Lady Elizabeth's Comet

by Sheila Simonson

  I regarded her suspiciously. The twins brightened.

  "Very well, Miss Bluestone, so long as Alice doesn't desert me." Alice proved staunch. Bevis did not.

  Chapter 10

  Bevis had not arrived by the time Alice and I--in state, in the barouche--rattled off up the drive.

  I approached Brecon with mixed feelings. Jenkins ushered us into the yellow salon that adjoins the small dining room, small, that is, in comparison with the State Dining Room, which seats sixty. The yellow salon sparkled with Mrs. Smollet's efforts and about four dozen wax candles.

  I greeted Clanross as coolly as he received me, but I could not altogether repress my surprise that he was using a stick instead of crutches.

  The second surprise--or set of surprises--was the presence of Charles Wharton and Mr. and Mrs. Chacton, he of the mill. Chacton looked suspicious, though no more so than usual. Mrs. Chacton, a small faded woman in lavender lace, seemed to me like nothing so much as a mouse in a trap.

  Charles looked dazed. I deduced he had got his surgery and said so when the flurry of curtseys and bows was over and we could be private.

  "Yes. It's true. I can't credit it, but Clanross writ me so yesterday and asked me to dine here tonight with the Chactons to seal the bargain. This is your doing, Liz." His eyes shone. "I've half a mind to kiss you here and now."

  I laughed. "I've no mind to be kissed. If you're all aquiver with gratitude, go flirt with Miss Conway-Gore. She wants a spot of masculine attention."

  Willoughby was very fine. He had on four watchfobs and a diamond stickpin, and he wore black silk knee breeches that showed his well-muscled calves to perfection.

  "Weston?" I ventured.

  He smiled complacently and smoothed the brocade of a truly magnificent waistcoat with one careful finger. "Nugee. Weston cut off my credit. Dear Liz, who is the red-faced greengrocer?"

  "Hush. Mr. Chacton is a man of wealth and position in the county, and I believe he is about to become a philanthropist. Mr. Chacton, how do you do?" I moved to do my social duty. "It's some time since we met."

  Chacton assembled his hard-bitten features into a smile. "Indeed it is, Lady Elizabeth. I hope, nay, I see I find you in the bloom of good health. I was saying only the other day to Mrs. Chacton, 'Mother,' I said, 'I daresay her ladyship finds it melancholic with Brecon shut up like a tomb.'" He laughed heartily. "Little did we fancy we'd be dining here within the month."

  I made a polite and, I hope, friendly noise.

  He moved closer. "Tell me, my lady, what think you of our enterprise?" He cast a significant glance at Charles.

  "I congratulate you, sir. You could not find a better surgeon anywhere."

  "So Lord Clanross said. Hrmmmph. I daresay you think it odd that I've changed my mind in the matter..."

  "Not at all," I said mendaciously. "Times change, Mr. Chacton. The old order passes."

  "I'd not like you to think me disrespectful of your Papa, seeing how set he was against the project."

  I could only blink at this enormous self-deception.

  Chacton went on at some length about my father's feudal virtues and wound up, handsomely, "He was a true nobleman of the old school, my lady, and we shall miss him. Now his present lordship is cut of different cloth. Hardheaded, some might say, and not so easy in his manners, but he showed me in plain ink on a balance sheet where my gain will lie in this business, and I must say he knows what he's about. Agent to Lord Dunarvon, wasn't he?"

  I blinked again. Chacton spoke of the Scandalous Fact with approval! I assented cautiously.

  "Showed me how Dunarvon's new infirmary at Payton Newtown cut down on his workers' absences. I never thought of the infirmary in that light. Wouldn't have credited it if I hadn't had a letter from Dunarvon confirming every shilling. Production up in the mines."

  I saw that Clanross had moved to Cecilia's side and decided to fill the gap. Mrs. Chacton was momentarily alone.

  "How do you do, Mrs. Chacton? I've been admiring your garnet brooch," I murmured, softly so the mouse would not take flight.

  "Oh, Lady Elizabeth." She swallowed. "Thank you, my lady. Chacton calls it trumpery, for it has no value, but it belonged to a dear aunt and I always wear it to give me courage."

  "I hope you don't feel the need of courage here, ma'am. You must know you're among friends."

  "Oh, yes, dear Lord Clanross. So kind." Inexplicably she dabbed her eyes. "It is just all so...so large, my lady. Brecon, I mean."

