“My dear Evelina, you know perfectly well that our mother is blessed with an excellent constitution. How are the children?”
“Oh, they go on famously! You will not know Tony, he is grown so tall — and even little Jane—”
“I must see them, my dear. By the way, I understand that Georgy is staying here?”
Evelina’s face clouded. “Ye-es,” she admitted.
“What persuasion did you use to bring her?” he asked, smiling. “Only a few days before you left Town, she was saying that nothing would induce her to shut herself away in the country, as you were about to do.”
Evelina shrugged uneasily. “Stuff! There is always plenty going on in Richmond; as you know. We are not without neighbours, after all. But you know Georgy — she is a creature of impulse.”
“Perhaps. But there’s usually method in her madness. Where is she, by the way? I wonder she has not come to meet me.”
“Oh — she is in the garden with — with George,” said Evelina, hesitantly.
“George!” He stared. “What the devil is he doing here? The term is not yet ended.”
“Well — I fancy there was some trouble, and he has been sent down until next term — but not a word to Papa, mind, Hugh! I promised to keep him here until the term ends, when he may safely put in an appearance at home. It’s not much longer now, and there’s no point in putting Papa into a passion.”
“Silly young fool,” said Hugh, casually. “Was that why Georgiana came here, then?”
She hesitated for a moment. “No, for George did not arrive until a day or two after we did,” she admitted at last.
“Quite a family gathering,” he said, dryly. “Shall we step outside and join them?”
‘Oh, but surely you will want something to drink after driving all that way in this heat!” exclaimed Evelina, in a distracted way. “Only tell me what you will take, and after I’ve ordered it for you I’ll go and fetch the others.”
“Thank you, my dear; you may procure me a tankard of ale, and I’ll take it in the garden with the rest of the family. It will be cooler out of doors.”
As he spoke, he turned towards the french windows which opened on to the garden.
“Oh, but,” stammered his sister, holding on to his arm, “I think perhaps I should go first and let them know that you are here.”
He looked at her in amazement “Why on earth should you do so? Do you imagine they will wish to change their dress in my honour? A fine thing, if I must be announced to my own brother and sister!”
“Well, I—”
“Say no more, Eve.” He shook her off gently, and, walking over to the windows, pushed them open and stepped outside. “Do you know, I find myself suddenly impatient to set eyes on them?”
“But—”
She darted after him, pulling ineffectually at his arm. He stopped, and disentangled himself from her clutches.
“If I might persuade you not to maul my coat—” he protested, gently. “Surely Cunningham has taught you better in all this time?”
“I’m sorry—”
She broke away from him suddenly, and went darting down the steps in the direction of a small formal garden enclosed by clipped hedges.
“Georgy!” She raised her voice. “George! Here is Hugh come to see us!”
Beau Eversley could not help smiling at his sister’s antics. They served to confirm the suspicion which had brought him post-haste to Richmond. He made no comment, however, but followed closely on her heels as she approached a small arbour, the interior of which was almost concealed from view by a profusion of yellow climbing roses. His smile broadened as he watched his younger brother and sister hastily leave the shelter of the arbour in response to Eve’s summons, and come quickly across the lawn towards him.
“What a pleasant family party we are, to be sure,” he drawled. “George, I collect, has been sadly misunderstood at college and has sought refuge with his elder sister.”
“Don’t trouble to exercise your wit on me, Hugh — you might get the worse of the encounter,” warned George, with a grin that was a little sheepish.
“Do you think so?” Hugh countered, in a tone of incredulity. “Ah, well, never mind. Your presence here is accounted for, but I must confess myself puzzled at Georgy’s.”
“I — I — wanted a change of air,” Georgiana said hurriedly, kissing him. “But, as for that, why are you here, Hugh?”
“You are right, of course,” he parried. “Attack is the best method of defence.”
She gave a forced laugh. “So now I am to defend myself for visiting my own sister! What next will you think of, Hugh, I wonder?”
“You need not wonder for long,” he answered, abandoning his careless manner. “I’ve come to ask you a straight question, Georgy, and I’d like a straight answer.” He paused, watching her face. “Where is your friend Susan — er — Fyfield?”
She stared at him as though he had taken leave of his senses. It was very well done, he thought; but then Georgy had always been something of an actress.
“Susan? At home with her aunt, I imagine. How should I know? I’ve been out of Town for long enough.”
He nodded as though satisfied; then turned suddenly on Evelina.
“And you, Eve? Have you seen the girl?”
She started, and glanced surreptitiously at the rose arbour.
“I? Oh — er — no — goodness — why should I?”
His eyes had followed the direction of her glance. Suddenly he strode across the lawn towards the arbour.
“I say, Hugh,” said George, grabbing his arm. “I wish you would come and look at a mare I’ve just bought from a friend of mine. A rare bargain, I promise you — come and look her over, and see if you don’t agree.”
“No need,” replied Hugh, shaking him off firmly. “I’ll lay any odds you were taken in.”
“No such thing,” retorted George, indignantly, placing himself between his brother and the rose arbour. “Just slip round to the stables with me, and see if you don’t eat your words!”
