The Toast of the Town

by Alice Chetwynd Ley

  Pamyngton had remained silent after his original involuntary protest, which had been swallowed up in the more vociferous ones of his companions. He now raised his head, hearing sounds from the hall.

  ‘I think that is Graham now,’ he remarked, looking at Georgiana.

  Her hands went involuntarily to her hair, smoothing an errant curl. Both she and Susan rose from the table just as the footman came in to announce that Dr. Graham was awaiting his patients in the morning-room.

  He saw Susan first, attended by the elderly family nurse who had principal charge of little Maria, and who was to assist Dr. Hume when the time came for the confinement. Mrs. Eversley was now in the last month of her pregnancy, and Graham had promised his uncle to call on her frequently just to be sure that all was going well.

  ‘1 need scarcely remind you, John,’ Dr. Hume had said, before leaving for Scotland, ‘that the Honourable Hugh Eversley’s wife is a most important client of mine — apart from the fact that she’s a gey sweet young woman, and for her own sake, I want nothing to go wrong. Not that I think it will, mind; but it would be just as well to keep a close eye on her while I’m away.’

  Lately, reflected Graham, he had more than fulfilled the promise. Would he have called so often at Fulmer Towers, he wondered, if the fascinating Miss Eversley had not been staying there with her brother? He shied away from the question, telling himself that Georgiana Eversley was at present his patient. All the same his hands were not quite steady as he changed the dressing on her arm. Mrs. Ledibond, the nurse, noticed this with some misgiving as she gently eased up Georgy’s sleeve to reveal the bandage. She need not have worried, however. As soon as Graham had removed the bandage, all personal feelings were forgotten as he inspected the wound with professional interest.

  ‘Capital!’ he exclaimed, in a satisfied tone. ‘You’ve a good healing skin, ma’am, for this is knitting together splendidly. You feel no pain from it now?’

  Georgiana shook her head, turning the full power of her green eyes upon him. ‘Not a bit of it! Pray, when can I dispense with this clumsy bandage?’

  He hurriedly lowered his glance to her arm again. ‘Not just yet,’ he said, a shade curtly. ‘Though a much lighter bandage will serve you now. Well see how it goes on in another few days.’

  ‘She is talking of riding today,’ put in Susan, who was sitting in the same room in a wing chair with two cushions at her back. ‘Pray tell her how foolish it is, Dr. Graham! We have all tried to dissuade her, but to no purpose.’

  ‘Of all things, I detest a fuss!’ remarked Georgy. ‘You should know that, Sue. Well, now you have heard for yourself what Dr. Graham says, perhaps you’ll allow me to go my own way.’

  ‘I said nothing about your riding a horse today, however,’ pointed out Dr. Graham, calmly, as he began to place a fresh bandage on her arm.

  He looked up in time to catch the now familiar flash in her green eyes.

  ‘Did you not?’ she asked, loftily. ‘Well, it’s no matter. You said it’s healing nicely — and, anyway, I intend to go.’

  Graham made no reply, but finished tying the bandage, then stood a little away from her while Mrs. Ledibond arranged Georgy’s sleeve over it ‘Not today, Miss Eversley,’ he said, in a pleasant though firm tone, ‘perhaps in another day or two, when we dispense altogether with a bandage.’

  She set her mouth mutinously. ‘I want to go now — today! I am sick to death of being mewed up in this house!’

  He raised dark eyebrows. ‘Surely there’s someone who might take you out for a drive? I don’t recommend a jolting carriage for Mrs. Eversley’ — he glanced at Susan — ‘but it’s quite different for you.’

  ‘But I don’t want to ride tamely abroad in a carriage!’ exclaimed Georgy, petulantly. ‘It’s not near such sport as riding on horseback!’

  ‘Doesn’t that rather depend on who’s driving, ma’am?’

  Graham’s irrepressible sense of humour brought the words to his lips before he could suppress them. He tried to soften them with one of his crooked smiles.

  ‘Oh!’ stormed Georgy, stamping her foot ‘You are — I detest you!’

  Mrs. Ledibond, who had nursed Georgy, too, as a child, clucked her tongue reprovingly. ‘Now, come, Miss Georgy!’ she expostulated, forgetting for a moment the years between; ‘That’s no way to speak to the doctor!’

