Patricia Veryan - [Sanguinet Saga 01] - Some Brief Folly (25 page)

"I fear those admirers are soon to be shattered," drawled
Hawkhurst. "For Miss Buchanan is recently betrothed, I believe."

"Indeed?' The Admiral turned a disappointed gaze upon the
girl. "Who is the lucky fellow who has won your heart, may I ask?"

"I rather doubt he is the gentleman your grandson has in mind,
sir," she answered demurely. And conscious of Hawkhurst's start, went
on, "Colonel Tristram Leith was here today, and—"

"Leith? Now, by heaven, that's a splendid choice! A most
valiant young fellow. Hear he's just been appointed to Wellington's
staff. By gad, I'd be proud to have him for a grandson, I don't mind
telling you!"

You, sir, should be spanked! thought Euphemia. And, not
looking at Hawkhurst's blank smile, she said, "Yes, I love Tristram
dearly. He is a lifelong friend. But, alas, we would not suit."

Wetherby looked positively thunderstruck. "Not… suit?" he
gasped. "You rejected
Leith
?"

He made it sound as though she had kicked an Archbishop, and
she replied mildly, "Oh, yes. And have done any time these two years.
But he knows now that I shall never wed him, for what gentleman wants a
lady whose heart is already given?"

From the corner of her eye she saw Hawkhurst's fingers clamp
convulsively over a fold of the tablecloth. Then she was standing. The
Admiral fairly jumped to assist her. She told him archly, as he bowed
her from the room, that she would go to prepare her music and left them
alone.

As the doors closed behind her, she leaned back against them
with a sigh of relief. She had allowed them barely ten minutes. How she
had found the effrontery to do so, she could not guess. Surely the old
gentleman could not maul poor Hawk too badly in ten minutes… ?

"Well, sir?" demanded Lord Wetherby curtly. "What have you to
say to that?" He puffed at his cigarillo, glared at his grandson
through the resultant cloud of smoke, and waved it away impatiently.

"I was… unlucky at the tables," offered Hawkhurst slowly.

"Unlucky? Man, you were accursed!
Twenty-five
thousand pounds
? In
three
months? My
God! Are you run quite mad?" Hawkhurst remaining silent, he went on
irascibly, "What is it? These endless women of yours? Oh, I heard you'd
lured the Rexham girl here, shameless baggage! Her husband should take
his whip to her sides—and his pistol to you, sir!"

"No woman comes here unwillingly, Grandfather."

"And no woman stays, eh? Nor could anyone blame 'em!"
Hawkhurst's brows flickered slightly, and, hating this, Wetherby said a
gruff, "I'm sorry. Whatever was between you and Blanche was your own
affair. But… I just cannot—"

"Forgive me it? I understand that, sir. But, do you still
believe I killed her?"

"How
dare
you ask such a thing?" The
Admiral's clenched fist slammed down onto the table, sending walnuts
tumbling from the bowl and wine splashing. "Of course I do not believe
it! What the devil do you take me for? Not for one instant did I pay
heed to such irresponsible scandal-mongering. And, if you cared for me
one whit, you would know that!"

The emptiness was struck from his grandson's eyes. His face
twisted as his control broke, and in a rare display of emotion he
leaned forward and said hoarsely, "
Care
for you?
Sir, you know that I respect and… and love you, more than any man
living! Do not… please—"

"If you loved me," the Admiral interposed with low-voiced
bitterness, "you'd not have driven her from you. That you contrived her
death is a filthy lie. But that you were indirectly responsible, I know
too well. She came to see me just days before she ran from you. Ah, you
didn't know that, I see! She showed me the—the bruises… the welts you
dared to put on her. Lord! I could scarcely believe my own eyes. That
sweet, heavenly child." He waited, his eyes pleading for a denial, but
the younger man's head was sunk onto his chest, and he was silent. "For
that," said Wetherby huskily, "I
never
shall
forgive you. However she may have met her death, you drove her to it.
And in so doing also destroyed that… that very dear and innocent…
little boy." He turned away, his mouth quivering betrayingly.
Hawkhurst's head bowed lower, his teeth driving into his underlip as he
fought to regain his control.

