Althea (15 page)

After a circuit of the Park Althea was content to return to
being a passenger, with only a small, but sincere, show of reluctance. “I could
continue for any length of time,” she said happily. She turned and addressed
Eustace sharply. “You may come out from your coat now. I have quite done for
today!”

Tracy gave a shout of laughter, to the consternation of his
bays. Eustace had to jump down and go quickly to their heads to quiet them,
while Althea and Tracy regained their countenances and Eustace some of his
dignity. The strain of conversation had vanished, and they could discuss any
number of unimportant topics, each seeking to avoid what most interested him.
As the conversation again came around to horses, Althea found herself with an
opportunity to discuss his behavior that morning.

“I greatly admired the horse I saw you on this morning, you
know. I thought it was you, in any case, but I could not be certain, since you
did not seem to recognize me.”

“I cannot think you could mistake me for anyone else with
this crop of mine, but I had no idea that we met — I assure you that I did not
mean to be rude. It must have been when I was on my way to or from Manton’s. I
was rather in a study, you know, and may have passed through the entire Park
without once seeing a tree in passing. If I cut you, please put it down to my
befogged mind and bad manners, not my intentions.” Althea emitted a sigh so
profound that it surprised her: she had not realized how much importance she
had placed upon his good will.

“I make no matter of it, sir,” she said lightly. “And I know
enough from Maria’s teaching to say that your manners are
never
bad. You
are odious, certainly, but that is required for the position of social arbiter,
I imagine. You see how I have benefited from my sister’s tutelage?”

“I cannot believe that it is all her doing.” He smiled.

“That is quite the nicest thing I have had said to me today.
Should my partners tonight prove less inspired, you will have delivered the
most memorable
mot
of the day!”

“You collect them?” he asked.

“Of course. Women do, although few are so honest as to say
so. Pretty words are counted up and written in diaries, or traded over teacups.
I have always thought it unfair to the competitors that they do not know they
are in a contest. But the compliments I have heard repeated over teacups would
astonish and bore you, sir. They do me, I know.” She laughed wryly, looking up
from under the rim of her bonnet, an effective but altogether unwitting
gesture. Tracy, himself laughing, was confronted by eyes teasing him, a full
mouth curved in a generous smile, the whole effect framed by the brim of her
bonnet. He drew a sharp breath and turned to look straight out at the road
ahead of them as he turned the horses toward Grosvenor Square.

“Althea,” he began. He stopped. There was a slight snort of
disgust from Eustace in the back.

“Yes?” She had no idea what had made him so suddenly
serious.

“I have been considering a great deal,” he began again. “No,
damn it, that’s not right. Devil take it. I wish you would come to think
of...no, that’s wrong too.
I
have come to...oh hell!” he said in
exasperation. “Will you marry me?”

There was a long silence in the phaeton. All of the
occupants had been struck momentarily dumb with surprise.

“Oh hell, will you marry me?” Althea repeated at length. She
began to giggle. “For a man famed for his address, Sir Tracy, you make an
abysmal offer. Oh lord!” She was overcome by it, unable to gasp out a few
jumbled words. In a moment she was joined by Tracy, then Eustace too. The
phaeton rolled sedately down the street, occupied by three apparent lunatics,
to the consternation of passersby.

At last, a little more rationally, Althea considered the
proposal. It was wholly absurd, of course, albeit very flattering. One person
at least had enough kindness to be concerned over her feelings, and that added
to the debt of gratitude she owed him. But she did not love him, and of course
he did not love her. She was not so far gone as to sell herself for an
establishment. Besides which, she reminded herself sternly, we should probably
kill each other within the week.

“I cannot wholly believe that you are serious, sir,” she
began slowly.

“That much, at least, is evident,” he said ruefully. “You
know that it is only to retrieve my honor, don’t you? One does not make a man
behave like a zany in his own curricle during the Promenade and then dare to
refuse to do the honorable thing. Will you consider the suit, Ally?”