  ‘On the contrary, Nurse,’ said Graham, laughing, ‘1 richly deserved it. Miss Eversley, let’s make a bargain. If I promise never again to refer to your skill as a whip, will you in your turn undertake to leave your horse riding till another day?’

  ‘I’ll promise you nothing!’ The auburn curls tossed angrily.

  ‘Ungracious,’ commented Graham, coolly. ‘Well, ma’am, I did my best to resolve our difference by fair means, now I must resort to other measures.’

  ‘What other measures?’ echoed Georgy, suspiciously. ‘Anyway, that will be more in keeping with your nature!’

  A choking sound from Susan claimed their attention. She was sitting in her chair doubled up with helpless laughter. ‘Oh — you’re so droll, you two!’ she gurgled, while tears of mirth came to her eyes. ‘You go on — as if — as if — you had known each other all your lives — instead of — of — ‘ She stopped, and let out a crowing sound — ‘Any two people less like — like doctor and patient — I never did see!’

  ‘Pray stop her, sir!’ begged nurse, running to Susan’s side. ‘Mrs. Eversley, ma’am — my pet — you mustn’t take on so — ’twill do you no good! Pray calm yourself!’

  She began to pat Susan’s hands. Graham left Georgiana abruptly, and came to Susan’s side.

  ‘She’ll take no harm,’ he said, reassuringly. ‘All the same, ma’am, it may moderate your mirth when I ask you to forbid Miss Eversley to take a horse out today.’

  He was quite right. Susan stopped laughing immediately. ‘Me?’ she gasped. ‘You can’t suppose, sir, that Georgy will heed me any more than she does you!’

  ‘Then I see I must apply to your husband,’ replied Graham, quietly. ‘Perhaps you’ll be good enough to send someone to ask if he will spare me a moment?’

  Georgiana’s face fell for a moment; but she quickly recovered, turning a hostile look on Graham.

  ‘Very well,’ she said, coldly. ‘You win — this hand. There will be others, never fear — and you may not come off so well next time.’

  He flashed a crooked smile, and gave her a curt little bow.

  ‘I fear it’s a risk I must take, ma’am.’

  Viscount Pamyngton was, as Hugh had once remarked, not the man to wear his heart on his sleeve; but he had his full share of perception and certainly had not failed to notice the tense atmosphere surrounding Dr. Graham and Georgiana at the moment when Curshawe and himself had met them in the road after Georgy’s accident. He was quite used to seeing men’s heads turned by the lovely, unpredictable Miss Eversley. He had come to accept it as a commonplace during the last few London seasons, since he had himself joined her court. Judging by what had gone before, he would not have supposed that the doctor was at all likely to fall under Georgy’s spell; but no man could be safe where a girl had so much beauty, charm and that indefinable extra something which set her apart from other females. Pamyngton saw no cause for wonder, and even less for alarm, if Graham was on the brink of falling in love with Georgy.

  What did cause him some private speculation was the element of interest which his quick senses perceived on the lady’s side. For the first time since he had known her, Georgiana Eversley seemed to be going out of her way deliberately to entrap a man; and a man, at that, with whom she was unlikely to have any thought of marriage. It was all very puzzling, and the puzzle grew during the days that followed.

  The doctor called every day; and Pamyngton noticed the care with which Georgiana dressed for these visits, and the pains she was at to prolong them beyond their strictly necessary professional duration. Moreover, whenever George suggested that his friend Jock Graham should join th
eir party for any social occasion, it was not difficult for a close observer to see how welcome the suggestion was to Georgiana. Could it be, Pamyngton asked himself doubtfully, that the Incomparable had taken a tumble herself at last? In spite of his observations, he could not believe this. There was too much evidence of calculation rather than emotion in her actions. He shrugged his shoulders, and wished he knew what her game was. Perhaps he would have done better to refuse Beau Eversley’s invitation to Fulmer Towers, after all. He had hoped that a few weeks in the comparative seclusion of the country might bring himself and Georgy closer than was possible in the constant whirl of social engagements and admirers which made up her life in Town. He had realized that he would have another of her admirers to contend with in Buckinghamshire, but the thought of Henry Cur-shawe as a rival had brought no alarm to his mind. It should be easy enough to outwit that dull dog Curshawe. In the event, it had not been so easy: He had underestimated the tenacity of purpose, the sheer nuisance value of the other man. There had been fewer opportunities at Fulmer Towers than he had hoped of a tête-à-teête with Georgy; but even those few had always been ruined by Curshawe, who persisted in shadowing his rival to a degree that was ludicrous. If the man did not stop dogging his footsteps soon, thought Pamyngton in exasperation, something would have to be done; though what he could not imagine.

