by Jane Rubino
The subject kindled Reginald’s curiosity and he began to ask many questions about the age of the portrait and who had been the artist, and determining how far the dust and dampness of an attic might have injured the canvas. “The portrait of a former master must have its place,” he declared. “That likeness of Lady Vernon and Miss Vernon is very pleasing, but you cannot have any particular attachment to it, Charles. May I not carry it to town and leave it with Lady Vernon’s housekeeper at Portland Place, and then you may hang Sir Frederick’s portrait here in the dining room if there is no place for it in the gallery? You would not object to that, Catherine?”
Mrs. Vernon was not at all unhappy to get rid of any likeness of Lady Vernon and declared that she could make no objection, and as Vernon’s dumbfounded silence was taken for consent, the matter was considered settled.
When the ladies removed to the drawing room, the children joined them and remained until the gentlemen appeared. They insisted that they would go to the nursery with nobody but their cousin Freddie, and Miss Vernon consented to take them upstairs.
Lady Vernon took out some embroidery while Mrs. Vernon poured tea and coffee and then sat down to look at the pages of a book. Sir James took a chair beside his cousin, and under the pretext of examining her handiwork, he said in a low voice, “Vernon does not appear to be very comfortable in his new situation.”
“He does not want you here.”
“Oh, nobody wants me here,” Sir James persisted. “Except Mother, who is always glad to have me anywhere but where she is. But you are his brother’s widow and entitled to a greater respect. To banish Frederick’s portrait shows a wanton indifference to his brother’s memory and to what is due to you and to Churchill.”
Lady Vernon kept her eyes on her work. “James, I beg you to remember that we are both guests in my brother’s house, and that Frederica and I are dependent upon his goodwill. We were not left so rich that we can take offense from those who take us in.”
“If he does not wish you to take offense, he should not give it.”
“Hush, James, they will hear you.”
Sir James moderated his tone. “They would not be so likely to hear our conversation if they had any of their own. See how young deCourcy looks in our direction. He believes that I plead with you for Freddie’s hand. Let us have some fun with him, shall we?” he asked, and began to entertain his cousin with the latest London gossip in which “settlement” and “engagement” and “nuptials” were audible above their murmurs.
chapter forty
Sir James Martin’s nature, which he had taken some pains to conceal beneath a guise of frivolity, was one of keen perception and kindness of heart. When he was provoked, however, a propensity for mischief asserted itself. Though there was not a hint of malice in his nature, he was often as likely to do more damage from an act of caprice than another might do from outright cruelty, and this was never more evident than in the havoc wrought from his conduct on the following morning.
He rose with the memory of his cousins’ reserve, Vernon’s agitation, and Reginald’s resentment fresh in his mind, and he had an overwhelming desire to tease them all. Taking a sheet of paper, he began to write a brief note, his penmanship a creditable imitation of Frederica’s straightforward and elegant hand.
Dear Sir,
I hope you will excuse this liberty, but I am forced upon it by great distress, or I should be ashamed to trouble you. I am forbidden from ever speaking to my uncle or aunt on the subject. In applying to you, I do perhaps attend only to the letter and not the spirit of Mama’s commands, but if you do not take my part, I know of no other way in the world of helping myself.
I am very miserable about Sir James Martin. I have always disliked him and thought him to be silly, impertinent, and disagreeable, and now that I know how earnestly our marriage is contemplated, I cannot bear him. I would rather work for my bread than marry him. If you will have the unspeakable great kindness of taking my part with Mama, and prevailing upon her to give Sir James an absolute refusal, I shall be more than obliged to you.
I do not know how to apologize enough for this letter, and I am aware how dreadfully angry it will make everybody at Churchill, but I must run the risk.
