by Carola Dunn
Constantia hoped Fanny would find a way to tactfully dissuade her brother should he show signs of attempting to fix his interest--unless Miriam came up with a remedy for the scar.
She was not destined to write to either Miriam or her mother that morning. As she and Fanny and Anita reached the gallery above the hall, a brisk rat-tat on the front door brought Thomas at a run. He opened the door. A tall, lean, elderly lady in a huge puce bonnet surmounted by black plumes marched in as if she owned the house.
“I am Lady Elvira Kerridge,” she snapped. “Where is my brother, my good man?”
Thomas at once put on the impassive face of the well-trained footman, abandoned since leaving Westwood. “I believe his grace is above stairs, my lady, and not wishful to be disturbed. I shall inform the master of your ladyship’s arrival.”
“Master? Master? I suppose the Duke of Oxshott is master in his own house.”
“I don’t see why he should be,” drawled a sneering male voice, “since he ain’t master at home. At any rate, not now you are here, Aunt.”
An elegant gentleman in immaculate morning dress had entered behind Lady Elvira, forestalling Thomas’s effort to close the door. On his arm leant a plump lady in black with a veil hiding her face.
“Godfrey, my poor head,” she moaned in a failing voice. “I shall have a Spasm.”
“You shall lie down at once, Mama, with a tisane.”
“Hypochondriac!” snorted Lady Elvira.
After a moment of frozen dismay, Fanny had started down the stairs, leaving Constantia to follow, if she so chose, with Anita. She crossed the hall to the group by the door.
“I am Fanny Ingram,” she said brightly, “and you, I believe, must be my aunts and my cousin?”
Godfrey--the Honourable Godfrey Yates, Constantia remembered --performed an elaborate bow that was somehow a masterpiece of mockery. Lady Elvira produced a lorgnette and eyed Fanny from head to toe, and back again. Lady Yates moaned.
“And I’m your uncle Vincent, missy,” said a hearty gentleman with a brick-red face. Thrusting himself between the ladies, he enveloped Fanny in an embrace that made her squeak and surreptitiously rub her rear end. Then he turned and shouted, “Alicia, come and meet m’new niece!”
A small, meagre, fluttery lady in grey trotted after him, babbling. “Vincent, pray do not...My dear Miss Ingram...Too kind...So sorry...”
Constantia hesitated on the stairs. She ought to go down and help Fanny deal with the influx, but Anita’s presence could only complicate matters. The child was peering through the bannisters, fascinated by the newcomers.
And yet another newcomer appeared in the doorway, a smart young matron in an olive green carriage dress with epaulets and military frogging. She stood there regarding the scene with a sardonic expression. “La, all my charming relations,” she drawled. “My apologies for adding to their number, Miss Ingram, but when Father summoned me I was overcome by curiosity.”
Joan came hurrying along the gallery towards Constantia. “Thomas said the captain’s guests is come, my lady. Shall I take Miss Anita? You’ll be wanting to go down.”
“Yes, please, Joan. I am needed.”
Thomas must have made his escape to warn the household as soon as Fanny reached the hall, for Frank, Felix, Mrs Tanner, and Hoskins all came in as Constantia descended the stairs. Hoskins went out to deal with the visiting servants. Once introductions had been performed, Frank and Felix took Lord Vincent off for a glass of madeira before luncheon. Mr Yates, his contemptuous air slightly modified by Felix’s presence, said he’d join them as soon as he had assisted his mama to her chamber. Accompanying Lady Yates, Fanny invited Lady Elvira to go with her and confided Lady Vincent to Mrs Tanner’s care. Constantia was left with the remaining guest, Lydia, Lady Warrington, Lord Mentham’s sister.
“I daresay poor Dolph is here already?” she enquired in her fashionably languid drawl as they started up the stairs. “He left the moment Father’s letter arrived.”
“Lord Mentham arrived yesterday. He was staying with you?”
“Lord, no. We are all of us come straight from Telver Park, country seat of the Dukes of Oxshott since sixteen something or other. The rest all live there, leeching on Father. I’m staying because Warrington had to go to Paris on government business.”