“I’ve no intention of going anywhere at present,” said Hugh, flatly. “I mean to drink a tankard of ale in yonder shady arbour.”
He took a step towards it, but George barred his way. “I shouldn’t,” he said, hurriedly. “No air in there — much cooler under the trees — let’s go and sit—”
Hugh thrust George aside in the middle of his protests, and strode purposefully into the arbour before either of his sisters could prevent him.
He heard a stifled gasp as he entered, and caught sight of a figure in white muslin crouching behind the rustic seat which the arbour contained.
“So you are here,” he said. “I thought as much. You may as well come out now — I am not quite as addicted to the game of hide and seek as you seem to be.”
She moved from behind the seat and went out into the open, showing a flushed face to the others. George moved protectively to her side.
“Look here, Hugh, she don’t wish to see you.” He faced his brother defiantly. “I don’t know why — I’ve no notion what tricks you’ve been up to — but she ain’t obliged to see you if she don’t want to, and that’s that!”
“Dear me,” said the Beau, gently. “You appear to have found yourself a champion, Miss Susan.”
Susan put up an unsteady hand to brush a strand of dark hair from her eyes.
“George has been very kind to me,” she answered, quietly. “So have Evelina and Georgy.”
The Beau raised a quizzical eyebrow. “George?” he queried. “So you’re on Christian name terms?”
“What do you expect?” laughed Georgiana. “They’ve been under the same roof for the past fortnight, taking their meals together, riding together — even playing cards together! I promise you, Sue is become quite one of the family.”
“I see.” His tone lacked expression.
“The thing is,” said George, firmly, “Susan particularly desires to be left alone, so if you’ve come to badger h
er into returning to London, Hugh, you’ll have me to reckon with.”
“You terrify me,” drawled the Beau.
His eyes rested thoughtfully on his younger brother’s face. Although well into his twentieth year, so far George had never betrayed the slightest interest in any female. Like all the male Eversleys, he was a keen sportsman and spent the greater part of his vacations out of doors with friends of similar tastes. His behaviour towards Susan at Georgiana’s coming-out party had been much more in character than this sudden access of interest in the girl’s concerns. Hugh reflected wryly that it looked as though George had taken a tumble at last; he wondered how Susan might feel, and his glance moved to her.
She was standing close to George, so that their arms almost touched. It struck Hugh at once that she looked older in some indefinable way. Her face was a little thinner, and some of the piquancy had gone out of it. As Hugh watched her, she turned her face up to George with an expression of trust and affection in her eyes.
An unpleasant feeling suddenly seized the Beau in the pit of the stomach. He took a step towards them.
“Don’t think I don’t mean it, Hugh,” warned George, on his mettle.
“My dear chap, of course you do,” replied his brother, in a quiet tone. “Make yourself easy. I came only because Mrs. Fyfield desired me to ascertain, if I could, where her niece had gone; and I deduced from Georgy’s absence that I might find Miss Susan here.”
“That’s Susan’s aunt, ain’t it?” asked George, puzzled. “Why the devil should she ask you to look for Susan, I’d like to know?” He turned to his sisters. “There’s something dashed havey cavey going on here, and I’m not sure that you two don’t know what it is! I don’t mind telling you that for days past I’ve had more than a suspicion that there was something in the wind!”
“Dear George,” said Georgiana, sweetly, “you are always so quick in the uptake!”
“No sauce from you, vixen!” He turned to Susan, and his tone softened. “Won’t you tell me what all this is about? Believe me, I am yours to command in anything — and if you don’t want Hugh here you have only to say!”
She shook her head. “Forgive me, George,” she said, with a quiet dignity that the Beau had never noticed in her before, “but all I can tell you at present is that I — I became involved in a silly scrape through my own folly. Far from annoying me, your brother has tried to help me out of it.”
“I wish you had come to me!” exclaimed George.
“I did not know you then as I do now,” she replied, and Hugh winced inwardly. “But if you have no objection, all of you, I would like just to say a few words in private to Mr. Eversley.”
“As long as you’re quite sure—” began George, doubtfully.
She flashed a warm smile at him as she nodded. Reluctantly, he turned away with his sisters towards the house.
“Shall I send the ale out to you now?” asked Evelina, as they went.
“Later,” replied Hugh.
For a moment, he watched their retreating figures. Then he turned to Susan.
“Shall we sit down?”
They entered the arbour, and sat side by side on the bench, amid the perfume of roses.
“I suppose you must have thought it very foolish in me to hide away from you,” said Susan. “But I thought you had come on a chance visit, and if possible I wanted to keep my presence here a secret.”
“On the contrary, I apologize for being obliged to inflict myself on you,” replied the Beau, dryly. “But Mrs. Fyfield was becoming anxious at not hearing any news of you since you left a fortnight ago. She came to me thinking that I might know where you could be found.”
“But,” objected Susan, “she knew very well that I had not told you where I was going. I made a particular point of that in the letter I left for her.”
“I think she felt you might have relented, you know,” he said, smiling. “In any event, she was in a mood to clutch at straws.”
“Poor Aunt Hattie!” exclaimed Susan, with a sigh. “I fear I have used her very ill! But it was such a dreadful shock — and I had to get away, so that I might think what was to be done.”