I am, sir, your most humble servant,
Frederica Susannah Vernon
He had read enough novels to think that he had written it in a very high style and one that would do credit to any lovelorn young lady. He folded the note over and wrote “Mr. Reginald deCourcy” upon it, and slipped it under the door of the young man’s chamber and went down to the breakfast parlor. The family would not be down for another half hour, which gave Sir James both the opportunity to eat his breakfast in peace and occasion to feel something like remorse.
As he could not recover the note, he decided that the best thing would be for him to take himself out of everybody’s way, and sending to the stables for his horse, he set off for Billingshurst.
Billingshurst had lately been taken by a family named Parker; the elder branch of the family had made enough by way of trade to allow the next two or three generations to forget it (provided the sons were not too numerous and the daughters were pretty enough to find husbands). They were the sort of people whose fortune attracted a great many friends and whose amiability kept nearly all of them. They would have dearly loved to add the Vernons to their acquaintance, but their recent arrival in the neighborhood, and a sense of their humble origins, caused them to believe it was the Vernons’ place to make the overture. The manner in which Mr. Vernon had behaved when he left Miss Manwaring at Billingshurst gave them little hope, however—he had declined to come in and kept Lady Vernon’s daughter sitting in the carriage.
In the village of Churchill, Sir James encountered a carriage bearing a familiar crest and was hailed by Mr. Lewis deCourcy, who had been invited to pass a few days at Billingshurst. DeCourcy was very surprised to hear that Sir James had come from Churchill Manor and persuaded him to turn over his horse to the groom and take a seat in the carriage.
“I hope,” began Mr. deCourcy when they had set off, “that Lady Vernon’s going to Churchill Manor is some indication that the concerns that she expressed to me on her way to Langford were resolved to her satisfaction. It would have pained me to think ill of Charles, as he is married to my niece.”
Sir James did not know how to reply. If Lady Vernon had some source of distress beyond the loss of a beloved husband, she had not confided it to him. Of course, Sir James reflected ruefully, his conduct toward his cousin had not always inspired her confidence.
They were greeted at Billingshurst by Mr. and Mrs. Parker, who had bustled up from their table to meet the guests and ushered the gentlemen into the breakfast parlor without ceremony. Sir James was surprised to find Mr. and Mrs. Charles Smith among the party, as he had supposed that they would not be invited anywhere where there were deCourcys. To Lewis deCourcy’s credit, he gave a kiss to his niece and shook her husband’s hand and then took a seat beside Miss Maria Manwaring.
The breakfast table at Churchill Manor was not as amiable. The party consisted only of Mr. and Mrs. Vernon, she engaged in reading a letter from Lady deCourcy and he looking up from his newspaper whenever his lady called upon him to listen to some extract of wisdom from her mother.
As Vernon was preparing to withdraw, a note was handed down to Mrs. Vernon and she read it with an exclamation of surprise. “Sir James has gone off to Billingshurst! He writes that we must not expect him until dinnertime. That is very strange conduct, do you not agree, my love? To take himself away for an entire day when he came here on our niece’s account?”
“If he takes himself away for good, he may be as strange as he likes,” he muttered.
Mrs. Vernon went up to the children and spent a quarter of an hour teaching them something, before sending them out in the care of a nursery maid for exercise. She then sat down to write a letter to her mother.
Mrs. Vernon to Lady deCourcy
Churchill Ma
nor, Sussex
My dear Madam,
I regret that I have not been able to write to you for some days. We have an unexpected guest with us. Sir James Martin arrived yesterday and took the very great liberty of inviting himself to remain with us as long as he liked! I thought it quite impertinent of him, and I do not think that Lady Vernon was happy to see him, either, though I cannot account for that, as she clearly means to forward a match between Sir James and her daughter.
Sir James is a very handsome and genteel sort of person, but he has a liveliness that borders on impudence. His manner is certainly the opposite of Miss Vernon’s, and I confess that I see nothing in her conduct that suggests encouragement. It is all her mother’s doing. She is absolutely determined to have them married. He is very rich, and Lady Vernon will not hesitate to sacrifice the poor girl in the cause of wealth and ambition. I would be very sorry to think that in years hence I would ever make either Kitty or Regina marry anyone toward whom they were violently opposed.