“You were not able to go with your husband?”
“No, you see I’m...Wait just a moment and let me catch my breath,” she said as they reached the top of the flight. “You see, I’m in the family way.”
“Oh!” Constantia blushed. “I beg your pardon, we did not know. Ought you to climb the stairs?”
“Lord, yes, I’ll just take my time about it. You say ‘we.’ You know my cousins well?”
“I have not known them long but I have seen a good deal of them since first we met.”
“Father was mad as fire, I vow, when his lawyer announced he had found two nobodies who claimed to be heirs. I must say it’s a surprise to find they have acquaintance among the Ton. Tell me about them. I suppose you like them or you would not be here.”
“Fanny is betrothed to my brother,” Constantia explained. She was about to launch into a paean of praise of her future sister-in-law when a squawk of outrage rose from the group stopped at a door just ahead of them.
“Share?” Lady Elvira sounded exactly like her brother the duke, only an octave higher. “Share my chamber? With Millicent, and her pills and potions?”
“Perhaps you had rather share with Uncle Vincent,” suggested Godfrey Yates mockingly.
“Godfrey, my head!” gasped Lady Yates, drooping. “If I am forced to share a chamber I shall not sleep a wink, and you know how shockingly ill that makes me.”
“I’m sorry,” said Fanny resolutely, “but this house is no mansion. Every bedchamber will be occupied.”
“My dear aunts,” said Lady Warrington, “pray recall that Cousin Fanny did not invite us! But perhaps one of you would prefer to share with me? I suffer horridly from morning sickness, alas.”
Lady Elvira gave her a venomous glance and stalked into the room. Lady Yates, transferring her clutch from her son’s arm to Fanny’s, pressed the other delicate hand to her heart and stumbled after her sister. As Fanny followed perforce, she turned her head and rolled her eyes at Constantia.
“We thought it best to put them together,” Constantia said anxiously to Lady Warrington as they continued along the passage. “They are sisters, after all.”
“And have been at daggers drawn since before I entered this world. Am I to share with you, or with Cousin Fanny?”
“No, you and I each have a very small chamber to ourselves, much too small to share, and Fanny has Anita with her.” She explained Anita’s presence in the household.
“La, what a shame I did not bring my son with me. David is just three and would be aux anges to have a playmate. Still, I imagine you might have found it difficult to accommodate him and his nurse. Tell me, Lady Constantia, is Dolph in a room with Cousin Godfrey?”
“Yes, none of us quite liked to ask your father...”
“Say no more! Poor Dolph. And my uncle and aunt Vincent?”
“They are man and wife!” As long as she could remember, Lord and Lady Westwood had had separate rooms, but Fanny had assumed Lord and Lady Vincent would wish to be together, even if there had been a choice.
“They have not shared a room in a decade or more.” Lady Warrington laughed. “This will spike his guns. Your housemaids should be grateful. Not that I imagine Uncle Vincent ever gets much beyond pinching the occasional bottom.”
Blushing again, Constantia was glad to reach the door of Lady Warrington’s chamber. Showing her in, she said, “We have a cold collation for luncheon at about one o’clock. Shall you come down or would you like a tray up here?”
Lady Warrington glanced around the tiny, shabby room. “I shall come down. I’m eating for two, remember, and there is not space enough in here for all the food I require. Besides, I am eager to see m
y dear papa, I vow, and discover what he is scheming.”
“Scheming?”
“He is not staying here for the pleasure of the amenities, that is certain! My dear Lady Constantia, pray do not look so offended. I allow my tongue too free a rein, I know. I am well aware that my cousins have scarcely had time to realize their good fortune, let alone to refurbish the place. I promise I shall say nothing to them that might be taken amiss. Now, you were asking about Father’s scheming.”
“The duke said he wished to become better acquainted with his niece and nephew, and to make them acquainted with their other relatives.”
“La, how charmingly benevolent! No, he certainly has some nefarious business in mind, but you must not let it disturb you. Though Father makes a good deal more noise than Dolph, he is not much brighter and his plots almost always go astray.”