“And have you now decided?” he asked, gently.
She nodded. “Yes. I think I must try to discover who I really am. I’ve been talking things over with Georgy and Evelina; and they feel, too, that this would be best, if it can be done. But it may not be possible,” she added, in a less sanguine tone, “for I’ve written to Mr. Watson, and he can tell me nothing at all.”
“Then that would explain why your — why Mrs. Fyfield did not find him alarmed at your absence. She went to see him when first you were missing, and later she complained to me that he had taken the whole matter very calmly — which, of course, was natural, when he knew all the time where you might be found.”
“I did ask him to keep my direction from her for the time being,” explained Susan. “Perhaps it was selfish of me, but—” She paused and coloured a little — “I felt I must go right away from — from everyone.”
“And perhaps particularly from me?”
“Yes,” she answered, looking down at her hands, which were clasped together in her lap. “I felt so — so ashamed!” she said, in a rush. “I had put you in such a — a false position, by my stupid folly, and then what Aunt Hattie revealed about my parentage only made matters worse! But not for anything could I have stayed there, and — and become an object of — of your — chivalry! The only thing to do was to go right away where you couldn’t find me!”
It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her just how often his thoughts had turned to her during her absence; but he thought of the new understanding which he had noticed between George and herself, and he kept silent.
“So you came here,” he said, after a pause. “How did you contrive it? It was the only thing that puzzled me when it first occurred to me that you might be in Richmond with my sisters. I could think of no way in which you could have seen my sister Georgy that day in order to enlist her aid.”
“I saw her at the masquerade,” said Susan, simply.
He was betrayed into surprise. “But how? And how could you know she would be there?”
She explained what had happened. He listened in silence; at the end an exclamation escaped him.
“You say you were loitering in the garden? But — in that case—”
He broke off, remembering the mysterious lady in the black lace mask whom he had pursued and kissed that same evening.
He stole a quick look at her, and saw that she was blushing.
“Never mind that,” she said, uncertainly. “I contrived to slip into the ballroom, and find Georgy. I was wearing a mask and domino, and no one noticed me in all that crowd. And when I’d told Georgy what had happened, she recollected that her elder sister was to come to Richmond on the following day. So she slipped away from the masquerade for long enough to escort me to Evelina’s Town house, and then went back to the Radleys’ in time for you to take her in to supper. She said you would never notice her absence, and it seems you didn’t.”
“I shall certainly watch that young woman more closely if ever I’m such a gull as to escort her anywhere again,” said Hugh, grimly. “It would have been all the same, I dare say, if she’d been planning an elopement! But to return — I collect you were then obliged to confide to a certain extent in my sister Evelina?”
“Yes. She has been so good — indeed, they all have!”
“It is not difficult to be good to you, Susan.”
For a moment their eyes met. She turned quickly away. He felt a sudden impulse to take her in his arms, and restrained himself with difficulty.
“I collect that both my sisters are in your confidence, but you have not confided to any extent in my brother George?” he asked, with an effort to steer away from dangerous ground.
She shook her head. “I didn’t want everyone to know. Besides, George—” She hesitated.
“Yes?” he asked, sharply.
&n
bsp; “Oh, nothing. Only we have become such close friends — -and he might despise me, if he knew.”
He was about to remark cynically that George could ill afford to sit in judgement on anyone else for getting into a scrape; but again he refrained. If Susan had indeed outgrown her hero-worship of himself, and was beginning to entertain a more mature feeling for his younger brother, he must not throw any rub in the way. After all, had he not always believed and hoped that this very thing would happen eventually?
“I doubt if he would,” Hugh contented himself with saying. “But perhaps it may be best not to take him into your confidence until you’ve solved this mystery about your parentage. How do you mean to set about it, since you’ve discovered that your lawyer cannot help you?”
She frowned. “Truth to tell, I don’t know where to begin. I suppose if Aunt Hattie — I can’t become accustomed to calling her by any other name! — if she had been able to tell me anything at all to the purpose, she would have done so on that dreadful day. So obviously there is no use in plaguing her with questions; and for the life of me, I can’t think of anyone else who could help!”
“You might try me,” he said, quietly.
She glanced quickly at him, and coloured. “You have been put to trouble enough on my behalf!” she replied, passionately. “When I think of the situation into which I forced you — I have thought of it often, since, and the mere recollection makes me squirm in shame! — I wonder that you can bear the sight of me!”
To his surprise, he found himself unable to answer her for a moment. He took a firm grip on himself.
“You take it all too seriously,” he said, with forced lightness.
She looked abashed; too late he realized that his words had made her feel small, instead of conveying reassurance. He hastened to turn the conversation back into the original channel.
“What I really meant was that I am ready — no, eager — to help you, if you will only accept my assistance. I have already plagued your — er — Mrs. Fyfield — with questions, as you put it. She, too, I may say, is anxious to solve the riddle, for she holds you in as much affection as if you were truly her niece — of that you may be assured, Susan.” He spoke the last words with emphasis, and had the satisfaction of seeing the hurt expression leave her eyes.
The Clandestine Betrothal Page 13