As for Reginald, I believe he does not know what to make of the matter. When Sir James first came, he appeared all astonishment and perplexity; the folly of Sir James and the confusion of Frederica entirely engrossed him and he is hurt, I am sure, at Lady Vernon allowing such a man’s attentions to her daughter.
Have no fear that this turn of events will affect Reginald’s plans. He still means to leave us tomorrow for London, and from there, on to Kent. How happy I will be when he is safely back at Parklands! I pray you may keep him there.
Lady Vernon will soon leave us, and (although my generous husband, to the very last, urges her to extend her visit into the spring) not even a desire to keep her from town and Reginald could compel me to prolong her stay. Though I did not think that his attraction to her was so pronounced in this last week as it had been when she first came to us (as she could not conceal her failures as a mother once Miss Vernon arrived), she has been in such very good looks as to make any young man’s heart overrule his head.
I can only hope that the arrival of Sir James, while a very great nuisance in all other respects, has given Reginald some insight into Lady Vernon’s coldness and ambition by her desire to force her daughter into a match with her cousin, for my brother’s disposition is very warm and it has been excited by compassion for Miss Vernon. I believe that he comes to see her as something like a heroine in distress, as last night, after Sir James had retired (the ladies having gone upstairs some time before), he remarked that our niece was “a sweet girl, and she deserves a better fate than Sir James Martin.”
While Catherine continued writing sheet upon sheet (as Reginald would carry the letter, Lady deCourcy would not have to think of the post), Reginald was given a very different sort of communication when his servant handed him the note that had been found slipped under the door.
Reginald read it with surprise and dismay. The latter sensation predominated; he was distressed by the impropriety of such an address but was soon overcome by a feeling of pity for her plight and for the evident desperation that had driven her to write the letter. These feelings were augmented by something like tenderness. “I would rather work for my bread than marry him” was a particularly affecting sentiment, and one that made him smile at the thought of Miss Vernon, who could not accommodate herself to the conventions of a ladies’ academy, going out into the world.
The closing sentences struck him with their conviction of Lady Vernon’s displeasure. If the violence of Miss Vernon’s opposition to Sir James were made known to her mother, surely Lady Vernon would take her daughter’s part despite the many advantages of such a match. Miss Vernon was very wrong not to make a friend of her. Reginald, with letter in hand, went to Lady Vernon’s apartments.
Lady Vernon had risen and dressed but did not wish to go down to breakfast until she was certain that Sir James had finished, and so was sitting at her writing desk when Reginald knocked. She invited him to sit and apologized for Miss Vernon’s absence. “She and Wilson have gone to call upon Mrs. Chapman.”
Reginald concluded that Miss Vernon had left right after slipping the letter under his door, in order to avoid any meeting with Sir James.
“I am glad that Miss Vernon is not here,” he began without premise. “I wish to speak to you, Lady Vernon, on the impropriety—the unkindness—of allowing Sir James Martin to address your daughter. It is evident that Miss Vernon dislikes him. How can you, as her mother, not see how miserable she is?”
Lady Vernon did not know whether to protest or laugh at this declaration. “Can you think of no other motive for her misery, if she is indeed miserable?” she inquired. “Frederica has been deprived of her father, her home, and her fortune. Is that not sufficient to make her unhappy? And do you call it an unkindness to wish for an advantageous match for one’s daughter?”
“It is not the matter of advantage—so superior a young lady as Miss Vernon ought to marry well. It is marriage to Sir James that is offensive.”
“What, pray, compels you to speak in my daughter’s defense? Does your sister commission you to reprimand me?”
“It is not Catherine but Miss Vernon who, by her own hand, asks me to speak on her behalf,” he replied, and before she could protest, he produced the letter.
