A Civil Contract (19 page)

‘What an odious female! I hope you gave her a set-down?’

‘Oh, no! Why should I? I’m sure it wasn’t to be wondered at,’ she responded. Her eyelids lifted as the butler came in, bearing the massive silver tea-tray. This was set down on a table before her, and, having satisfied herself that a plate of freshly-made macaroons stood upon it, she nodded dismissal, and began to make the tea.

‘How comfortable this is!’ Adam remarked, sinking into a chair. ‘I thought you must have had tea more than an hour ago, and had quite made up my mind to it that I should get none – for I shouldn’t have dared to ask for it, after my abominable perfidy!’

‘Well, what a notion to take into your head!’ she said. ‘As though you might not have tea whenever you chose to call for it in your own house! Oh, you’re joking me, are you? I have a very good mind to hide the macaroons from you!’

‘Not my favourite macaroons as well?’ he exclaimed. ‘Jenny, that’s coals of fire! What made you think I should arrive tonight? Or is it just a lucky chance?’

She did not tell him that she had given orders for macaroons to be made every day, but only smiled, handing him the plate, and asked him if his business at Fontley had prospered.

‘Well, not entirely, perhaps – but never mind that! I went on to Holkham, you know. I wished you had been with me: you’d have liked it, I think. They are the kindest people – just Mr Coke, and his daughter: a very unaffected, intelligent girl. I was charged with all sorts of civil messages for you, and pledged myself to take you there for the Holkham Clippings, in August. Ah! I’ve had no tea like this since I left town! You don’t know how often I’ve yearned for it!
Exactly
as it should be! Thank you! Tell me what you have been doing since I left you! Not drudging over that stitchery all the time, I do trust?’

‘Oh, dear me, no!’ she responded. ‘I have been going about a great deal, I promise you, besides receiving more morning-callers than I looked for.’ She paused, longing for the courage to ask him what had been engaging his time at Fontley. He enquired, instead, who had been her morning-callers. Her countenance betrayed neither hurt nor chagrin; tacitly accepting his reserve, she began to enumerate her visitors, adding one or two caustic comments which made him laugh.

He was glad to discover from her account of her activities that she seemed to be finding her feet in society. She had attended several parties, visited an exhibition, driven in the Park with one of her new acquaintances, and had even ventured to invite the Adversanes to go with her to the Opera – though not without misgiving. ‘But Brough told me they don’t rent a box, and it seemed a shame ours should be standing empty, when it was
Alceste
, which Lady Adversane was particularly wishful to hear, so I plucked up my courage, and asked her if she would be so kind as to go with me. She didn’t take it amiss, so I was glad I’d done it.’

‘I expect she was very much obliged to you. It comes as news to me, however, that we rent a box at the Opera House. What do we pay for it? Or don’t we?’

Her colour rushed up; she cast him a wary glance, faltering: ‘Papa thought – It was a present to me, because he knows I’m fond of music. I’m sorry!’

‘Why should you be? It’s I who owe you an apology: I ought to have attended to the matter – but I expect your box would be rather above my touch! I believe one is obliged to pay four hundred guineas for a quite inferior box, which I feel sure yours is not.’

She was silent, her face wearing the wooden look which he had come to recognize as a sign of discomfiture. His own colour rose; ashamed of having allowed his temper to ride him, he said penitently: ‘Now I
do
owe you an apology! Forgive me – or give me a trimming! Why don’t you? I certainly deserve that you should!’ She gave him instead a tiny shake of the head, and a tremulous smile. He said, with quick compassion: ‘My poor dear, you’re too patient – and will soon have the devil of a husband on your hands if you don’t take care! So you went to the Opera, and enjoyed it, I hope. What else?’

It was a moment before she could recover her balance, but she managed to do it, and to respond, with a little chuckle: ‘Well, I went with Mrs Usselby to a lecture by the Memory Man!’

‘The
what
?’

