The House of Hardie

by Anne Melville

  ‘You can’t be sure that marriage isn’t the right thing. A loving husband, children, your own establishment – are you wise to turn your back on all this without having sampled it?’

  ‘Once I move into that world, there’s no turning back,’ Midge pointed out. ‘It’s only if I start work and find it unsatisfying that I might perhaps hope for a second chance. You’re going to explore an unknown country, Gordon, and you’re excited about it even though you have little idea what you’ll find there. You could look at it this way: that I shall be exploring too. The life of the spinster-by-choice is an uncharted one. Like you, I shall be taking a risk. But you must allow that I too can be excited.’

  Gordon hardly knew what to say. Was Midge simply making the best of a bad job? Did she realize that in her sort of exploration, as in his own, there were bound to be moments of fear and loneliness, as well as the excitement she hoped for? He found it hard to decide whether to admire or to feel sorry for her. She seemed to sense his doubts, because the carefree merriment which until recently he had always been accustomed to see in her eyes returned as she laughed.

  ‘First love is a notoriously dangerous condition, Gordon. I’ve learned from my experience, and it will save me from making the same mistake again. If I’m ever tempted in the future, I shall remember what I’ve just said – and what you said to me a year ago – and pause to consider more seriously where my affections may be leading me. I ought to be grateful to Mr Yates for taking this practical side of my education in hand.’

  ‘Mr Yates is a bounder.’ Gordon could read through his sister’s apparently careless tone of voice to guess that she had been hurt. But there seemed no pretence as she shook her head to disagree with his comment.

  ‘Mr Yates is a year younger than myself, and perhaps in some respects just as unsophisticated. You mustn’t think of him as some wicked schemer, Gordon. I’m sure that his affection for me was genuine enough. It was foolish of him to put it into words, perhaps, just as it was foolish of me to allow him to become too familiar. But –’

  ‘What do you mean by that?’

  ‘Oh heavens, Gordon, don’t jump down my throat. I mean nothing at all by it. I may have been a little humiliated, but I haven’t been disgraced. A lack of decorum, perhaps, nothing more.’

  ‘Those words of Mr Yates that you referred to –’ At the beginning of the conversation Gordon had been curious, and prepared to feel some indignation on his sister’s account. But now it was his own anger which rose to thicken his voice and rob him of appetite. ‘Did he speak of marriage? Were there other occasions, after the one I know of, when you were alone together? Did he lead you into that lack of decorum you mentioned by allowing you to think of him as a fiancé – on the basis of some understanding, perhaps, which would be confirmed when he came of age and was his own master?’

  For a second time in their conversation Midge flushed, making the answers to his questions clear enough. But then she took a grip of herself. Picking up a knife, she brandished it threateningly in his direction, while the familiar twinkle returned to her eyes.

  ‘I understood that I’d been invited for a light-hearted picnic,’ she said. ‘To mark the end of my student slavery and a return to normal social life. I’m not prepared to spoil the day by devoting any more time and attention to a young gentleman whose part in my life is over. He and I won’t meet again, and there’s no point at all in discussing the past. The only business on our agenda is that of Mrs Tavory’s closed apple tart. Can you eat half of it?’

  ‘I’ve no appetite,’ said Gordon.

  ‘Then the ducks are in luck.’ Midge began to break off small pieces of the crust and toss them into the water. A flotilla of mallards made towards them like an arrowhead from the far side of the river. ‘Mrs Tavory would never forgive us if we returned it to her unappreciated.’

  ‘Oh well,’ said Gordon. ‘I suppose I need to keep up my strength if I’m to row you back to Oxford. Yes, I could manage half.’

  Just for one moment longer Midge looked at him seriously.

  ‘If you should happen to meet Mr Yates in the course of business before you leave for China,’ she said, ‘I should take it very poorly if you were to mention my name. I accepted my congé with dignity, I hope, and for the sake of my self-respect the matter is to be regarded as closed. Agreed?’

  Gordon bit into the crumbling pastry and did not care that he was speaking with his mouth full. ‘Agreed,’ he said.

  Chapter Six

  At the moment when Gordon promised his sister not to interfere in her affairs, he had no intention of breaking his word. It was unfortunate that when he paid a visit to Castlemere only a few days after the river picnic – in order to assure himself that the stone he had chosen for the rock garden had been correctly cut and delivered – the first person he saw was Archie Yates.

  Archie was returning from his morning ride at the time of the encounter in the stable courtyard. There was a moment in which Gordon, standing on the ground, felt himself to be small and inferior in comparison with the straight-backed rider who literally looked down on him from the saddle of his horse. Angry first with himself at succumbing to such a feeling, he was quick to turn his indignation against the confident young man as he tossed the reins to one of the grooms. Archie no doubt simply took it for granted that other men would unsaddle and cover and walk and groom the steaming chestnut at the end of his gallop – just as Gordon himself took it for granted that Mrs Tavory, the Hardies’ cook, would produce food for him to eat at every meal. But Gordon, recovering his own sense of dignity, saw arrogance both in that careless gesture and in Archie’s failure to recognize him. He placed himself under the wide arch of the courtyard entrance.

