CHAPTER IX
AN INTERRUPTED WOOING
Sir Charles pushed forward the big chair for Patricia, and himselfdropped upon a stool at her feet. Taking her fan from her, he began toplay with it, lightly commenting on the picture of the Rape of Europawith which it was adorned. Suddenly he closed it, tossed it aside, andleaning forward, possessed himself of her hand.
"Madam, sweet cousin, divinest Patricia," he exclaimed in a carefullyimpassioned tone; "do you not know that I am your slave, the captive ofyour bow and spear, that I adore you? I adore you! and you,flinty-hearted goddess, give no word of encouragement to your prostrateworshiper. You trample upon the offering of sighs and tears which helays at your feet; you will not listen when he would pour into your earhis aspirations towards a sweeter and richer life than he has everknown. Will it be ever thus? Will not the goddess stoop from her throneto make him the happiest of mortals, to win his eternal gratitude, tobecome herself forever the object of the most respectful, the mostardent, the most devoted love?"
He flung himself upon his knee and pressed her hand to his heart withpassion not all affected. He had come to consider it a piece ofmonstrous good luck, that, since he must make a wealthy match,Providence (or whatever as a Hobbist he put in place of Providence),had, in pointing him the fortune, pointed also to Patricia Verney. Butthe night before, in the privacy of his chamber, he had suddenly sat upbetween the Holland sheets with a startled and amused expression uponhis handsome face, swathed around with a wonderful silken night-cap, andhad exclaimed to the carven heads surmounting the bed-posts, "May theLard sink me! but I'm in love!" and had lain down again with anastonished laugh. While sipping his morning draught he made up his mindto secure the prize that very day, in pursuance of which determinationhe made a careful toilet, assuming a suit that was eminently becoming tohis blonde beauty. Also his valet slightly darkened the lower lids ofhis eyes, thereby giving him a larger, more languishing and melancholyaspect.
Patricia, from the depths of the Turkey worked chair, gazed with calmamusement upon her kneeling suitor.
"You talk beautifully, cousin," she said at length. "'Tis as good as apage from 'Artemene.'"
Sir Charles bit his lip. "It is a page from my heart, madam; nay, it ismy heart itself that I show you."
"And would you forsake all those beautiful ladies who are so madly inlove with you?--I vow, sir, you told me so yourself! Let me see, therewas Lady Mary and Lady Betty, Mistress Winifred, the Countess of ---- andMadame la Duchesse de ----. Will Corydon leave all the nymphs lamentingto run after a little salvage wench who does not want him?"
"'S death, madam! you mock me!" cried the baronet, starting to hisfeet.
"Sure, I meant no harm, cousin; I but put in a good word for the poorladies at Whitehall. I fear that you are but a recreant wooer."
"Will you marry me, madam?" demanded Sir Charles, standing before herwith folded arms.
She slowly shook her head. "I do not love you, cousin."
"I will teach you to do so."
"I do not think you can," she said demurely. "Though I am sure I do notknow why I do not. You are a very fine gentleman, a soldier and acourtier, witty, brave and handsome--and this match"--a sigh--"is myfather's dearest wish. But I do not love you, sir, and I shall not marryyou until I do."
"Ah!" cried Sir Charles, and sunk again upon his knee. "You give mehope! I will teach you to love me! I will exhibit towards you suchabsolute fidelity, such patient devotion, such uncomplaining submissionto your cruel probation, that you will perforce pity me, and pity willgrow by soft degrees into blessed love. I do not despair, madam!" Hepressed her hand to his lips and cast his fine eyes upward in a killinglook.
Patricia gave a charming laugh. "As you please, Sir Charles. In the meantime let us be once more simply good friends and loving cousins. Tell meas much as you please of Lady Mary's charms, but leave Patricia Verney'salone."
