pair of icy blue eyes upon him.
“No; I am aware of that and suspect that his failure to control your starts lies behind much of your overbearing behaviour. Tonight’s can hardly be described as a grand ball and has only been arranged as a means of introducing Letitia to the neighbourhood. He does not wish it to be too formal an affair and, frankly, Mama, it is time you permitted him to order things as he wishes in his own house. He is nearer forty than thirty and is quite capable of managing his own affairs – and deciding whom he wishes to marry.”
“He may be considered old enough,” she snapped, “but clearly he has little idea of how to go about it for the bride he’s chosen could hardly be more unsuitable for the purpose.”
“What?” Letty screeched.
“Hold your tongue,” Archie told her with a look whose severity was belied by the amusement in his eyes. “You will all find me a far less pleasant ruler than Frederick, I promise. I intend to be nothing less than an autocrat.”
Chapter 31
Lord Archibald’s preparations seemed to go smoothly, everyone did as they were bid – including his mother who retired to her own quarters without further argument after nuncheon - so that, when the party sat down to dinner, everything had been done more or less as he had ordered.
The Earl did not appear for dinner although, when Aspasia visited him shortly before it was to be served, she found him much improved with a faint tinge of colour in his cheeks and a firm intention of coming downstairs to greet his guests.
“I want to see you in your new dress,” he told her.
“I can come up here and pirouette in front of you if you would rather not leave your bed.”
“What a delightful prospect but, if the neighbourhood is not to be filled with gossip that I am on my deathbed, I believe I must make an appearance, even if it is brief. How has Archibald managed so far?”
“Excellently. He would insist on tasting the brandy and I am glad to report that he has not, at least so far, suffered any ill effects. He has, however, locked the bottle away and put the key in his pocket so that, if it does contain anything toxic, you will not have the death of a guest upon your conscience.”
“Good. So, in your opinion, he is stepping into my shoes in an admirable manner?”
“Well, yes, I own he is. I think the turning point was when he sent his mother to bed after nuncheon and told Letty to hold her tongue. They are the two most rebellious members of the household, so far as I can see, and they both fell into line at once, although not without some muttering on her ladyship’s part.”
The Earl gave a shout of laughter. “And Letty?”
“She was so unnerved at her Archie having tasted the brandy that she had already knuckled down to doing as he bid even if she was not quite so ready to obey her ladyship. She cut up his meat and buttered his bread as though she had been a sort of humble handmaid.”
“Did she, by Jupiter? And what did Archibald make of that?”
“At first I think he thought it quite amusing until he began to suspect that she had changed her mind about him again only because he had taken off his eye patch.”
“They are absurd children,” the Earl said, still amused. “He seems to have taken it into his head that she only ever valued him for his looks and will settle for nothing less than her declaring that she has no objection to wedding a monster. She, on the other hand – well, what is your conclusion?”
“I think you may be right about him – that he wants her to love him regardless of his appearance, which is not unreasonable. I suspect it is one of the inescapable insecurities of the handsome: they cannot quite believe they might be valued for anything other than their appearance. As for her, I think, from her reaction just now, that she hardly recognised him before and that is what put her off more than that he had become monstrous. I know it seems very peculiar – and horrifyingly petty – but you must remember that, apart from fevered letters which were intercepted after a fairly short time, they have only actually seen each other twice so that, when she first saw him, bent and frail, she could not believe this was the man she had sworn to love for ever. Since then, they have become more familiar with each other and have, I think, natures which dovetail well. He is a good man - kind and loyal - and also, we have discovered this afternoon, not without natural authority – and she is becoming less self-centred. Are you really prepared to cede her to him?”
“Good Lord, yes. I want the aunt, remember! Do you think they will make a match of it then? What about Sharpthorne?”
“I don’t know. He is to leave tomorrow so that, if he does want her, he had better declare himself tonight. I suppose it may be you who is the stumbling block so far as he is concerned. Should you, do you think, explain matters to him?”
“No; if he’s such a milksop that he can’t make a push to attach the girl if he wants her, he won’t be able to deal with her later. He’s not in leading-strings and I don’t think it’s my place to intervene – with any of them. Archibald must make his move too although he’s got a bit more time to spare.”