"Enough… for that," the Admiral decreed. "The past cannot be
undone, unfortunately. But the future may be guarded. Do you continue
at this rate of reckless debauchery, squandering thousands on your
women and at play, even your great inheritance must be gone within five
years. Dominer, thank God, is entailed, so that weak-chinned whelp of
Lottie's will—"

"Coleridge has chin enough and to spare, sir!" Hawkhurst's
head flung upward, a resentful gleam lighting his eyes. "He has stood
up to me and given me back as good as he got, I do—"

"Words! Pah! Has he ever bested you with the foils? Has he
ever stood up under those famous fists of yours? He is a dandy, sir! An
effeminate, dainty do-nothing who lacks the gumption to hie himself
over to Spain, and—"

"No, sir! Colley is no coward. Young and striving to find
himself, perhaps. A dandy, unfortunately, yes, though I do believe he
will outgrow it. But he will not relinquish his plans, no matter how I
hammer at him, and—"

"Oh, have done with interrupting me!" his lordship interrupted
fiercely. "I came here not to be diverted by your companionship of that
nincompoop, but to tell you, flat out, I'll not stand by and see you
squander your fortune!"

Hawkhurst said in a quiet, controlled voice, "I am nine years
past coming of age, sir. Your pardon, but what I do with my fortune is
my own affair."

"Why, you damned impertinent cub!" Pale with anger, Wetherby
was on his feet, both hands flat on the table, as he rasped out, "Do
you
dare
to imagine that, because your
inheritance comes to you from your mother's house, I've no say in the
matter? Fortune or no, it is
my
name and title
that will come to you someday! And, though the Hawkhurst fortune cannot
compare with the Thorndyke, I take it very ill if you presume to tell
me I count for nought in this family!"

"I had no such intent, sir! Truly, I—"

"You had best
not
have! I may be only an
old ex-sea dog now, but I've still a name in this country that all your
indiscretions cannot mar.
I
honour the Thorndyke
name, and, however little it may mean to you, I'll not see you strip
both respect
and
fortune from the estate! God
knows I've little use for that puppy, Bryce, but there
may
be hope for him, and I'll not stand by and watch you reduce him to
inheriting a great house he'll not be able to afford to maintain!"
Jabbing one finger at the silenced young man, he barked, "I give you
six months, Garret. And that is five months longer than I
should
allow you!"

"And then, sir?"

"Do you continue with this insane folly, much as it would pain
me, I shall have no alternative but to judge you… mentally
incompetent." He heard Hawkhurst's gasp and clenched his fists, forcing
himself to continue. "I shall take steps, therefore, to have Belmont
certify you as such… and remove you from control." Shattered by the
stunned white face, the horrified disbelief in the eyes of this young
man he could not stop loving in spite of everything, he went on, "These
past three years you have frittered away more funds than most men see
in a lifetime—but twenty-five thousand in three months? No, sir! That
is too much to be dropped at the tables, or charmed from your pockets
by your flashy ladybirds! Call an end to it! Or… be warned! I shall!"

He snatched up his cigarillo, shoved his chair clear, and,
stamping to the door, grated, "Come. I have said what I came to say,
and your lovely guest has sufficient backbone to carry out her threat
and refuse to sing for us. Now,
there's
the type
of girl for you, Hawkhurst! Not that she'd give you a second look, of
course, for she's been properly bred up, I don't doubt. Indeed, I
wonder that fine brother of hers did not remove her from this notorious
den of yours—page or no page!"

He flung the door wide and, having received no answer, glanced
back. His grandson was still sprawled at the table, a hand across his
eyes. For an instant the old gentleman's shoulders sagged. For an
instant his proud head was bowed also, and he submitted to the lash of
heartbreak.

Hawkhurst pulled himself together somehow, started around, and
saw that dejected figure. A slow, admiring smile curved his lips. It
had hurt the dear old fellow to do this. That knowledge strengthened
him immeasurably. He turned quickly away and, making quite a noisy
procedure of pushing back his chair, faced his now recovered
grandparents with his chin as high, his eyes as bored as ever. And,
sauntering to his side, thought, "… now
there's
the type of girl for you, Hawkhurst… Not that she'd give you a second
look…"

"Now if you ask, what did he do
In such a situation?
Why, sirs, he did what you'd do too.
And did it with… elation!"

