Dair Devil (22 page)

Father Banks gave a shrug of a shoulder and stuck out his bottom lip.

“It’s up to your sister to say it or not. It hasn’t bothered you ‘til now, Lily, and it’s not like we hide it. And Jamie has always known who his father is and what he is. His lordship acknowledges him as his own. But we got quality at the table today. Your past and his and the boy’s parentage might not sit well with them…”

A small smile played about Lily Banks’s mouth, and Rory held her breath, wondering if this was the moment for revelation, and if so, would she be able to detect if the lovely Lily was still in love with Major Lord Fitzstuart. Indeed, if they still had a connection, other than being the parents of an illegitimate son.

But when Lily Banks went to speak, Grasby intervened, and Rory could have kicked him.

“Not our business, why her Grace of Kinross was here. If it’s all the same to you, we’ll just take it as read her Grace came to speak to your son Jamie.”

“If that is your wish,” Lily Banks said calmly and returned to eating the rest of the vegetables on her plate.

“Pardon my female curiosity,” Rory said into the heavy silence, Lily Banks’s unquestioning submission to her brother’s proclamation giving her voice an unintended edge, “but I have a great desire to know why the Duchess of Kinross came all the way from Westminster in the Roxtons’ magnificent carriage to give Jamie a gift. I presume today must be your son’s birthday, Mrs. Banks?”

Lily nodded. “Yes. It is. He is ten years old today.”

Rory glanced about the table, ignored her brother’s significant look, and said as she cut her slice of beef into small chewable bites, “What a pity his lordship could not be here to share the day with his son…”

“Rory!” Grasby hissed under his breath. “You’re playin’ with fire, and I don’t care for it.”

“That’s why the Duchess of Kin—
ross
came,” Mother Banks volunteered, when no one else would reply after Lord Grasby’s audible hiss. “She came with Jamie’s gift because his father couldn’t, and because her Grace is Lord Fitzstuart’s first cousin.”

“Now, mother, you’ve gone and said it, and Lord Grasby here didn’t want it to be said,” Father Banks said with a shake of his head, though he didn’t sound upset with her. “He possibly knows Lord Fitzstuart in his society. Still, I’m glad it’s out in the open where it should be. Jamie is my grandson and it matters not a drop to me he was born on the wrong side of the blanket. I don’t care who hears it or knows it! Not in this house. No offence, m’lord.”

“None taken,” Rory answered for her brother and rather too buoyantly for Grasby’s liking. She looked about the table at the Banks family and saw that their attention was focused on her brother, who was cutting into this third slice of beef as if he needed to exert full force to ensure his meal was indeed dead. “Please. Won’t one of you tell the rest of the story of the Duchess’s visit…?”

All were willing to comply, and Grandmother Banks said,

“A footman pulled down the steps for Jamie to climb up inside the carriage, and another footman stood to attention at the open door, nose in the air as he himself was a duke! Poor Jamie. He stood at the bottom of those steps peering up into the darkness as if it was a scaffold he was about to climb! But then her Grace appeared in the doorway. What a sight she was! A real beauty. And wearing such heavenly silks and sparkling jewels befitting her rank. Though she needed none of it to improve what God has blessed her with.”

“She was everything and more what you imagine in your dreams a duchess would look like,” Mother Banks interrupted, eyes wide and voice full of awe. “Her petticoats were a lovely shade of soft pink, all covered in silver embroidery and spangles. And there was so much yardage that her petticoats filled the opening of the carriage! And I saw her shoe, too. A pointed toe and matching pink satin and silver thread. She was so lovely, she put out a gloved hand to coax Jamie up inside—”

“And we got to admire her heavenly bos—”

“—welcoming smile,” Mother Banks interrupted her husband, giving him a swift dark look before again addressing Rory. “
Such
a beautiful lady. Of course my Lily is just as sweet-faced—”

“Oh, Mother!” Lily Banks laughed. “No one is as beautiful as the Duchess of Kinross. I’m sure Lord Grasby and Miss Talbot would agree heartily.”