Almost always, thought Constantia, leaving Lady Warrington to the ministrations of her abigail. Ought she to warn Fanny and Frank that the duke’s daughter suspected him of plotting against them?
Chapter 14
Lady Warrington’s warning of future trouble was driven from Constantia’s mind by the troubles of the present. As she returned towards the hall, she met Mrs Tanner emerging from the chamber allotted to Lord and Lady Vincent. The usually placid housekeeper was looking decidedly ruffled.
“I don’t know what to do, my lady. Her ladyship’s in high fidgets because she’s to share a bed with her husband.”
Constantia blenched. “Where is Miss Fanny?”
“Still trying to stop the other ladies pulling caps.”
“See if you can find a truckle bed, Mrs Tanner, but Lady Vincent will have to share a chamber, at least, unless she is willing to move into the servants’ quarters. We cannot disrupt all our arrangements at this stage.” She braced herself. “I shall go and talk to her.”
Lady Vincent Kerridge was a picture of pathos, huddled in a low chair with tears trickling down her face. Her frilled white cap sat lopsidedly on untidy grey hair and an equally crooked brooch on her meagre bosom pinned a grey shawl about her thin shoulders.
“So sorry,” she wept. “I simply cannot...I do wish...But you will think...You see, it is...”
What it was took Constantia ten minutes of patient probing to discover. At last she elicited a whispered admission that Lady Vincent was afraid her husband would “bother” her.
Constantia put her hands to her fiery cheeks. Really, she had blushed more since Fanny’s relatives’ arrival than in the rest of her life to date. She wondered if she might have misunderstood.
“Is it not natural,” she said tentatively, “for a husband to...to bother his wife?”
“Natural?” Lady Vincent blinked at her. “You cannot...Not married...But men...Such nasty creatures...At my age...To put up with...Unspeakable...Quite impossible...”
Despite her sheltered life, Constantia had some understanding of relations between the sexes, though ignorant of the most intimate details. The only marriage she had ever closely observed, her parents’, was not now passionate, if it ever had been. Yet she found it difficult to believe that most women regarded men as nasty creatures to be put up with.
Only consider Fanny, who had seen plenty of life with the army. She appeared to want and to thoroughly enjoy Felix’s embraces, and she must have some notion to what intimacies they led.
“And my maid...Perfectly understandable...Refuses to come to me in case...Horrid!”
Constantia had no doubts of her ability to deal with servants. “I shall speak to your abigail, and I have directed the housekeeper to find a second bed for this room,” she said hastily, and made her escape.
When the chastened abigail was scurrying to attend her mistress, Constantia wearily made her way towards the drawing-room. In the hall she met Frank. As he approached, she tried to imagine him as a nasty creature bent upon horrid, unspeakable indecencies--and failed. She rather suspected that any indecencies he attempted would prove all too delightful.
His greeting brought her back to earth with a thump.
“My dear Lady Constantia, you look as if you had just beaten off an attack by Boney’s Imperial Guard.”
“You are full of compliments, Captain!”
He grinned. At least he had wiped the bashfulness from her beautiful face. Why was she suddenly shy of him? “Not compliments, but gratitude,” he said. “I wish you will not exhaust yourself trying to conciliate my wretched relatives. Come and sit down for a moment. You have had a trying morning.” He led her to one of the high-backed wooden settles by the fireplace and sat beside her.
“So far, today seems to have sped from one contretemps to another,” she agreed with a tired smile, leaning back.
“I gather all is not sweet conviviality above stairs, either.”
“Have Mr Yates and Lord Vincent been difficult?”
“Yates has a damnable--dashed sneering way about him. My skin is impervious, but he had poor Dolph cowering in a corner. My uncle Vincent merely sent the maid who came in to make up the fire screaming from the room.”
“Yes, I have learned of Lord Vincent’s propensities.”
“Surely he did not assault you!” Sudden anger blazed within him.
“No, no, though I fear Fanny...Lady Warrington believes he does not...Oh dear, I am beginning to sound like Lady Vincent, never finishing a sentence.” She was scarlet from the high neckline of her blue gown to the roots of her golden hair. “Lady Warrington says his...assaults are limited to...to minor improprieties.”