  "Too large, my stepmama was used to say. She refused to live here except in July, for she said it reminded her of the catacombs and was impossible to heat. And so it is."

  What Clanross had caused to be done in the dining room rendered it somewhat less grandiose than usual. Even with the épergne and all the extra leaves removed, however, the table was still meant to seat twelve and we were eight. Clanross directed me implacably to the hostess's chair, where I sat through the entire meal listening to Mr. Chacton's plans for a canal to transport his cloth to market.

  Willoughby, seated next to Charles who was on my left, could scarce insert a bon mot. His style suffered from having to be exercised in a genteel shout. The seating was absolutely correct. Clanross had Mrs. Chacton on his right and Alice on his left. This reduced Willoughby and Cecilia to the status of mere relations rather than guests of honour, and I silently hailed Clanross's superior malice. Willoughby was equal to almost anything but indifference. I felt sorry for Cecilia.

  I can't say it was a pleasant meal, though the occasional word I had with Charles pleased me. The courses were long and the room, despite a valiant fire, remained chilly. Willoughby regarded the menu with disbelief, but it seemed to suit Mr. Chacton down to the ground, for he ingested enormous quantities of everything between pronouncements. I had no idea what Clanross thought. Mrs. Chacton and Alice seemed content.

  Just as I was about to signal to the ladies to leave, Jenkins and the footmen entered with champagne and served it out. Clanross rose. Smoothly, considering the length of time he had been sitting.

  "Before the ladies withdraw I have something to announce which will not be news to most of you, but which deserves to be marked with a toast."

  He spoke gravely, with perfect composure. I don't know why I expected him to mumble and stutter.

  "Some weeks ago it was proposed to me that I see to the establishment of a surgery in Chacton for the aid of injured workers at the manufactory there, and that Mr. Wharton of Hazeldell might serve it as chief surgeon." He smiled at Charles or perhaps at me. "As I have reason to know Mr. Wharton's skill, I thought it a good notion. My agent, Mr. Moore, told me the idea was not new. When it was mooted before neither my predecessor nor Mr. Chacton accepted the plan."

  Mr. Chacton shifted in his place, as well he might.

  "Obviously," Clanross said with a straight face, "the plan was at fault. I was unable to call on Mr. Chacton myself, so I writ him, and he very kindly called at Brecon. Several times, in fact, for which I thank him--I know he's a busy man."

  I watched Mr. Chacton puff up his wattles.

  Clanross continued in the same composed voice, "The upshot is that we have come up with an acceptable site nearer the mill and a new design for the building, the cornerstone of which will be laid this summer."

  Clanross's ironical grey gaze rested on Willoughby, fiddling with his champagne glass. "It has been Mrs. Chacton's particular interest for some months now to establish an infant school in memory of her son, Robert, who was killed at Water-loo and whom I had the honour of knowing in the Peninsula. It seemed to us, er, efficient to combine a modern infirmary and surgery with a well-lit, handsome school that will teach some thirty infants their letters. I hope you will join me in saluting Mr. and Mrs. Chacton and the Robert Jones Chacton Memorial Infirmary and Infant School." He said the absurd title without blinking and raised his glass to Mr. Chacton.

  Chacton went purple with pleasure. Mrs. Chacton, at Clanross's right hand, dabbed at her eyes. The rest of us quaffed
our wine and made congratulatory noises, and Clanross subsided into his seat in graceful stages. I heard an anxious grumble from Charles, who was watching him with medical keenness.

  The glory was insufficient for Mr. Chacton. He had to respond. "Very kind in you, my lord. Mrs. Chacton and I thank you. It was a blow to us, losing our youngest, and we searched our mind for some fitting memorial. A plaque in the church isn't...that is, nobody reads the things, and he was a good lad, was Robert. I don't favor newfangled notions about coddling my workers, but there, Mrs. Chacton was set on her school and when his lordship showed me the figures I couldn't hold out against the infirmary either."

  Willoughby made a strangled noise.

  Chacton shot Charles a jovial glance. "You see, Wharton? If you'd showed me my interest we'd have had the place in running order years ago, for I can't think his late lordship would have held out. He was a reasonable man."

  This time I choked but managed to convert my incredulity into a ladylike cough. Mr. Chacton was gesturing to Jenkins to fill our glasses again, and Jenkins did so with stately imperturbability and only a few waverings. The champagne, Bevis notwithstanding, was good.