‘Memory Man – I’ve forgotten his name, but he is all the crack, I promise you! He teaches one how to remember every-thing, by supposing rooms with compartments – fifty to each room! Someone said he had reached the seventeenth room, but a Mr Frampton, who came up after the lecture to talk to Mrs Usselby, said he would wager he would be in a puzzle if he were asked to say what was in the forty-seventh compartment! I don’t think there’s anything more to tell you – except about the Peace Celebrations. There’s a great deal of what your Aunt Nassington calls
tracasserie
about the White’s Club ball, because by some means or another the Princess of Wales has contrived to obtain tickets for it, and the Prince Regent declares he won’t go to it if she does. I don’t know how it will be, or what the truth is, and I don’t believe anyone does, for everyone has a different story to tell about it!’ She paused, drew a breath, and said, with a slight effort: ‘The civic banquet is fixed for the 18th. I don’t know if you recall – if you would wish –’

He came to her rescue, anxious to make amends for his previous ill-humour. ‘Yes, to be sure I do. You were so kind as to invite Lydia to town to see all the lions go in procession to be fed. I think you said your father could procure a window for us. Has he done so? Lydia will be thrown into transports!’

‘Well, she is!’ Jenny disclosed, thankful to have cleared this fence, and speaking in a far more relaxed tone. ‘If only your mama will consent to let her come to us! I had a letter from Lydia yesterday. It seems they are pretty well established in the new house, so that there’s no reason why Lydia can’t be spared for a few weeks – particularly as she says your mama has met an old acquaintance with whom she is so excessively pleased that she talks of inviting her to stay in Camden Place, to bear her company. Apparently, she is living in straitened circumstances, and – and –’

‘Toadeats Mama?’ he interpolated.

‘Well, that’s what Lydia says,’ Jenny admitted. ‘In fact, she says Mrs Papworth is a Mrs Quarley-Bix – but that I don’t at all believe.’

‘Good God, I hope not! So Lydia comes to us?’

‘I do hope she may, but she says that Lady Lynton has certain scruples – not liking the notion of Lydia’s travelling without a proper escort, and not being able to spare Miss Poolstock to go with her.’

‘I’d give much to read Lydia’s account of this!’ he commented.

She laughed, but shook her head. ‘No, she didn’t say I might show it to you, so I shan’t. And I’m sure it is very natural that Lady Lynton should be anxious. The thing is, couldn’t we send Martha, in our own chaise, to fetch her? Do you think it would answer?’

‘What I think is that is nothing more nor less than a piece of fudge!’ he replied impatiently. ‘As for your sending Martha, nonsense! Pray, why should you be expected to spare
your
dresser?’

‘But I’m not expected to,’ she argued. ‘It’s quite my own notion. I perfectly understand your mama’s feelings – for the maid that waits on Lydia is far too young to answer the purpose, you know.’

‘I don’t – and nor do I know why a young maid won’t serve as well as an older one for such a simple journey. If Lydia were obliged to spend a night on the road it would be another matter, but it’s no such thing. Send your chaise, if you wish (though that’s nonsensical too!), but certainly not Martha!’

She said submissively: ‘I won’t, if you forbid me, but I wish you won’t! I’m afraid Lady Lynton won’t let Lydia come to us otherwise, and only think how disappointing! I should like so much to have her with me: indeed, I’ve been making all sorts of schemes!’

He was as much pleased as surprised. ‘Do you really wish it? You’re sure she won’t be a charge on you?’

‘A charge on me! I should think not indeed! It will be the most delightful thing imaginable, to have her company, and to take her to see the sights! Do, pray, let me offer to send Martha!’

‘If you really wish to, of course – but I think it by far too good-natured of you, and I don’t care to see you imposed on in such a way.’

‘Well, what a thing to say!’ she exclaimed. ‘As though your mama would dream of doing so! I’ll write to her immediately. She saw Martha when we were at Fontley, so she will know that Lydia will be perfectly safe in her care.’

She was mistaken. The Dowager, replying with the utmost graciousness to her letter, could not reconcile it with her conscience to permit her young and inexperienced daughter to face the hazards of travel without male protection. Only a mother, she added, could enter into her sentiments, or appreciate how much it cost her to be obliged to deny her dearest child the offered treat.