  His disgust with Curshawe reached its peak on the day when Georgy wanted to go riding. She came flouncing into the parlour after her interview with Graham, and closed the door with a decided snap. Only Curshawe, Pamyngton and her two brothers remained in the room reading. They all looked up for a moment from their newspapers as she entered.

  ‘You look in a bit of a pet,’ remarked Freddy with a twinkle. ‘I collect your friend Graham didn’t support your scheme of going riding?’

  ‘He’s no friend of mine!’ snapped Georgy.

  Freddy raised his brows. ‘Pity,’ he said, significantly. ‘You’re not doing too well, are you, my dear, with not much more than a fortnight to go?’

  Everyone’s curiosity was aroused by this speech. George demanded what the devil Freddy meant, but received no answer. Georgy herself, when appealed to, answered hurriedly that it was just some of Freddy’s nonsense. This satisfied George, but not either Pamyngton or Curshawe. The former had too much sense to labour the point, but Curshawe was not so wise.

  ‘If it’s nonsense, Miss Georgiana, may we not be privileged to share the jest? Not much more than a fortnight to go — to what, I wonder?’

  He asked the question in an arch manner that set everyone’s teeth on edge. George rose, tossed his newspaper aside, and made for the door.

  ‘Whatever it is, we’re all likely to be back in Town by then,’ he said. ‘Well, if Jock’s finished his business here for today, I’ll go and have a chat with him.’

  ‘Can Frederick mean that your injury is not mending as it should?’ persisted Curshawe, with an anxious look. ‘That it will scarcely be recovered by the time you return to your own home? Dear lady, should you not perhaps take a second opinion on it? I’ve no doubt that this medico friend of your brother’s is an excellent man in his way; but, after all, he is very young, and cannot have had a great deal of experience. I am persuaded that you should get a man from London — someone older, more used to dealing with things of this nature. My mother would willingly recommend you to our own family doctor, who brought us all successfully through a number of ailments’

  ‘More’s the pity,’ murmured Freddy, in an aside, which Pamyngton just managed to catch, and which set his lips twitching.

  ‘ … and has been in practice for at least thirty years,’ went on Curshawe’s voice, inexorably. ‘Shall I find her now, and ask her to write to him on your behalf? I know she will be only too happy to serve you in this, as in any other way she can.’

  He started towards the door as he finished.

  ‘No, pray do not!’ exclaimed Georgy, sharply.

  He halted for a moment ‘I know how you dislike a fuss, ma’am, and believe me, I consider it does you great credit. But when it is a matter of one's health, you know, it is better to make a little fuss than to risk overlooking something which could be serious later on. I well remember my mother saying’

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake!’ exclaimed Freddy, throwing down his newspaper and jumping to his feet. ‘Have done, Curshawe! This is nothing to do with Georgy’s health, man, but a matter of a wager we have together! And I must say it don’t look as if she’s got an earthly hope of winning.’

  ‘A — a wager? Between Miss Georgy and yourself? But surely the fair sex do not indulge in such pastimes?’ asked Curshawe, doubtfully.

  ‘Don’t they just!’ answered Freddy, derisively. ‘I tell you what, Curshawe, you’ve led too sheltered a life by half! If you think my sister Georgy’s one of these miss-ish girls, you’re a long way out. No, the thing is, after she had that dust-up with Jock Graham — when she nearly ran him down, you know — I bet her that she couldn’t make him’

  ‘Freddy, no!’ exploded Georgy, launching herself towards him. ‘Don’t you dare!’

