“I don’t know how much you know about agriculture, Joshua, but I was deplorably ignorant about the subject when I inherited this estate.” Mr Coke took a sip from the glass in his right hand, and then continued.
“When one of my tenants told me he couldn’t make his farm pay, I decided, with the optimism of youth, to take over the management for myself. In so doing, I sought advice from knowledgeable people in the district, and anyone in the country who was willing to share their expertise. Every year since, we have held gatherings at Holkham at the time of the sheep-shearing. It is only by the exchange of ideas that agriculture improves, so you have come at the right time. The next meeting in July is probably our twenty-fifth, and nowadays we have visitors coming from all over the world.”
That explained Mr Blakeney’s reference to the Holkham sheep-shearings. It meant a quarter of a century of sharing knowledge on agriculture. No wonder Mr Coke was an acknowledged expert.
Afterwards, Mr Coke took the students on a tour of the house. The magnificent marble staircase, alabaster pillars and the splendidly ornate roof of the entrance hall evoked memories for Joshua of similar examples in Rome.
The statues in the long gallery reminded him of the time he watched Greek artisans making similar casts for English travellers to bring home.
He stopped short on seeing the name Batoni adorning the portrait of a tall, handsome young man in masquerade costume. Yes, the goddess was there in the background, as Lady Kenchester said was the artist’s practice.
Mr Coke noticed his hesitation. “Do you know the artist?”
“Yes, sir, I heard his name mentioned when I was in Italy.”
“Your father told me that you spent some time there, but you went further afield, I think.”
“Yes, sir, to Greece and Macedonia.” Joshua’s nose wrinkled as he recalled the time he spent in the mountain village.
“I think you travelled with… a cousin, wasn’t it?”
He nodded, not knowing what else to do.
“That is obviously the young man who has joined the army; which was why your father said you needed occupation, and why you are here.”
Joshua nodded again. How strange that other people knew more about Charlie’s whereabouts than he did.
CHAPTER 29
Two months after Joshua left Linmore, his father received an urgent message from his sister, which demanded an immediate response.
On arrival at her Cavendish Square home in London, Tom was ushered into her private sitting room, and saw Winifred prostrated on a chaise longue, her vinaigrette in one hand. It was unprecedented for her to show emotion, but his formidable sister, who could face down an ogre and walk away unscathed, was close to tears. Not since she was a girl had he seen her so upset.
“Thank God, you have come, Tom,” she said. “I am at my wits’ end, trying to decide what to do about Jane’s wretched niece. I cannot take her anywhere without her ogling men. I never know what she will do next.”
It was amazing how quickly Winifred disowned Sophie when she caused trouble. “Come, Winifred,” he said, in a brisk tone. “It can’t be that bad.”
“You are wrong, Tom. It is worse. Sophie opposes me in everything,” she said, twisting the fringe on the Norwich silk shawl draped around her shoulders. “I told her a girl of her age should have a care for her reputation, and yet when we drive in the park, she encourages every rake, reprobate and rattle in uniform to stop by our carriage. She even waved to that dreadful courtesan, Harriet Wilson, and had the temerity to laugh when I reproved her. I thanked God there were so few people in town to see it.”
Rather than interrupt, Tom let Winifred ramble on, releasing her thoughts.
“One must be thankful we are not in the season. It would be impossible to acquire vouchers for Almack’s,” she said, warming to her theme. “I dare not think of taking her to Brighton for the summer, for fear she attracts the attention of one of Farmer George’s sons. They would be bound to notice her, which would be ruinous.”
He too was aware of the consequences of that connection.
“Mistake me not, Tom. She has the soul of a courtesan. Our only hope is to get her married, very soon; otherwise, she will join the demi-monde. She will disgrace herself, and bring us down with her – and that, I will not allow.”
“What about Charlie? Does he know of this?”
“I doubt he would believe it of her, Tom,” she said, her expression softening. “He is a delightful boy. I only wish that my sons were so charming, but have to live with the fact that they are not,” she ended on a sour note.
“Has he settled into his regiment?” he said, wanting to change the subject.
“Yes.” She sounded comfortable imparting the news. “He often visits his sister, and tells us that he is enjoying his officer training. I try to see that he receives invitations to informal gatherings, outside the family, and have good reports from friends of his reception. I wish I could do more, but he is very protective of Sophie, and I am sure he thinks we are punishing her.”
“That makes the situation more difficult, Winifred. How can we find a husband for Sophie, one who will be acceptable to her brother? Particularly as most people have left the capital for the summer.”
Winifred veered off the subject.
“It would be so much easier if Augustus was married,” she said. “I could have handed the wretched girl to his wife to add a touch of respectability – show her how to behave. It was a pity about Lady Rosemary. I always thought she would have had a stabilizing effect on him.”
“Lady Rosemary?” he said, grappling with her change of direction.
“Surely you remember? She’s Lord Kenchester’s eldest daughter – a delightful girl, if a trifle eccentric. She spends most of her time with the Dowager Countess, her grandmother. Apparently, they returned from a trip to India a few months ago, and promptly went off to stay with a cousin who breeds horses in Ireland, to recover from the ordeal. The last I heard, they were still there.”