Althea looked about her in confusion, unreasonably affected
by his use of her name. She could think of no reason why he had made the offer,
unless it was all of a piece with his concern over Pendarly’s defection. No,
that was too brown. And I will not say that he is doing me too much honor, she
thought furiously, for he would plague me with it no end. The curricle
continued to pass through the street, and in her attempt to look anywhere but
into the interested eyes of her companion, Althea saw another form with which
she was familiar: Edward Pendarly’s. He was strolling along beside a lady of
uncertain years and considerable girth, the woman described to Althea the night
before as Mrs. Fulvia Laverham.

Her hands tightened convulsively in her lap, and she found
it necessary to struggle to keep her teeth from locking as she replied to
Calendar’s flattering proposal.

“Yes, Sir Tracy, I will marry you,” she said flatly.

Calendar, who had seen, over her shoulder, exactly the
spectacle that had affected her so, replied lightly, “I am delighted.”

Within an hour of the event Sir Tracy Calendar had informed
his aunt of his engagement. They sat together in the sitting room of his aunt’s
apartments, Lady Boskingram listening while Sir Tracy related the precise and
peculiar circumstances that had induced Miss Ervine to answer him
affirmatively.

“But why you
will
offer for the girl if she’s got a
tendre
for someone else is what escapes me, Tracy. You don’t seem like a fool, though
God knows my own brats are foolish enough, and why should not some other branch
of the family carry some of the taint? I simply cannot see the necessity of
such hugger-mugger, let alone that it will prosper. Still, it is all very
amusing to hear you speak of it — poor Eustace, I hope you pay him well, for
that man has gone through fire for you.” She became serious. “You are sure it
is your feelings that are engaged? I shall want to meet her. . . .”

“Aunt, you have only to say the word and I will deliver her
up to you at once!”

“Bring her when you will, boy, when you will, so long as
I’ve a moment’s notice to brew up a pot of tea or some such thing. Bring her of
an afternoon, then disappear and watch the muslin set air themselves in the
Park.” Lady Boskingram gave a pronounced snuffle. “You’re probably the only
bright child among my relations of full age and more, but I forbid you to go
off marrying anyone until I have met her.”

“I would never conceive of doing otherwise. I will bring her
tomorrow then, if that is suitable, and if she is not already regretting her
hastiness.”

“Tomorrow, certainly, and I will put on my most formidable
purple and endeavor to look as fierce as I know how, and if I don’t scare her
into vapors, I shall think her much in the way to being a good sort of girl.”
She studied her nephew intently for a moment. “I hope to find her so, boy.”

“Rest assured you shall, ma’am. In fact, you will like her.”
The seriousness in his tone seemed to relieve her.

“Well, I suppose your famous good taste cannot have gone too
far astray.” She signaled in her peculiarly royal manner that the interview was
over and Tracy, trained in his aunt’s ways, took his leave.

o0o

Lady Bevan was apprised of the engagement the next day as
she lay abed watching Bailey parade a variety of morning dresses for her
selection. Althea knocked timidly on the door and entered, darting behind
Bailey’s substantial form and settling herself on the sofa next to Maria’s bed.
Maria made an exasperatingly long job of choosing her gown, then sent Bailey
off to search out the necessary accoutrements to the sprigged muslin with lilac
ribbon.

“There, I am ready for a coze. You look very serious for
such an hour of the day, Ally. How fatiguing. Oh, but I must tell you what Mr.
Wallingham said last night.…”

Maria was off, and Althea had a job to recall her sister’s
attention and, when she had done that, make her understand the seriousness of
her situation. This was all complicated by the fact that Althea had no idea,
once she
had
Maria’s attention, of how to inform her of the engagement.
Her explanation finally dwindled into a mutter of incoherent statements
regarding Calendar, Pendarly, her own resolve to be a “gentleman” come what
might. Maria finally gave up trying to elicit any sense from these ramblings
and sat bolt upright, demanding a simple explanation.

“Well,” Althea took a long breath and continued slowly,
“when I was out driving with Tracy Calendar yesterday he offered for me, and
the devil’s in it that I accepted him.”