“I think Lady Stonegate began to suspect, when she saw Letty’s dramatic reaction to the idea that he might have drunk poisoned brandy, that she may take Archie in the end – and was exceedingly displeased. I am not quite sure why she would rather she married you than him.”
“Oh, I think it’s because, in spite of the fact that she lives here – and will very likely continue to do so – she would like him to have a wife she can command.”
“It seems to me she has already lost a good deal of her control over him – that much was evident when he sent her to bed. Do you think she’d prefer Letty to be your wife?”
“I don’t think she wants Letty here as anyone’s wife but I daresay she would rather she contracted a marriage of convenience. She knows that, in a love match, she won’t stand a chance of getting her own way! Fortunately, I don’t think she’s noticed anything between us.”
“No. I am far too old and passée to arouse her suspicions.”
“You keep your cards close to your chest whereas Letty flings hers around everywhere and expects other people to help her choose how to play them, only to reject their advice at the last minute.”
Shortly after this exchange Aspasia drove Letty up the stairs to change for the ball. Both Wilson and Bess were in attendance so that it did not take more than an hour to dress their hair. Aspasia, eschewing the cap she thought proper and not confident enough to wear feathers, also had her coiffure threaded with ribbon.
They found the rest of the party gathered in the saloon. The Countess was magnificently dressed in purple and sported a fine set of feathers, which made Aspasia thankful that she had not had the temerity to adopt a similar arrangement. Her ladyship looked the guests over as though determined to find fault but, encountering a quelling look from her son, closed her mouth with a sigh.
Captain Sharpthorne went immediately to Letty’s side, paid her a vast number of compliments, which she received graciously, and reserved more than one dance, although she pointed out that, since the event was fairly informal, she might forget as she had no dance card on which to record them.
“I will hope for the best,” he promised, gazing at her with considerably more admiration than usual so that Aspasia began to wonder if he would make a declaration during the evening.
Letty did look ravishing in the pale jonquil silk – only a smidgen darker than cream - which was trimmed with foaming lace at the bosom, on the tiny puffed sleeves and in a deep double frill around the hem. The newly promoted maid, Bess, had achieved wonders with her tawny hair, somehow arranging it so that the paler streaks resembled strings of pearls. It was the first time she had been dressed for a ball and, looking at herself in the mirror before she came down, she had bee
n both amazed and delighted.
Ever since Lord Archibald had come into the small dining room without his eye patch and declared that he had drunk what might have been poisoned brandy, she had been in something of a ferment. Seeing him bare-faced, meeting – only too briefly before she said something which had caused the shutters to clatter down in his face – those well-remembered blue eyes, her heart had turned over and she knew without a shadow of doubt that her original vow to love him for ever had not – and never could – be broken.
Why had she thought it could? Was it really only the sight of him limping towards her, his shoulders bent and his face hideously scarred? Yes, that had been shocking, but it had been more than that. She could not be so lacking in normal human feeling that, instead of wanting to enfold him in her arms, she had wanted nothing more than to run away. She had at first believed this to be the explanation and drew the conclusion that she must have fallen in love with his beauty; with that lost, she felt nothing – not even, shockingly, pity.
Recalling with shame her reaction at the time and striving to look at what it revealed about her own character, she came to the conclusion that her overwhelming emotion had been disappointment; he was not the man she remembered, the one of whom she had dreamed every night and for the greater part of every day since that first coup de foudre in the library at home. That was why she had described herself as feeling empty: her dream had dissolved - as dreams are wont to do on waking - leaving nothing but a hollow behind.
The corporeal Lord Archibald was a man, now aged twenty-eight and aeons older than the almost-boy she had first met. He had gone to war and suffered unimaginable injuries. She did not know the real man, had never known him. She wondered if she would have felt the same devastating sense of loss if he had not been wounded, for it was the light of day and the passage of time that had driven the fantasy away. Because he looked so horrifying, she – and everyone else – had thought her revulsion was simply on account of his appearance. It was, but not – or not much - because he was mutilated; rather it was because he was a stranger.
Letitia Or The Convalescent Heart Page 26