Sir Charles rose from his knees, smarting under an amazed sense offailure, and very angry with the girl who had discarded him, CharlesCarew, as smilingly as if he had been one of the very provincial youthswhom he awed into awkward silence every time they came to Verney Manor.Without doubt she deserved the condign punishment which it was in hispower to inflict by sailing away upon the next ship which should leavefor England. But he was now obstinately bent upon winning her. If notto-day, to-morrow; and if not to-morrow, the next day; and if not that,the day after. He was of the school of Buckingham and Rochester. Hecould devote to the capture of a woman all the tireless energy, thestrategic skill, the will, the patience, the daring, of a great general.He could mine and countermine, could plan an ambuscade here, and lead aforlorn hope there, could take one intrenchment by storm, and another bytreachery. And victory seldom forsook her perch upon his banners.
Life in Virginia was pleasant enough, and he could afford to devoteseveral months to this siege. As to how it would terminate he had notthe slightest doubt. But just now it was the course of wisdom to retreatupon the position held yesterday, and that as quickly as possible. So hesmoothed his face into a fine calm, modulated his voice into its usualtone of languor, and said with quiet melancholy:--
"You are pleased to be cruel, madam. I submit. I will bide my time untilthat thrice happy day when you will have learnt the lesson I wouldteach, when Love, tyrannous Love, shall compel your allegiance as hedoes mine."
"A far day!" said Patricia with soft laughter. "You had best return toLady Mary. I do not think that I shall ever love."
She lifted her white arms, and clasping them behind her head, gazed athim with soft, bright, untroubled eyes and smiling lips. The sunlight,filtering through the darkened windows in long bright stripes, laid ashaft of gold athwart her shoulder and lit her hair into a glory. Fromout the distance came the colonel's voice:--
"In his train see sweet Peace, fairest Queen of the sky, Ev'ry bliss in her look, ev'ry charm in her eye. Whilst oppression, corruption, vile slav'ry and fear At his wished for return never more shall appear. Your glasses charge high, 'tis in great Charles' praise, In praise, in praise, 'tis in great Charles' praise."
Some one outside the door coughed, and then rattled the latchvigorously. These precautions taken, the door was opened and thereappeared Mistress Lettice, gorgeously attired, and with an extra row ofringlets sweeping her withered neck, and a deeper tinge of vermilionupon her cheeks,--for she had waked that morning with a presentimentthat Mr. Frederick Jones would ride over in the course of the day. SirCharles rose to hand her to a chair, but she waved him back with a thin,beringed hand.
"I thank you, Sir Charles; but I will not trouble you. I am going downto the summer-house by the road, as I think the air there will cure mymigraine. Patricia, love, I am looking for my 'Clelie,'--the fourthvolume. Have you seen it?"
"No, Aunt Lettice."
"It is very strange," said Mrs. Lettice plaintively. "I am sure that Ileft it in this room. 'Tis that careless slut of a Chloe who deserves awhipping. She hides things away like a magpie."
"Look in the window; you may have left it there," said Patricia.
Mrs. Lettice approached the window, laid a hand upon the curtain, andstarted back with a scream.
"What is it, madam?" cried the baronet.
"'Tis a man! a horrid, horrid man hiding there, waiting to cut all ourthroats in the dead of night as the Redemptioner did to the family atMartin-Brandon! Oh! Oh! Oh!" and Mrs. Lettice threw her apron over herhead, and sank into the nearest chair.
Patricia started up. Sir Charles, striding hastily towards the window,his hand upon his sword, was met by the emerging figure of Landless.
The two gazed at each other, Sir Charles' first haughty surprise fastdeepening into passion as he remembered that the man before him hadassisted at the scene of a while before, had witnessed his discomfiture,had seen him upon his knees, baffled, repulsed, even laughed at!
He was the first to speak. "Well, sirrah," he said between his teeth,"what have you to say f
or yourself?"
"That I ask your pardon," said Landless steadily. "I should have madeknown my presence in the room. But at first I thought you aware of it;and when I discovered that you were not, I ... it seemed best to remainsilent. I was wrong. I should have made some sign even then. Again, Ibeg your pardon." He turned to Patricia, who stood, tall, straight, andcoldly indignant, beside the chair from which she had risen. "Madam," hesaid in a voice that faltered, despite himself, "I crave yourforgiveness."