“Yes. Yes. Her Grace is said to be quite breathtakingly lovely for a woman of her age,” Grasby muttered.

“And got the most admirable bosom I’ve yet set eyes on, too,” Father Banks stated with satisfaction, a wink at Charlie, Eddie and Arnie, all of whom grinned from ear to ear. But what he said next turned their smiles into looks of abject disgust. He nudged his wife and said crudely, with a chuckle, “Not quite up to your sizable magnificence when you were at the height of your wet nursing powers, m’dear, but mighty close! What? Am I to beg everyone’s pardon for sayin’ what was before m’eyes?” he complained when not only his wife scowled at him, but so did his mother and his daughter.

He threw up his hands, got to his feet on a grunt, and made a bow before resuming his seat. “Beggin’ your lordship and Miss Talbot’s pardon for being so blunt. But I ain’t use to speakin’ before refined company. What I should have said, to put it in words my female family members would approve of is this,” and he mimicked the awed wonder in his wife and mother’s voice when speaking of their noble visitor, “The Duchess was wearing the prettiest embroidered bodice. Covered in tiny bows it was. So low-cut it was, too. Showed off her ample bosom to perfection. Well, mother, is that better?”

The entire table erupted into laughter at his mimicry that it took several seconds for everyone to calm down. Father Banks looked to his guests who were not laughing, but politely smiling.

“No offence but we do like a good laugh over our beef…”

“Please, Mr. Banks. You are not required to apologize at your own table,” Rory replied. “We are
your
guests. Besides,” she added, unable to suppress a smile, “I am all for plain speaking, and so is my godmother, her Grace of Kinross. She will tell you so herself, she is not only famous for her beauty but for her—um—
décolletage
.”

There was a collective sense of revelation and awe that the pretty young lady with the pale hair and fine features was the goddaughter of such a divine personage as the Duchess of Kinross. It was as if the Duchess herself had come amongst them and all had slack jaws of wonderment. The only person not impressed was Grasby, whose ears had turned bright red at Mr. Banks’s speech. They grew hotter at his sister’s confidence, though he was not at all surprised by her naïve truthfulness.

“Why his father saw fit to gift a ten-year-old boy a microscope is beyond me,” Grandmother Banks stated to no one in particular, lifting a shoulder in dismay. “I thought his lordship might give him a pony of his own, or a cricket bat. That’s more in keeping with what a ten-year-old boy should have.”

“Granny, you know it is the perfect gift for Jamie,” Lily Banks said mildly. “You saw his look of delight when he came out of the carriage, carrying that mahogany box as if it contained the most precious object in the world! He couldn’t wait to go to the study, and he is still there with Mr. Humphrey. Both have forgotten that we are all here celebrating his birthday without him. But I do not wish to discourage his curiosity. Jamie wants to be a physician when he is grown,” she confided to Grasby and Rory, and scooped up her crying baby out of its basket and cuddled him.

“Well, that’s what he says today,” stuck in Mother Banks.

“How splendid!” Rory enthused. “Then a microscope is the perfect gift. No doubt he and Mr. Humphrey are at this precise minute peering down the lens at a magnified beetle’s wing, or at a flower petal. I’m sure he’ll soon move on to more interesting matter such as a flea’s leg and blood from a rat—Oh! Excuse me. That was not polite of me, was it?”

“My sister also has a keen interest in all things scientific,” Grasby explained, hoping to turn the conversation to a more general topic that was more in keeping with the dinner conversation he was used to. “Her principal interest is in plants—pineapples to be specific. Which is why we are here to see Mr. Humphrey… Do you—do any of you know anything about the pineapple…?”