‘Upon my word!’ exclaimed Adam, handed this missive to read. ‘Mama playing off her tricks! Depend upon it, this is nothing more nor less than a determination to keep Lydia dancing attendance on her. It is too bad! Now what’s to be done? Am I to go down to Bath to fetch her? Is that what you wish?’

‘Would you do so?’ Jenny asked diffidently.

‘Yes, I suppose so. What a bore! Very well, I’ll contrive to go somehow or other – though when I’m to find the time I don’t know! I’m to take my seat on Tuesday, and we seem to have a host of engagements besides. Don’t tell Mama I mean to fetch Lydia! No doubt it will be best to take her by surprise.’

In the event the Dowager was taken more by surprise than Adam had foreseen. Mr Chawleigh took a hand in the affair.

Mr Chawleigh, according the plan for Lydia’s entertainment his approval, had been following the progress of events with great interest. He saw nothing but what was praiseworthy in the Dowager’s scruples; and when what seemed to him a very easy way out of the difficulty presented itself he seized upon it, delighted to be given the chance of enacting Providence. Adam came home one afternoon to be confronted by a stricken bride, who raised apprehensive eyes to his face, and faltered: ‘Adam, I must tell you! I didn’t know – I never meant – I’m afraid you’ll be vexed, but indeed I couldn’t help it!’

He put up his brows enquiringly. ‘Shall I? Try me!’

‘It’s – it’s Papa!’ she blurted out. ‘He has gone to fetch Lydia from Bath!’ She saw the look of astonishment in his face, and hurried on: ‘He sent a note round to me by one of his clerks, just as he was leaving town, so I
couldn’t
stop him! It seems he has to go to Bristol on business, and he wrote to say you needn’t be in a worry how to find time to fetch Lydia, because he means to return by way of Bath, and will bring her up to town himself. He doesn’t understand – that is, he only wishes to be helpful, Adam!’

She ended on a note of entreaty, dreading his displeasure. There was a moment’s silence, while he struggled with his emotions. They were too strong: he gave a gasp, and burst into laughter.

She had only the dimmest perception of what made him laugh, for she was not quick to perceive the ridiculous, and she was not assailed, as he was, by a vision of Mr Chawleigh’s descent upon the house in Camden Place; but she was too thankful that he was amused rather than vexed to care for the cause of his mirth. She smiled doubtfully at him, and said: ‘It’s one of his surprises. I told you once how he loves to give one splendid surprises, didn’t I?’

‘You did, Jenny, you did! Oh, if only I were there to see it!’

She considered this, and said quite seriously: ‘Do you think her ladyship won’t let Lydia go with him?’

‘No, my love. From what I know of your father I confidently expect to see Lydia within the week!’ he replied, in a shaking voice.

Three evenings later, just as he was sticking a pin in the folds of his neckcloth, Adam was interrupted by sounds unmistakably betokening his sister’s arrival. A peal on the front-door bell, accompanied by the vigorous use of the knocker, was shortly followed by the scamper of footsteps on the stairs, and Lydia’s voice calling gleefully: ‘Adam! Jenny!’

He grinned, and went out on to the landing in his shirt-sleeves.

‘Oh, Adam, isn’t it famous? Here I am!’ cried Lydia, casting herself upon his chest. ‘Mr Chawleigh brought me – and in
such
style! Oh, Jenny, there you are! I do think your papa is the kindest person in the world! Mr Chawleigh, Mr Chawleigh, come up, pray! They are both here!’

Released from a hug that had irreparably damaged his freshly-tied neckcloth, Adam endorsed this invitation, saying, as he looked over the banisters: ‘Yes, do come up, sir! – if you have strength enough left after a day spent in this hoyden’s company! How do you do, sir? I am very much obliged to you!’

Mr Chawleigh, ponderously ascending the last flight, grasped Adam’s outstretched hand, and replied, his countenance wreathed in a broad smile: ‘Ay, I thought you would be! Well, Jenny-lass, I’ve brought her to you, all right and tight, you see, and no fear you’ll fall into the dismals with
her
about the house! I’ll be off now I’ve seen her safe in your hands.’