  ‘Can you spare me a minute, Mr Yates?’

  Gordon was tall, but Archie was taller – and a very much more solid figure. His tight riding boots and breeches emphasized the length and muscle of his legs, so that even standing on the ground he appeared to be looking down on Gordon – puzzled at first, but then nodding with a recognition which contained elements of surprise and annoyance.

  ‘You’ll get your money,’ he said. ‘My grandfather’s in Scotland for the shooting. He’ll deal with all this sort of thing when he gets back.’

  Gordon’s lips tightened with irritation. It was, as a matter of fact, the policy of The House of Hardie not to pester undergraduates for payment. Experience showed that most bills were settled in the end, and a curious sense of honour amongst the younger members of the aristocracy persuaded them to patronize most loyally those tradesmen to whom they owed the most. But that was a minor matter compared with the annoyance of being taken to be a mere debt-collector. Gordon had a better opinion of himself than that, and Archie’s mistake stung him into intemperance.

  ‘I’m not concerned with money,’ he said. ‘Only with a different kind of obligation. To my sister.’

  ‘I trust Miss Hardie is well. And I hope in addition that she was successful in her examinations.’

  ‘If she was, it’s no thanks to you, Mr Yates. It could hardly have given her confidence to feel herself disdained.’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ said Archie. ‘I have the greatest respect for your sister.’

  ‘Then I wonder what your feelings would be towards anyone who treated your own sister in such a cavalier manner.’

  The colour rose in Archie’s cheeks, suggesting that he might feel some shame in respect of the past as well as irritation at Gordon’s attitude.

  ‘What are you trying to imply?’ he asked. ‘I’m sure such a phrase would never be used by your sister, from whom I parted on good terms – both of us acknowledging the need to concentrate on our studies.’

  ‘If she said that, it was her pride speaking.’

  ‘Then it was a proper pride,’ exclaimed Archie with some spirit. ‘And I doubt if she will thank you for suggesting that it was not the truth.’

  Uneasily, Gordon recognized that this was so; but he had gone too far to d
rop the subject and walk away. ‘It’s humiliating for a young woman to admit that she was misled, Mr Yates,’ he said stiffly. ‘By promises which you ought not to have made, knowing that they could not be kept.’

  ‘I made no promises. If she thought…’ Archie’s eyes flickered with something that looked very much like guilt, but he attempted to defuse the situation by smiling. ‘Until I made your sister’s acquaintance, I’d never met a young woman student. Her way of life and her ambitions are very different from those of, say, my sister and her friends. I may not always have interpreted her behaviour correctly. But as I saw it, for a little while we were both interested to develop a relationship which was a novel one to each of us. And, equally, we both recognized the moment when such an exploration came to a natural halt.’

  ‘It may suit you to say so.’ Gordon did not attempt to hide his disbelief. ‘It seems to me that you took advantage of an unsophisticated young woman and encouraged her affection for you in an inexcusable manner. If the expression of your own feelings was not genuine, then your behaviour has not been that of a gentleman. If at the time you were sincere, then some explanation is required for your change of heart.’

  Even as he spoke, he knew that he was behaving like a fool. He had broken his promise to Midge in a way which could do her no good. If she ever discovered his meddling, she would be justified in quarrelling with him. And what, after all, had Archie done? Kissed her once or twice, perhaps. Midge had spoken only of a lack of decorum, so it was unthinkable that they should have gone further than that. A frank admission and apology would suffice to close the matter.

  But Gordon himself had gone too far. The grandson of the Marquess of Ross could hardly be expected to take lightly the suggestion that he was not a gentleman. As Archie drew himself up in indignation there was a curious moment in which Gordon was able to understand why his clever, petite, dark-haired sister might feel attracted to a man who was in every way her opposite. There was no doubt that Archie Yates was a good-looking young man – and even now, when he was angry, there was a kind of healthy youthfulness about him which any woman might well find appealing. But Gordon was not allowed long to consider this.

  ‘I owe you no kind of explanation,’ Archie said, ‘and I am not prepared to discuss my personal affairs with the son of my wine merchant. Kindly stand aside.’

  Gordon stood his ground, blocking the way through the arch, although common sense told him that there was nothing to be gained by prolonging a confrontation which he had been unwise to begin. It was perhaps because he was looking into Archie’s eyes that he failed to notice in time the fist which swung up to hit him under the chin. The force of the blow lifted him into the air before leaving him sprawling on the ground. A well-polished riding boot set itself firmly down a few inches from his face, and for a moment Gordon thought that he was about to be kicked. But, instead, Archie’s toe scuffed into the dirt and tossed a scattering of dust over Gordon’s hair. Then he was gone.

  Gordon pulled himself up into a sitting position and touched his chin cautiously, deciding that his jaw was not – as at first he had thought – broken. Pain and fury struggled for dominance. It was fury which won – but it must already be too late for him to catch up with Archie and wrestle him to the ground. He stood up, staggering slightly, and was forced to lean against the courtyard wall for a moment. Only when his head ceased to swim and his eyes began to focus again did he become aware that he was not alone.