Lady Vernon took the sheet of paper and immediately recognized the counterfeit penmanship and the preposterous expressions that exposed the letter as one of her cousin’s jokes. It affected her as Sir James’s pranks so often did, leaving her with both a desire to laugh and to be angry. Only Reginald’s grave and earnest countenance kept her from any display of emotion, and with great forbearance, she addressed him. “You know that my daughter is capable of impulse, Mr. deCourcy, as she acted so in the matter of Miss Lucy Hamilton’s elopement. Her dear father was inclined to spoil her, and I must often appear severe when contrasted with his indulgence. She is very young, and although she is a good-natured girl at heart, she is at an age when there must be opposition to one’s parent in something.”
“Can your ladyship wonder that she opposes a marriage with one who is so unequal to her in temperament? She writes that she cannot bear him.”
“Please remember that you are speaking of my nearest relation,” Lady Vernon reminded the young man. “You have only just been introduced to Sir James. His boyish manners often make him appear worse than he is, and in everything except common sense he would be a most desirable match.”
“But he cannot be a desirable match for Miss Vernon if she does not love him.”
Lady Vernon began to think that she ought to be grateful for her cousin’s prank. Reginald’s defense of Miss Vernon had excited a warmth and interest that he might not have come to so quickly without such inducement.
“What an opinion you must have of me! Can you possibly suppose that I wish for anything except her happiness? Do you think that I am destitute of every natural feeling?”
“I do not think so, but your daughter is not secure on this point. In her own hand, she writes that you are so insistent upon the match that you have forbidden her even from opening her heart to my sister and Charles.”
Lady Vernon forced herself to remain calm in the face of his indignation and her own sense of the absurdity of the situation. “I admit that I did caution my daughter against troubling our relations with any of our concerns, as such complaints might be seen as a reproach for obliging us to leave Churchill Manor so soon after my husband’s death or an insinuation that we meant to plead poverty and ask for money. If I have done wrong, it is only that in my own distressed state, I have not always known what will make Frederica happy. Although a prosperous marriage for her would be of material relief to us both, I assure you that I would never consign to everlasting misery the child whose welfare it is my duty to promote and whose happiness was always the first object of one whose memory will always be sacred to me.” She was compelled to stop here and wipe away a tear. “I honor the discretion that you have shown in coming to me and I give you my word that before the day is out, I will a
ddress them both. If Sir James has any pretensions for my daughter, he must give them up.”
Reginald took great pleasure in thinking that he had such influence with Lady Vernon, and a less creditable joy in the prospect of witnessing Sir James’s disappointment. “Miss Vernon will be made happy before Sir James can be disappointed. He has gone to Billingshurst and does not plan to return until dinnertime, and perhaps later.”
Lady Vernon, though quite out of patience with her cousin, was compelled to repress a smile at the sort of repentance that had him running away to Billingshurst. “I hope, Mr. deCourcy, that your determination to leave Churchill was not brought about by this situation. My own visit has already been too long, and it will not inconvenience us to depart at once. Whether Frederica and I are in Sussex or London is of no consequence to anyone, and I cannot in any way be instrumental in separating a family that is so well attached to one another.”
Lady Vernon’s willingness to sacrifice an advantageous match for her daughter, as well as the comforts and familiarity of Churchill, left Reginald satisfied with her generosity and affection; only the disturbing allusions to their poverty distressed him, for if they had indeed been left poor, might not Miss Vernon be pressed to take another rich suitor who was equally odious?
For her own part, Lady Vernon was delighted to see how easily Reginald’s feelings were worked upon, and while his curiosity demanded an explanation in everything, very few words from her were necessary to render him tractable and satisfied. Nothing more could be wanted in a son-in-law than to be so accommodating to his wife’s mother, and when he withdrew, Lady Vernon believed that if they could be kept from the interference of their families, she would, within a very few months, have a child come into the world and another one married.