‘By all means – if you wish to offend us beyond forgiveness!’ said Adam. ‘Or do you imagine that Jenny holds household in such a nip-cheese way as to be put out by the arrival of a mere couple of unexpected guests? You should know her better!’

‘I
told
you so!’ interpolated Lydia triumphantly.

‘But you’ve company? Nay, I won’t stay!’ said Mr Chawleigh.

‘No, we haven’t, Papa: it’s only that we are going, later, to Lady Castlereagh’s assembly – and we need not, need we, Adam?’

‘We need, but not for a few hours yet. Come into my dressing-room, won’t you, sir, while I finish rigging myself out? Fetch up the sherry, Kinver!’

‘Nay, I can’t sit down to dinner with you in all my dirt!’

‘Well, that’s a pretty thing to say, when we had it fixed that you would take me to dine at an hotel, if we found no one at home here!’ interrupted Lydia indignantly. ‘You didn’t say you couldn’t sit down in all your dirt when it was only me!’

Delighted to be overborne, Mr Chawleigh went with Adam into his dressing-room, chuckling and shaking his head. ‘If ever I met such a saucy puss! Well, I don’t know when I’ve taken such a fancy to a girl, and that’s a fact!’

‘I’m glad. I’m rather partial to her myself, but I own I was afraid you might find her a trifle exhausting!’

‘It ’ud take more than Miss Lyddy to exhaust Jonathan Chawleigh. As good as ever twanged,
she
is. You wouldn’t credit how quickly the time passed! Ay, and a real pleasure it is to set her down to a nuncheon!
She’s
not one to ask for tea and toast when you’ve fairly bust yourself, ordering what you think she might fancy! Well, we stopped for a bite at the Peacock – and a set of robbers they may be, but I will say this for them: a very tolerable spread they had laid out for us, for I’d bespoken it beforehand, and a private parlour too, of course, which I told her la’ship I’d done, just to set her mind at ease. “No need to fear I’ll be letting Miss Lydia set foot inside a common coffee-room,” I said, “nor that any pert young jackanapes will come ogling her while Jonathan Chawleigh has her in charge. She’ll be taken care of as if she was my own daughter, and fairer than that I can’t say.” Which she was, as I hope I don’t need to tell you.’

‘No, indeed you don’t. Did you – did you find it hard to persuade my mother?’

‘Oh, no!’ replied Mr Chawleigh indulgently. ‘Mind you, that’s not to say she didn’t raise a lot of nidging objections: but that was no more than female fiddle-faddle – not meaning any disrespect towards her la’ship! – and soon settled. “Now, don’t you tease yourself over her being a trouble to me, ma’am,” I said, “because she won’t be; and as for her not being ready to go to London I’ll warrant she could be ready in five minutes if she chose. So I’ll take myself off to the Christopher, where I’m racking up,” I said, “and be back first thing in the morning to take Miss Lydia up.” So there was no more said, for she saw I wasn’t taking no for an answer.’

This account was later amplified by Lydia, who said that however ungenteel Mr Chawleigh might be he was, in her view, a splendid person. ‘Adam, he
rolled
Mama out like pastry! There was never anything like it! Though I must own that the lobsters helped.’

‘Lobsters?’ Adam interjected, fascinated.

‘Oh, he brought a couple of live ones from Bristol, and a jar of ginger, for a present to Mama! They were in a rush basket, and one of them kept trying to climb out. Well, you know what Mama is, Adam! She couldn’t take her eyes from it, which quite distracted her. And then Mr Chawleigh mended the handle on the drawing-room door. It has been most troublesome, but he said he could set it to rights in a trice, if we had a screwdriver. We hadn’t, of course – I think it’s a sort of chisel – but he said very likely we had something that would answer as well, and he went off to the kitchen to see what he could find there.’ She gave a gurgle of laughter. ‘If you could have seen Mama’s face! Particularly when he came back, and read her a scold about the damper in the stove. He said it was being quite wrongly used, and told her exactly how it should be. I was nearly in stitches, because poor Mama hadn’t the least notion what he was talking about! And this I
will
say: she behaved beautifully, and even invited him to stay to dine with us, which was truly noble of her! However, he wouldn’t do so, but said he hadn’t come to put her out, and anyway had bespoken his dinner at the Christopher. And though she said nothing would prevail upon her to let me go with him, she did let me, because she was persuaded she would have one of her worst spasms if she had to see him again!’