  ‘Mr Hardie, are you hurt? Did you fall?’ Lucy Yates spoke breathlessly, as though she had been running. Her blue eyes were anxious, and the hand she held out towards him trembled slightly, as though she would have liked to touch and help him rather than merely express a greeting. ‘The servants told me you were here. I wanted to discuss the placing of the rocks with you, to be sure that we should agree. But first you must come to the house and let me bathe your hand.’

  Gordon glanced down. He must have cut himself when he fell, but the wound, although bleeding, was not deep. Nothing would induce him to enter Castlemere now. He touched her fingers and bowed over them. Then he used his undamaged hand to brush the dirt from his clothes, rejecting her invitation with a shake of the head.

  ‘I’ll wash it in the stream as we pass,’ he said. ‘By all means let us talk of the rock garden together.’ He tried to smile as he spoke, but was unable to force the muscles of his mouth into any pretence of cheerfulness, because the whole of his body was still seething with fury. Even as he followed Lucy through the grounds, there was a tightness in his mood which he could not control. He had inadvertently humiliated Midge in her absence, and at the same time had allowed Archie to humiliate him. If only there were some way in which he could get even.

  Within a matter of moments that way presented itself. Gordon stooped to dip his hand into the narrow stream which lower in its course would provide the projected rock garden with its waterfalls and miniature river. But Lucy, stepping across the water, went down on her knees and pulled him down to the same level so that she could hold the cut under water. She pressed it open with her fingers to wash away the grains of dirt.

  ‘And now it should be disinfected,’ she told him, still holding his hand so that she might study it. As he shrugged the necessity away, she looked at him, her bright blue eyes at first troubled by his lack of care, and then sparkling with a teasing merriment. ‘How can you be trusted to venture on dangerous journeys, Mr Hardie, if you are not prepared to take proper precautions in small matters?’

  ‘I see that I need to be looked after.’ Was he joking? Gordon himself did not know. Even while he at last forced himself to smile, he felt his hand trembling in her grip.

  ‘It would certainly be wise of you to take a companion. And no one you invited would be likely to refuse you.’

  The whole world around Gordon became silent and still. Even the stream, it seemed, was arrested in its course – or else it was time itself which was standing still. Gordon stared into Lucy’s eyes. How young she was – and how brave, to expose herself in such a way to a rebuff.

  But why should she be rebuffed? What an exquisite revenge it would be if Archie Yates should be forced to endure the thought of his sister marrying into the family which had not been good enough for himself. There would be no reason for Gordon to feel guilt about such an outcome. He had not led Lucy on – the wishes she was revealing to him were her own. Nor would he be acting against his own inclinations, for he had recognized very early in their acquaintance how easy it would be to fall in love with this beautiful young woman. It would require only the very slightest relaxation of his self-control.

  He did not relax it now. Although there was a smile on his face, it was his anger, not his love, which spoke.

  ‘Will you marry me?’ he asked.

  Chapter Seven

  Had Lucy Yates been the heroine of one of the novels which she was so fond of reading, she would have swooned with delight at the sound of the words she had longed to hear. But she was a healthy and practical girl, and to faint now would put her in danger of falling into the stream. Instead, she rose to her feet so that Gordon could kiss her if he wished. He would do so, she was sure, as soon as he heard her answer. A more sophisticated girl might have pretended to be surprised, or even hesitant; but Lucy allowed her happiness to reveal itself in honesty.

  ‘Indeed I will marry you, Mr Hardie – as long as I may be the companion of whom I spoke. I can face any hardship except that of being a deserted bride. Will you promise that I may come with you to China?’

  Gordon too stood up, staring at her with serious eyes. ‘The hardships would be greater than you imagine,’ he said. ‘The climate near the Tibetan frontier is very harsh, and for weeks at a time a tent will provide the only shelter. Mountain tracks will be rough, and dangerous rivers must be crossed. Nor are the people in the remoter villages always friendly. I’ve read the experiences of other travellers in the region.’

  Lucy met his gaze with her head held high. In pointing out the dang
ers, Gordon was behaving as honourably as she would have expected, but she was not to be daunted.

  ‘I may appear to you to be pampered, and able to live only in the luxury of a house like Castlemere,’ she said. ‘But I can spend all day in the saddle, and I will outrun you over rough ground if you care to put me to the test. You will take suitable clothes to protect you from the weather, I imagine, and I could do the same. I even have some skills to offer. You will have to collect your plants while they are dormant – but I could paint them while they are still in flower, so that their new owners can see how they will appear.’

  ‘Capital!’ exclaimed Gordon. ‘Then I hereby appoint you the official artist to the expedition.’

  Lucy clapped with pleasure, and then held out her hands to be helped across the stream. Now, surely, he would kiss her, for they were engaged to be married. She stepped forward into his arms; but instead of embracing her, he held her at a distance and his expression clouded. Only a moment earlier he had seemed to share her delight and excitement. What could have caused this change of mood?

  ‘Your family will not consent,’ Gordon said. ‘And without their permission you won’t be able to marry until you’re twenty-one. We mustn’t behave … I ought not … I should have approached your grandfather before speaking to you. It would be better, perhaps, if you were to forget…’