Tom nodded agreement, but his mind was on other things.
“Where would you suggest we look to find Sophie a husband?”
Winifred had obviously given the matter considerable thought.
“We have to be realistic in our expectations. It is no good thinking Sophie will attract a man of breeding, in need of a wife. She has no background, apart from Linmore, and her recent behaviour has tarnished her reputation. The best we can hope for is to find someone in trade. No, Tom,” she said, when he would have demurred. “Don’t discount the option too quickly. There are some quite respectable people nowadays, who are remarkably well heeled.”
Accepting the fact, he said, “Do you have anyone suitable in mind?”
“It is hard to judge a person’s suitability when you meet them socially. Pontesbury’s banker is a widower, who is looking to remarry. His only son and heir died at about the same time as Matthew. He lives in London, but has a small country estate a few miles from Linmore.”
“What age is he?”
“He’s probably no more than five years older than you, and is an extremely wealthy man.”
That made him just over fifty. Tom was hoping for someone younger.
“Money is not the only consideration, Winifred.”
“No, but if what you told me about the situation with Joshua was true, and I have no doubt it was, then this man is our only option. His age is not ideal, but with the present crisis…”
“Are you sure this is the best we can do?”
“In the available time, yes, and time is something we do not have. If Sophie were like her brother, we would have no problems.”
“That is my concern, Winifred. We must be very careful in how we proceed with this. Despite his love of Linmore, Charlie forced himself to leave, because he could not believe ill of Sophie. He considers it his duty to care for her, and if she marries an older man, he will blame me.”
Tom knew he could not avoid making a decision; and irrespective of what Ch
arlie thought, he would have to live with the outcome.
“Very well, I’ll leave it to you,” he said. “Obviously, I would like to meet the man, and I’d better see Sophie as well.”
“I need a few days to make arrangements, but if I invite a few friends and some of Pontesbury’s associates to dinner, let us say Wednesday or Thursday of next week, and include Edward Teale in the numbers. You can meet him socially and decide whether you think him a suitable candidate. If so, we will proceed from there. Charlie must come as well, for I think he will accept it better if he meets the man at the same time as does Sophie.”
Now she was calm, Winifred was back in control.
“It appears you have thought of everything, but then you always were good at organising things, Winifred.”
“It’s not settled yet, Tom,” she said in her blunt way, “but she’d be a fool to refuse him. He is older than I would wish for a girl of her age, but she will not do any better. With his financial situation, she will be extremely well looked after, and he won’t expect a dowry, which is a consideration, because I expect she has nothing.”
Tom shook his head, feeling weary. “There was nothing left when her father died. Apparently, he left considerable debts, which his brother cleared, using his own money. By all accounts, Fergus never did understand finance, and he went to pieces when Charlotte died.”
All they needed was to gain Sophie’s cooperation.
Tom was dreading the meeting with Sophie, but could not avoid it. The Cavendish Square library was an ideal situation. It was quiet, and today felt unusually warm, but he put the latter down to his anxiety. A lot hinged on how he handled a delicate matter, and with Sophie, there was no telling.
She was already late, no doubt, because Winifred planned for her to be here by two o’clock. It was now twenty past the hour. He would give her ten more minutes. If she failed to come, he would go to his club. In the meantime, he stared at the bookshelves. Row upon row of leather-bound books, most of which had never been opened. Winifred’s family were not a studious lot.
He turned as the door opened behind him and Sophie entered the room.
“Aunt Winifred said you wanted to speak to me, Uncle Tom,” she said in a sulky voice. “I expect you will scold me, just as she does.”
“No,” he said. “I’m not going to scold. I simply wondered what we were going to do with you, for I’m dashed if I know.”
She stood before him with the same pugnacious expression as when he first saw her. Wooden… wary… and waiting…
“I told Aunt Winifred that I wanted to follow the drum with Charlie,” she said.
So this was what the battle was all about. Tom guessed that his sister’s outraged response was the cause of Sophie’s determination to force the issue. He waved her towards a leather armchair, but she doggedly remained standing, leaving him no choice but to do likewise. As he waited for her to speak, a gamut of emotions flitted across her face, highlighting her uncertainty.
“What do you think I should do, Uncle Tom?” she said in a quiet voice.
“I can’t answer that, Sophie,” he said. “When I met you and Charlie in Blackrock, I judged your uncle harshly for failing you. Now, I am standing in similar shoes, waiting for Charlie to judge me accordingly.”
At his words, all signs of defiance crumbled.
“No, it’s not true,” she said, shaking her head. “I would never let him criticise you, Uncle Tom.”
He held out a conciliatory hand and waited for her response, but Sophie stared unseeingly at the floor, her lips tightly compressed. When she finally spoke her voice was strangely gruff. “How… is Ed Salter?”
Tom looked at her, surprised, wondering why she had chosen this moment to ask. “He’s recovering,” he said, noting relief in her expression, “but he’ll be scarred for life.”
“I’m sorry about that,” she said. “He’s a good man.”
Tom thought that was the moment when Sophie realised that she had gone her length and there was nowhere else to go. Her next words confirmed it.