‘But what a scene!’ he said, awed by it. ‘And I wasn’t there! It’s too infamous!’

She chuckled. ‘Yes, but I daresay you might not have enjoyed it if you had been, on account of having more sensibility than I have, and not wishing Mama to take him in dislike. For my part, I like him, and I don’t give a straw for his being a funny one: in fact, we have become the greatest friends, and he is going to take me to the City, and show me all the chief places,
and
let me watch them mint the coins in the Tower, and
everything
!’

It was soon seen that she was making no idle boast. Not only did Mr Chawleigh redeem this promise, but he began to visit Lynton House more frequently, and always with some scheme for Lydia’s entertainment. It seemed to him a great piece of nonsense that she could not go with her brother and sister to parties, and he was much inclined to take Jenny to task for not presenting her at Court immediately.

‘Well, I wish I might,’ she replied, ‘but I haven’t Lady Lynton’s leave to do so, as I’ve told you a dozen times, Papa! You wouldn’t have me behave so improperly as to do it without her leave – now, you know you wouldn’t!’

‘If only I’d thought to speak to her la’ship about it!’ he said. ‘I don’t doubt I could have talked her over. And if I’d known Miss Lydia would be obliged to sit moping here while you and his lordship go gadding to all manner of grand parties – I’ll tell you what, puss! – you and me will drive into the City to see the illuminations, and have a bite of supper at the Piazza afterwards! That is, if his lordship’s agreeable!’

‘Of course he’ll be agreeable!’ declared Lydia, delighted with this scheme. ‘I should like it better than anything too!’

‘Yes, but only if Adam says you may go,’ Jenny said firmly, by no means sure that he would approve of his sister’s jauntering about the town with her parent.

When she broached the matter to him, however, he merely said: ‘How kind of your father! No, I’ve no objection – if he really wishes to take her, and won’t find it a bore.’

‘Oh, there’s no question of that!’ she replied. ‘He says it’s a pleasure to take her about, because she enjoys herself so much.’ She added reflectively: ‘She is just the sort of girl he would have liked for his daughter, I think. She has so much
zest
, besides being full of drollery!’

‘For my part, I think he is very well satisfied with his own daughter!’

‘I know he loves me dearly, but there’s no denying I’m often a sad disappointment to him. Well, it can’t be helped, but I do wish I was pretty, and spirited, and amusing!’

‘I don’t – if
spirited
means what I suspect it does. As for amusing, I think you
very
amusing, Jenny!’

‘That’s polite, but you mean you think me absurd: a very different thing!’ she retorted. ‘I daresay you won’t object either to my taking Lydia to Russell Square one day? She wants to see the Cossack, who stands outside Mr Lawrence’s house whenever the Tsar goes there to have his likeness taken! Did you ever? If it isn’t just like Papa to tell her that! Butterbank is friendly with Mr Lawrence’s man, you know, and so is able to warn Papa when the Tsar is expected. Myself, I don’t care a button for the Tsar – or for the King of Prussia, either; though he’s very handsome, I own, in spite of looking so melancholy. And I’m sure I don’t blame him for that,’ she added, ‘for the way he and the rest of them can’t stir a foot without having crowds gaping at them is enough to throw anyone into gloom!’

‘Don’t let Lydia tease you into going to Russell Square if you don’t care for it!’ he said. ‘She’ll see the foreigners at the Opera, after all.’

‘She won’t see the Cossack there. Come to think of it, she won’t see much of the Kings and Princes either, because our box is on the same side as the Royal box. Still, there will be plenty more to look at, I daresay.’