Maria fell back into her pillows so far that when next she
spoke her words had the effect of coming disembodied from that pile of lace and
linen. When finally she surfaced, she gave her sister a look of mixed awe and
admiration.

“You have really accepted an offer from Calendar? Sister,
all the mamas in this mart have been trying to catch him these last ten years!
How did you manage it? You say he really accepted — I mean
you
did —
without any idiotishness about too much honor, or whatever else? Of course he
is far too smart for me, but I imagine you will suit nicely, and even if you
don’t, it makes no matter. And I thought it was that parsonical fellow with the
beautiful face you fancied. You are the slyest thing in the world. How Francis
will laugh when I tell —” Her face fell and her blue eyes began to fill with
tears.

“You’re not to tell
anyone
for the time, Mary, do you
understand? I told him I wish this to stay a secret for a time — to think about
it. I am not sure that Calendar didn’t offer for me out of pity — yes, there is
a reason why he might take it into his head to do so, though I think it very
nonsensical, to be sure. I will not plague you with the whole of it now. I have
had barely any sleep for thinking of this mess — dear heaven, how we laughed
when he offered for me. I am not even able to tell you what I saw acted at
Covent Garden last night, for I was in a fog then, too.”

“You laughed at Calendar’s proposal? Ally, I shudder to
think it. Oh, I don’t care for Sir Tracy much, I know — I suppose he doesn’t
care a rub for me, and I know I’m not clever enough to understand him,” Maria
said proudly. “But no matter, a man like Calendar doesn’t offer for a lady of
quality and then decide otherwise. And you did accept him? You’re sure?” A note
of trepidation came into Lady Bevan’s voice. “Only to think of having you so
remarkably settled, and in your first Season, too.”

“It were probably better if I had said something missish and
put him off — except then he would have laughed at me for it. But I’ve done
what I’ve done, and I shall play an honorable part in this if it means — oh,
anything!” Althea looked forlornly at her sister. “He’s not so impossible — I
suppose we could live very well together if I thought that we could keep from
tearing at each other’s throats for more than five minutes at a time.” A sigh.
“Please, Mary, let me beg you not to tell anyone of this yet. I am dreadfully
confused, and I don’t know yet what is the right thing — I only said I would
because I was so —”

To Maria’s surprise her sister crumpled to the arm of the
sofa and began to sob miserably. Maria, who had never seen her sister in such a
state, could only pat her shoulders and whisper vague, clucking sounds, better
calculated, one might think, to comfort a three-year-old than a lady of three
and twenty. But the treatment proved efficacious: within a moment or so Althea
sat aright, straightening and smoothing the folds of her gown.

“That is enough of my silliness for one day, at least. I
cannot think what has made me such a deplorable peagoose. I suppose it is that
I have had so little sleep. In any case, Calendar said he would call this
afternoon, so I shall learn then if he was jesting with me. See, here is Bailey
with your gown.”

With a shaky sort of composure Althea left the room, watched
by the bewildered Maria. What thoughts her sister might have entertained upon
leaving the room Maria could not know, but for herself within minutes of
Althea’s departure, she was planning the most splendid celebratory ball of the
Season, to be held at some unspecified time when Francis had returned to town.

o0o

When Sir Tracy arrived in Grosvenor Square that afternoon he
found his betrothed in a state of nervous anxiety, engaged in beading a
reticule in an appallingly ugly pattern. Althea had obviously been awaiting
him; Lady Bevan, although he had not seen her, was, he felt sure, waiting in
some hallway nearby. Althea rose as he came toward her, smiling tremulously,
with her hand outstretched. He returned the smile and took the cold hand
between his two warmer ones with a gesture that made Althea blush (to her fury)
and look away in confusion.

“I have no intention of biting you,” Sir Tracy said
conversationally. ‘You may relax.” Her breath came out in a gasp; her smile
became more natural.

“Well, thank heaven for that,” she said. “How are you
today?”

“Tolerable, thank you, ma’am, tolerable.” He looked down at
her from that disconcerting height. “What concerns me more at present is how
you feel today. Do you regret your words to me yesterday?”

“I have been asking myself the same of you: were you
regretting your offer.”