She bit her coral under lip, and looked at him from under veiledeyelids. It was a cruel look, very expressive of scorn, abhorrence, andperhaps of fear.
"My father hath many unmannerly servants," she said coldly and clearly,"who often provoke me. But I pardon them because they know no better. Itseems that like allowance cannot be made for you. However," she smiledicily, "I shall not complain of you to my father, which assurance willdoubtless content you."
Landless turned from burning red to deadly white. His eyes, fixed uponthe floor, caught the rich shimmer of her skirts as she moved towardsthe door; a moment and she was gone, leaving the two men facing eachother.
Between them there existed a subtle but strong antagonism. Sir CharlesCarew, courtier in a coarse and shameless court masquerading under aglittering show of outward graces, had taken lazy delight in heapingquiet insults upon the man who could not resent them. This amusement hadbeguiled the tedium of the Virginia voyage; and when chance threw themtogether upon a Virginia plantation, where life flowed on in one long,placid lack of variety, the sport became doubly prized. It had to bepursued at longer intervals, but pursued it was. Heretofore theamusement had been all upon one side; now, Sir Charles felt a chagrinedsuspicion that it was he who had afforded the entertainment.Simultaneously with arriving at this conclusion he arrived at a pointwhere he was coldly furious.
Landless returned his look coolly and boldly. He considered that he hadmade quite sufficient apology for an offense which was largelyinvoluntary, and he was in no mood for further abasement.
"You are an insolent rascal," said the baronet smoothly.
Landless smiled. "Sir Charles Carew should be a good judge ofinsolence."
Sir Charles took a leisurely pinch of snuff, shook the fallen grainsfrom his ruffles, snapped the lid of the box, looked languishingly atthe miniature that adorned it, replaced the box in his pocket, andremarked, "Well, I am waiting!"
"And for what?"
"To hear your petition that I forbear to bring this matter to the noticeof your master. The lady mercifully gave you her promise. I suppose Imust follow so fair an example."
"Sir Charles Carew may wait till doomsday to hear that or any otherrequest made by me to him or to the lady--who does not seem alwaysmercifully inclined--" he broke off with a slight and expressive smile.
Sir Charles took another pinch of snuff. "May the Lard blast me," hedrawled, "if they do not teach repartee at Newgate! But I forget thatthe tongue is the only weapon of women and slaves."
"Some day I hope to teach you otherwise."
The other laughed. "So the slave thinks he can use a sword? Where did helearn? In Newgate, from some broken captain, as payment for impartingthe trick of stealing by the Book?"
Landless forced himself to stand quiet, his arms folded, his fingerstightly clenching the sleeves of his coarse shirt. "Shall I tell SirCharles Carew where I first used my sword with good effect?" he said inan ominously quiet voice. "At Worcester I was but a stripling, but Ifought by the side of my father. I remember that, young as I was, Idisabled a very pretty perfumed and ringleted Cavalier. I think he wasafterwards sold to the Barbadoes. And my father praised my sword play."
"Your father," said the other, bringing his strong white teeth togetherwith a click. "Like father, like son. The latter a detected rogue,gaol-bird, and slave; the former a d--d canting, sniveling Roundheadhypocrite and traitor, with a text ever at hand to excuse parricide andsacrilege."
Landless sprang forward and struck him in the face.
He staggered beneath the weight of the blow; then, recovering himself,he whipped out his rapier, but presently slapped it home again. "I am agentleman," he said, with an airy laugh. "I cannot fight you." Andstood, slightly smiling, and pressing his laced handkerchief to hischeek whence had started a few drops of blood.
Mrs. Lettice, whom curiosity or the search for the fourth volume of"Clelie" had detained in the room, screamed loudly as the blow fell; andColonel Verney, appearing at the door, stopped short, and stared fromone to the other of the two men.
Prisoners of Hope: A Tale of Colonial Virginia Page 9