  Mr. Chacton beamed largely. "I return the compliment, my lord. To you and to our surgeon, Mr. Wharton."

  We all saluted gracefully and drank. Clanross didn't turn a hair, really his composure was startling, but Charles blushed scarlet, and bowed and mumbled a gratified, inaudible response.

  I collected the ladies quickly after that. We whisked up to the withdrawing room where a large fire, steaming coffee, and the afterglow of the champagne thawed us in no time. Mrs. Chacton looked pink about the eyelids but showed no tendency to cowardice.

  I led her to tell me about her school whilst Alice and Cecilia exclaimed and fluttered and exchanged inaccurate descriptions of hospitals, surgeries, infirmaries, contagious hospitals, schools for orphans, homes for fallen women, lunatic asylums, and St. George's, Hanover Square. How that entered the picture I don't know, for I listened to Mrs. Chacton in spite of myself.

  She was surprisingly firm in her belief in the education of the lower classes and definite as to how it should be done. Ere I knew it I was volunteering a prize for the cyphering champion. I think I was a trifle foxed.

  Clanross brought the gentlemen from their libations in short order; notwithstanding, Mr. Chacton and Willoughby looked as if they had managed to down a bumper or two. Charles continued slightly addled and very happy, and Clanross looked tired. It was a pity his ill-health prevented him from enjoying Willoughby's chagrin to the full.

  Not that he had routed Willoughby. I could see my cousin soaking up the details in his capacious memory whence they would issue, satirically transformed, the next time a suitable audience presented itself. "Like an alderman's banquet, my dears. The earl and his greengrocer friend thick as thieves. I could scarce keep my countenance."

  At the moment, though, Willoughby was far from laughter. His eyes glittered unpleasantly as he watched Charles gallanting his sister. I could have told him Charles's birth was as good as his own, but I rather thought Willoughby deserved discomfiture.

  When the Chactons got up to leave, I determined to go down to the foyer with them. Clanross was obviously loathe to try the formidable stairs again.

  As I trotted back up, I rehearsed several charming speeches of congratulation. I thought Clanross expected it. He waited at the head of the staircase, but when I drew nearer and saw he was clinging to the newell, eyes closed, my polished phrases dried up on my tongue.

  "You should be in bed."

  "Nonsense. I'm merely gaining my second wind. Has he gone?" He opened his eyes.

  "Chacton? Yes."

  Clanross straightened experimentally and wriggled his shoulders.

  "How did you bring it off?" I asked, curious.

  "I think you can puzzle that out, Lady Elizabeth." He gave a faint grin. "Chacton reminds me of my first colonel, who was kept from egregious blunders by the combined flattery of his adjutant, two silver-tongued majors, and the colour sergeant. So long as they convinced him that any small regimental accomplishment had been his brilliant idea from the first he was perfectly tractable."

  "I see. The Robert Jones Chacton Infirmary and Infant School." In spite of myself I laughed softly. "Did you really know Robert Chacton?"

  He shrugged and winced at the incautious movement. "Ow. Not very well. He was with one of the cavalry regiments. Bevis knew him better than I did. When is Bevis coming, by the bye?"

  "You heard of it?" I clucked my tongue. "And I meant to surprise you."

  "Then you shouldn't have told Miss Conway-Gore."

  "I had to say something to her. I expected Bevis today, as a matter of fact. Tomorrow at the latest."

  "Thank God for the Middlesex Militia," Clanross muttered.

  "Coward."

  He acknowledged the hit. "One more day of this will roll me up, foot and horse."

  "I'll take Willoughby and Cecilia off your hands tomorrow if you like."

  "How?"

  "I engage to drag them off to Aunt Whitby at Briarlea. You've met her, have you not?"

  "Whitby? Parrot-faced dowager upholstered in diamonds?"

  "That's the one."

  "I accept. I hope she may eat him. Them."

  "Alas, Willoughby is her favourite relation."

  "De gustibus non disputandum."

  "There is, of course, a price."

  "You wish me to endow an observatory. Very well. Two."

  I laughed. "Worse than that. Miss Bluestone, Jean, and Maggie mean to take tea with you."

  He groaned theatrically. "To reproach me for excluding them from the love feast? Yes, of course. Tell them they may eat all the tea cakes. Now I think we ought to return before Gore calls Charles Wharton out." With that he ushered me back into the withdrawing room.