“I won’t plague Aunt Winifred any more,” she said. “Not if it reflects on you.”
He felt touched by her response. It was the nearest thing to an apology he would receive, but he was content knowing that she wouldn’t deliberately step outside the accepted standard of behaviour and cause him embarrassment. For the moment, it was the best he could expect.
“Thank you,” he said. He would have loved to ask why she tormented Joshua, but their truce was too fragile to spoil. He hoped that, one day, she would tell him the truth, but would not hold his breath.
By the time the banker dined in Cavendish Square, a week later, Tom found Sophie’s demeanour had undergone a remarkable change. All trace of the hoyden had disappeared, and the appearance of civility existed between her and Mrs Pontesbury. She was even amenable to his sister’s suggestions on the latest fashions.
He was glad that with Sophie’s commanding height and dark colouring, his sister had the sense not to dress her in pastel shades or frills and furbelows. Wearing a gown of dusky rose, she looked older than her seventeen years, and more assured than Winifred’s daughter of a similar age, brought in to balance the numbers. If only they had presented the two girls at Court in the spring season, Sophie might have received an offer of marriage, and avoided this trouble.
When Tom met Edward Teale, he realised this was the man who purchased, Ravensbury Manor, a run-down property situated a few miles from Hillend village, and about which he had heard good reports of the changes made.
During the evening, he noticed Charlie with the younger members of the Pontesbury family, and thought he saw a touch of sadness – almost as if he was looking for someone with whom to share his thoughts. Knowing the camaraderie with Joshua would be hard to replace, he questioned his decision to keep them apart. At the time, with Charlie’s avowed antipathy, it seemed the only option. Now, he was not sure. Maybe, they should have had the chance to make peace.
A few days after the dinner in Cavendish Square, Tom met the banker in his office to discuss a number of financial investments; and a week later, Mr Teale hosted a dinner party in his townhouse, with a select guest list that included Tom, his sister and brother-in-law, together with Sophie and Charlie.
Arriving at the house, Tom met Mr Teale’s cousin, a mature woman of middle years, who acted as hostess at the dinner, and who, he learned, managed the household. The knowledge reassured him, for Sophie would need support. He only hoped she would accept it. He need not have worried for the evening passed without event.
In her elegant attire, Sophie’s behaviour was so good he could almost suppose that another person stood in her shoes. Then he realised for the first time the benefits of her Bredenbridge education and wished that Jane was here to see her. No, some of it must come from staying with people with money.
“I was almost proud of Sophie last night,” said Winifred, when they took breakfast the following morning.
“Indeed,” said Tom, “her appearance said much for your excellent taste.”
Winifred acknowledged the compliment with a smile, and then asked, “What did you say to Sophie to effect such a change in her behaviour? One cannot credit that she is the same girl. Even Pontesbury noticed the difference, and as you know he normally only sees the food on his plate.”
“Sophie asked me about the injured groom who had been her friend,” he said, ignoring the rest. “I told her that Salter would recover, but be permanently scarred, and she was sorry.”
“Did she give any explanation?”
“No,” he said, “but she was greatly moved, so I didn’t press the matter.”
“Nor do I relish another confrontation. Did she tell you that she wanted to follow the drum with Charlie? It’s an absolutely ridiculous idea.”
“Is it?” he said, a smile teasing his lips. “I can just see her on the march, impressing the generals with her riding prowess. She’s better in the saddle than Charlie, you know.”
“How can you be so nonsensical? Of course it is impossible.”
“She probably told you that to provoke you, in the hope that you would be glad to see the back of her.”
“No, she meant it, because Charlie was aware of it. When I told him it was not at all the thing, he accepted my word but she did not. Of course the foolish girl cannot do that. A wife might go with her husband or a daughter as part of the family, but it is not appropriate for sisters to travel with their brother. What would she do if, heaven forbid, Charlie were killed?”
“I don’t think we need to stretch our imaginations to find an answer for that, Winifred. Sophie would find a protector.”
“As she will here, without any trouble, but she needs to be protected from her own folly,” Winifred shuddered at the thought and reached for her vinaigrette, which had been forgotten.
“I seem to recall another young lady who wanted to follow the drum,” he said.
“That was different,” she said. “I was older and wiser than Sophie, and it is unkind of you to remind me. However, it was probably a mistake for he got himself killed in that horrid American war, before we could be married. I’m sure that Pontesbury is a better husband, even if he is not very dashing.”
“Less than half-a-year in age, if I recall,” he said with ruthless accuracy.
“Oh, you are provoking, Tom. Was I really so young and light-hearted? One forgets as time goes by…” Winifred sighed at the recollection.
“Very dashing you were,” he said.
“Yes, I was, everyone said so, but that is nothing to the point, Tom,” his sister said. “Sophie would be absolutely ruined if she did that, and you would be blamed for she is your niece, or at least, her mother was Jane’s cousin…”
“I’m sure that Sophie realises it for she was impeccably behaved.”
“Did you see how she deferred to Edward Teale’s judgement? I think she must have done that when she was staying in Bredenbridge. From what she said, her friend’s father was greatly impressed with her common sense.”
Brothers at Arms Page 33