She spoke more prophetically than she knew: there was far more for Lydia to look at than anyone could have foreseen. Her view of the Regent, with the Tsar on one hand, the King of Prussia on the other, and a bevy of foreign notables grouped behind them, was restricted; but the Lyntons’ box was admirably situated for anyone desirous of seeing the Princess of Wales.

She had been excluded from participation in any of the Royal festivities; but she had her revenge on the Regent, sweeping into the box directly opposite his while ‘God Save the King’ was being sung. She was attired in black velvet, with a black wig on her head, supporting a diamond tiara, and she presented such a striking figure that she attracted the attention of nearly everyone but her Royal husband.

The anthem ended; and as the Grassini, whose rich contralto voice had led it, curtsied deeply to the Royal box, a storm of clapping broke out in the pit. It was directed pointedly at the Princess, but she took her seat without making any acknowledgement, only smiling wryly, and saying something to one of her suite.

The Regent, meanwhile, had been applauding the Grassini, but the prolonged clapping made him turn, and bow graciously – but whether he bowed to the audience or to his wife was a question hotly argued but never decided.

However it may have been, it seemed to Lydia a rare piece of good fortune that anything so startling should have happened at the very first public function she had attended; and it made her forget that the evening had begun none too comfortably.

Jenny had bought her a swansdown tippet for the occasion, and had persuaded her to wear the pearls Lady Nassington had declared to be too large for her own neck; but when Adam had seen his sister he had said quite sharply: ‘Where had you that necklace? Surely it is Jenny’s?’

‘Yes, she has lent it to me just for tonight. Isn’t it kind of her?’

His face had stiffened, but he said pleasantly: ‘Very kind, but I had rather you didn’t. It’s worth a king’s ransom, you know – and I’m certain Mama would say it was not the thing for a chit of your age!’

‘No, she wouldn’t! She says that pearls are the
only
jewels
chits
of my age
may wear! And I promise to take the greatest care –’

‘Haven’t you a necklace of your own?’ he interrupted.

‘Yes, but mere trumpery! If Jenny chooses to lend her pearls to me I don’t see why
you
should object!’ Lydia said indignantly.

Jenny laid a hand on her arm, saying in rather a tight voice: ‘Perhaps they are not quite the thing. Your own crystals will be better – they are very pretty, after all! Come upstairs quickly, and change the necklace before Brough arrives!
Please
, Lydia!’

Lydia was suddenly aware of tension, and glancing from Adam to Jenny saw that Jenny’s face was much flushed. Yielding to the tug at her wrist she went out of the room with her, but demanded as soon as the door was shut: ‘But – but
why
?’

Jenny shook her head, and hurried up the stairs. ‘I shouldn’t have – he is perfectly right: you are too young!’

‘But why should he be so vexed? It isn’t at all like him!’

Jenny took the pearls from her, and turned away to restore them to her jewel-casket. ‘He wasn’t vexed with you. Don’t heed it!’

‘Was he vexed with you, then? But what had you done, pray?’

‘It was only that he didn’t like to see you wearing my pearls. It was stupid of me! I forgot – it didn’t occur to me –’

She broke off, and forced up a smile. ‘Are you ready? Shall we go downstairs?’

‘Do you mean that he didn’t like me to wear pearls that aren’t my own?’ asked Lydia. ‘But I have often worn Charlotte’s trinkets!’

‘That’s different. Adam has scruples – I can’t explain! One should take care, if one is very wealthy, not to – not to obtrude it! Well, it was a downright vulgar thing to have done! I didn’t mean it so, but that’s what it was: tossing my pearls to you like that!’

‘It was excessively kind of you!’ said Lydia. ‘Sisterly! Like buying this tippet for me! I collect Adam would object to that too?’

‘Oh, don’t tell him!’ Jenny begged. ‘It’s only a trifle, after all, but – Hark! wasn’t that the knocker? We must go down. I told them to serve dinner as soon as Brough arrived, because it won’t do to be late at the Opera House.’