  He shook her off, laughing. ‘Why not? Where’s the harm? I’m sure they’ll find it as rich a joke as I do — though they must keep it to themselves. The thing is,’ he went on with his explanation, ‘to win our wager, Georgy’s got to work on Jock so that he makes her a declaration before either party leaves the district. And as there’s something less than three weeks to go, and they’re still at daggers drawn, I think I can safely count on a win. Well, what d’ye say? Ain’t it rich? Don’t know when I ever came across a couple who detest each other so thoroughly. A fine pair of lovebirds they’d make!’ He went off into a series of deep-throated chuckles.

  Curshawe eyed him severely. ‘I’m sorry to tell you, Frederick, that I find your levity misplaced,’ he said, heavily. ‘What’s more, I am quite sure that your sister could never be a party to anything so’ he paused, seeking for the right words ‘of such a nature. I’m sure that, were either of your elder brothers to learn that you had made such an improper bet’

  ‘You don’t mean that you’d actually peach on us to Hugh or George?’ asked Freddy, indignantly. ‘Well, if that don’t beat old Boney himself! I thought you were a bit of a queer fish, Curshawe, but I never -’

  During these interchanges, Pamyngton had remained silent. The story of the wager threw new light on all that had puzzled him of late in Georgiana’s behaviour. His chief emotion now was one of relief.

  ‘I don’t think you need worry,’ he said, interrupting Freddy before that young man should say something too uncivil to Curshawe. ‘Neither of us will mention this matter to anyone else — eh, Curshawe?’

  He directed a long, steady look at his rival, and then glanced at Georgy, who stood with clenched hands and flushed cheeks at her brother’s side.

  ‘Thank you, my lord, but I believe I can answer for myself,’ replied Curshawe, with dignity. ‘Naturally, I would hesitate to say anything which might embarrass Miss Georgiana in any way. And as I am certain that she can have no part in her brother’s jest — which I consider to be in doubtful taste, though I am sorry to say so — then I shall be glad to forget that I ever heard anything about such a wager.’

  Suddenly Georgy stamped her foot. ‘Oh!’ she exclaimed, fighting back the tears as she rushed from the room, ‘I detest you all — you are stupid beyond belief!’

  CHAPTER 11

  Two’s Company

  Georgiana rushed straight up to her bedchamber. Outside the door, she almost collided with Susan, who was coming away from her own room. She apologized hastily and flung open the door; but Susan had seen the expression on her face, and followed her into the room.

  ‘What’s amiss, love?’ she asked, closing the door. ‘Oh, nothing!’ Georgy flung herself down on the bed and began to pound the mattress with her fists. ‘Only that I am sick to death of the country, and of everyone in this house — or nearly everyone!’

  Susan sat down beside her. ‘Is
it Dr. Graham who’s upset you so by saying you must not ride?’

  ‘Not only that — everyone else is just as stupid and boring! I declare,’ exploded Georgy, tears giving way to anger as she turned a fierce expression towards her sister-in-law, ‘if that prosy creature Henry Curshawe treats me to any more of his moralizing, I shall do him a mischief! As for Freddy — he’s the greatest beast in nature! I shall never forgive him — it’s all his fault!’

  ‘What’s all his fault, dearest?’

  ‘Oh, never mind! Only he must go and blab things out, like the ninny hammer he is! And then that stupid little man Curshawe takes it all so seriously, while even Pam –‘

  She broke off, and ran distracted fingers through her tumbled hair.

  ‘What about Lord Pamyngton?’ prompted Susan gently.

  ‘Oh, nothing — only I thought he had a sense of humour, that’s all! I see I was wrong.’

  ‘My love, I haven’t the faintest notion what you are talking of,’ said Susan, in a bewildered tone. ‘Can’t you tell me the whole? Come, we always used to confide in each other, and it never failed to make us feel better, now, did it? Tell me everything, from the beginning — do!’

  Georgy hesitated, then shook her head. ‘This is different, Sue. For one thing, you might be shocked. For another, I can’t risk it coming to Hugh’s ears, for I know he most certainly wouldn’t approve.’

  ‘Hugh disapprove! Georgy, whatever can you have done?’

  Too late, Georgy saw that she had alarmed her sister-in-law.

  ‘Oh, it’s nothing to look like that about!’ she said hastily. ‘It’s only some stupid bet I made with Freddy, and he has no more sense than to blurt it all out in front of Pam and Mr. Curshawe.’