His lips twitched. “That is a relief. My sympathies are with his wife--or has she been equally troublesome?”
“In her way, but I hope I have relieved her concerns.” She rushed on as if to prevent his asking the nature of Lady Vincent’s concerns. “They all expect to be wrapped in luxury in a palace,” she said crossly, “and you did not even invite them.”
“Is Lady Warrington very demanding? From what I heard, I’d guess she and Godfrey Yates are birds of a feather.”
“To some extent, I daresay, though leaning towards mockery rather than contempt, if you consider the difference significant. Her manner is disconcerting, but she appears to accept you and Fanny as her cousins and to bear you no ill will.”
“No doubt she is married to a wealthy man and had few expectations from her grandfather’s will,” said Frank cynically.
“Perhaps.” Her satin-smooth forehead wrinkled in a worried frown. “She did mention that she doubts her father has truly abandoned his claim to your properties.”
“So do I. Mackintyre warned me that when the duke returns to Town he may find himself another lawyer to contest the will. There’s nothing we can do about it until it happens. At least he cannot forward his plans while he is at the Grange.”
“For all that, I wish him away!” Fanny joined them, slumping on the opposite settle. “And the rest with him.”
“Are your aunts still insisting on separate chambers?” Constantia asked.
“I don’t wonder they don’t care to share, for I should hate to be confined with either. One cannot speak to Lady Yates without being accused of attempting to hasten her end, which, incidentally, Frank, was our sole purpose in claiming our inheritance. She had her eye on at least one of the estates for her son, I daresay.”
“Which would have pleased the duke no better than our inheriting, I wager.”
“No doubt. Lady Elvira utterly refuses to accept that you are her host, not Uncle Oxshott. She runs his household at Telver Park, I collect, and expects to run this.”
“Oh Lord!” Frank groaned.
“For a start,” Fanny continued in despair, “she had her maid strip the sheets off her bed and demanded a different pair because they are darned and fit only for servants. And Lady Yates swears darned sheets will chafe her delicate skin into sores. The few others we possess are all as bad. What am I to do, Connie?”
“Stop letting their complaints distress you,” Constantia said firmly. “They are shockin
gly unreasonable. I shall advise them to remove to the inn for the night. I am quite certain the Pig and Piper’s sheets not only have holes in them but are damp!”
Frank laughed. Fanny summoned up a smile. “Shall you really?” she asked.
“Yes. You cannot, because you are their hostess, and because they are your relatives and you must conciliate them.” A touch of Lady Westwood’s hauteur mingled with Constantia’s indignation on Fanny’s behalf. “Their opinion is nothing to me. In any case they are not likely to subject me to such Turkish treatment.”
What a darling she was, Frank thought. Without her loyal support, even his intrepid sister might founder beneath the weight of the united censure of her toplofty aunts. He shuddered to think of Fanny’s plight if Constantia had meekly submitted to her mother’s summons. He wanted to take her in his arms and prove to her with kisses how much he admired her.
Instead he stood up. “I had better return to the fray. Felix handles them admirably, of course, but I must keep my hostly colours flying lest they forget who owns the Grange.”
He strode off, erect, with head held high, a soldier marching into battle.
Constantia gazed after him. “Your brother handles them admirably, also,” she said to Fanny, “and he has not Felix’s advantages. I marvel at his patience, at his not losing his temper.”
“A good officer must be patient and even-tempered, and Frank is--was a good officer. Connie, where is Anita?”
“Joan offered to keep her amused.”
“She and Henriette and Mrs Tanner are very good to her, but it is no part of their duties. I feel I’m taking advantage of their kindness.”
“We must look about for a nurse, now that Vickie and Miss Bannister are gone.” Constantia was glad of a chance to broach the subject. She had been avoiding it, knowing it would hurt Fanny.
“Yes, I can see I shan’t have time to care for her myself,” said Fanny sadly. “But nor have I time to find a nurse while my horrid relatives are here.”
“Lady Warrington is disposed in your favour, I believe. I shall go up now and see if I can make Lady Elvira and Lady Yates see sense. Or perhaps they will take my advice and remove to the Pig and Piper.”