  "Ah, there you are, Clanross," Willoughby said brightly. "I must felicitate you on the variety of your dinner guests. Such a change from monotone Ton gatherings where one is forever bumping into the same people. Whom may we expect tomorrow?"

  "A conventicle of Luddites," Clanross replied. "Do you sing, Miss Conway-Gore?"

  Fortunately, Cecilia sang. So did I. And Charles and Alice. And all four of us together, Alice accompanying on the spinet. I thought Willoughby would strangle in his cravat.

  As Charles, still aglow with musical and medical fervour, took his leave of us, Willoughby murmured in my ear, "The court physician. Will Clanross recommend him to Prinny?"

  I smiled but refused the bait.

  Balked, Willoughby turned to Clanross. "What say you to a rubber of whist?"

  "I don't play." Clanross rang for Jenkins. "You've enough for a table without me, however. I understand Mrs. Finch is a superior player. Ah, Jenkins, the card table, if you please."

  "Beg pardon, my lord. Lord Bevis is come."

  We all pointed like setters.

  "Show him in, man." Clanross took a step forward.

  "He presents his compliments, my lord, and will join you shortly, having gone to his room to remove the traces of his journey." Jenkins bowed and began to wobble about setting up the card table.

  Clanross said abruptly, "If you will pardon me, I'd best see whether Bevis has dined. Pray enjoy your game." He went out, leaning heavily on his stick. I felt a strong if unmaidenly wish to follow him. Thank God for Bevis.

  "Well, thank God for Bevis," Willoughby snapped. "I had begun to believe I must retire at eleven with a milk posset. Shall we play, ladies?"

  We obeyed. Willoughby and Alice trounced Cecilia and me. Cecilia was one of those exasperating players who don't recall the suit or what their partners have laid--or perhaps her mind was on other things. Mine certainly was. All the same I don't believe I'd have trumped her ace.

  I won't say my heart turned over as Bevis entered, but I was very glad to see him. He was alone, his manner a trifle subdued at first, but he complimented Alice on her new cap, which I had failed to notice, gave Cecilia a l
ook so melting she flushed and preened, and kissed all my fingers without in any way calling attention to the gesture. Superb address.

  He greeted Willoughby affably. "Dashed good to see you, Willoughby. Share a noggin with you when the ladies have retired. Speaking of which, Tom's compliments. I packed him off to bed. Looked a trifle seedy. I don't know what you're about, Liz, keeping a sick man up with aldermen's speeches and champagne. It ain't like you."

  "He brought it on himself." I suppressed a grin. Clearly, Clanross had already given Bevis an account of his strategy. Poor Willoughby. I hoped he appreciated how thoroughly and deliberately he had been outmaneuvered.

  Chapter 11

  Willoughby did realise his defeat, though nothing would have compelled him to admit it to me. All the way to Aunt Whitby's next day and all the way back he sparkled with epigrams, and I must say he diverted me. Whether Cecilia was amused I can't say. She remained largely mute.

  Toward the end of the drive Willoughby's cleverness wore thin. Or perhaps I was just weary of it.

  "Very good." I applauded his last shaft. "But you know, Willoughby, all this is wasted on your sister and me. You should be taking on Clanross directly."

  "You're all about in your head, my dear. He holds the purse strings."

  Oddly enough I had forgot that. Perhaps I do have a soul above money. "Are you under the hatches?"

  "Until quarter day. It's the devil to be poor."

  I laughed. "It must be, but neither you nor I have the least cause to know. Between the tidy income from your estate and the allowance Clanross makes you, I daresay you're in no danger of starving to death. What was it this time--faro, vingt-un, or the horses?" I broke off, assailed with discomfortable reflections.

  The hairline of ill-temper engraved Willoughby's mouth. "I see I have landed myself in quite a nest of Methodists."

  I winced but said nothing. No wonder Clanross regarded Willoughby with total want of sympathy. If my father, in the approving spirit with which he assisted Willoughby's revels, had made half Willoughby's allowance to Thomas Conway, my father's heir could have sought out the best surgeons directly he returned to England. After he succeeded to my father's lands and wealth, he must have sought the opinions of the London doctors and--I thought of his visit to my sister Kitty--of those Edinburgh savants Charles praised. Only to hear from them all, "too late."