Her heart pounding at such daring, Euphemia lifted her hands
from the keys of the pianoforte and stole a glance at two astounded
faces. They had both looked so strained when first they came in, but
perhaps she had gone too far.

The Admiral slapped one hand on his thigh and gave vent to a
howl of mirth. Hawkhurst, his brows raised, but laughter brightening
his weary eyes, crossed to the piano and murmured, "You brave girl! How
often have you sung that piece of naughtiness?"

"Never, I do assure you," she said, looking up at him
mischievously. "Buchanan would be most shocked. But, I thought… well,
you seemed—"

"Yes. You're an angel. It did wonderfully."

His hand came out as if to touch her cheek. His eyes held that
special tenderness that made her heart twist painfully, but then the
Admiral came to join them, and Hawkhurst drew back.

"By George, ma'am, but you are one in a million!" laughed
Wetherby. "Fear not, we shall keep your secret. Our Wellington would
enjoy hearing that!"

"Oh, he has, sir. But, not rendered by me, I promise you."

The door flew open, and cries of welcome rang out. As the
family hurried in to greet the old gentleman, Euphemia detected love in
Dora's eyes, anxiety in those of her sister-in-law, and an affectionate
respect on the face of young Coleridge. Stephanie, straightening her
hair nervously, looked flushed and quite definitely pretty. And Simon…
Dismay touched her, and she crossed to where he hesitated just inside
the door. "Does your shoulder pain you, dear?"

"No, no. I feel perfectly fit, thank you. And do not seek to
defend by way of attack, Mia. Where were you? I'll have you know, my
girl, that, had it been any but Leith, I'd have been after you with a
loaded musket to say the least of it!"

"Then you would have wasted your shot." She squeezed the hand
she held. "Foolish one, did you think I would be so gauche as to elope?
Or that Tristram would be so ungallant? He offered again, and I sent
him away saddened, which worries me so." Simon's face darkened. He did
not like her to dwell on the possibility of casualties, and therefore
she went on brightly, "Admiral Wetherby and I have been going on
famously, though he's predictable as any volcano."

"So I've heard. Hawkhurst looks a trifle green about the
gills. Have they come to blows already?"

"I fear so, though I—Oh dear!"

It was very plain that hostilities had broken out anew.
Hawkhurst looked grim, Wetherby appeared about to explode, and
Coleridge, very pale, all but trembled.

"Sent
down
?" roared the Admiral. "Why,
in God's name? Or dare I hazard a guess? You were defending your
cousin's 'reputation,' eh?"

Carlotta threw a shocked look at her son, and the boy reddened
to the roots of his hair.

"Is that true, Colley?" Hawkhurst snapped, his face rigid.

Bryce floundered helplessly. "Well, I… er—"

"Oh,
no
!" wailed Lady Carlotta. "Is it
never
going to end? How much
more
grief must we all
suffer?"

Those awful words seemed to hang on the air through the
breathless pause that followed. Longing to scratch her, Euphemia
instead slipped back to the piano bench and began softly to play the
Spanish ditty she had sung earlier. The Admiral slanted a glance at
her, the rageful glitter fading from his eyes. His gaze lowering, he
stared, began to grin, then clapped a hand over his mouth. It was too
late; all eyes had followed his. Dora went into a peal of mirth, Bryce
chortled gleefully, and they were soon all convulsed.

From beneath the rich brocade of Euphemia's stylish gown, a
sturdy riding boot was clearly visible upon the pedal. She had
completely forgotten the fact, but it proved heavensent, and her wry
explanation that she tended to be forgetful sent Wetherby into new
whoops.

Vowing he also was forgetful of his manners, he demanded that
Sir Simon be presented and next commanded cheerily that they all gather
around the piano "and sing together, as we was used to do!" And thus,
very soon the gracious room rang to the happy sounds of music and song,
and a merry time they made of it.

Hawkhurst's aching head was not helped by the music, however,
and gradually he eased back from the glow cast by candles and firelight
and seated himself in a shadowed corner, watching the pleasant scene.
Euphemia was hidden from his view by the singers gathered about the
piano, and he told himself sternly that it was just as well. She had
been a friend, indeed, and, save for her, this evening would have ended
very differently. But to allow his interests to wander in that
direction must be the very height of folly!