“No, my lord. We don’t. But our lodger Mr. Humphrey I am sure will offer up an evening’s worth of discourse on the subject! And there’s nothin’ to forgive, Miss Talbot,” Father Banks stated as he scraped back his chair and stood. He pulled the napkin from the front of his waistcoat and dropped it on the table. “The conversations that go on at this table between my son-in-law, when he returns from one of his expeditions, and Mr. Humphrey, would turn your fair hair black, Miss Talbot. Full of rats, pestilence and pygmies! Still, got to be more civilized than hearin’ about amputations and savages runnin’ amok, which is what we get when Jamie’s father and his batman put in a rare appearance. Now, my three monkeys,” he said, rubbing his hands together as he addressed his grandsons, “if you have demolished all that is on your plates, I’d say it’s time for that game of cricket I promised. Eddie. Charlie. Arnie. Which of you three is batting first?” he asked, as his sons and nephew scrambled to their feet. “Perhaps his lordship would care to join us in the game?”

Lily Banks’s two eldest boys ran up to Grasby and stood by his chair. “Would you? Would you play cricket with us, sir? Would you?
Please
.”

“How can you refuse such eager little faces, Harvel?” Rory laughed at the resignation on her brother’s face and said confidentially to the two little boys, “My brother is very good with the bat. But don’t let him bowl. Put him in the outfield where he can take a catch.”

“Thank you very much!” Grasby declared, reluctantly putting aside his napkin. “I have been known to take a wicket or two.”

“Two. That’s all you’ve taken!”

“So much for a lazy day on the river,” Grasby grumbled with false resignation, but with a smile at the two little grubby faces eagerly peering up at him.

He shrugged out of his frock coat, Arnie Banks coming to his aid and laying the article over the back of Grasby’s vacated chair, but not before covetously eyeing the cut of the cloth, the worked metal buttons and the delicate silver thread embroidery on the upturned cuffs and pockets.

Grasby removed the lace ruffles at his wrists and proceeded to roll up his billowing sleeves to just below his elbows. “Thank you for a most splendid repast, Mrs. Banks,” he added with a short bow to Lily.

But when he straightened, Rory saw he was pale and she quickly grabbed her stick to stand, a natural response, but one that was not warranted when he turned and strode off in pursuit of Father Banks and his three sons. She soon realized the reason for her brother’s lack of color when she accepted a cup of tea from Mother Banks. Lily Banks had untied the front of her linen jacket and had put her son to her breast, the baby suckling contentedly. Rory smiled, given the earlier conversation she had had with her brother on this precise topic.

It was on the tip of her tongue to enquire about the baby when the cascade of lace at her left elbow was unceremoniously given a tug. She put her teacup on its saucer and turned to find six-year-old Bernard standing by her chair. He had not followed his brothers Clive and Oliver down to the lawn with the men, but stood staring at her. When Rory smiled, he pointed to the footstool and said bluntly,

“Your foot is crooked. What’s wrong with it?”

F
OURTEEN

‘B 
ERNARD
! H
USH
! That is not a question to ask our visitor.”

It was his mother and she was mortified.

“But her foot is all wrong, Mamma. Look!”

“Her name is Miss Talbot, and you are being discourteous. Please forgive him, Miss Talbot. He has always been the blunt one in the family, and the most inquisitive. He has to know about everything.”

“It’s perfectly all right, Mrs. Banks. When I was your age, Bernard, I would ask my grandfather so many questions he looked as if it was about to burst and his wig pop off his head.” She smiled when the little boy giggled. “I will answer your questions, if I am able.”

“Can you walk with your foot like that?”

“I walked here. In fact, I walked around those gardens on the other side of the wall, and then I walked up the path through the trees to your house,” she answered calmly as she brushed her petticoats over her ankles. “I use a walking stick. Here. Would you like to take a closer look?” She held out her stick to Bernard. “Do you see the pineapple carved into the handle?”

Bernard readily took the stick and peered at it as if it was the most fascinating object he had ever seen, from the intricately carved ivory handle that resembled a pineapple fruit, down the length of its polished mahogany stem, to the worn end. He asked curiously,

“Do you need this to walk always?”

“Not always, but it is better to have it as not, so I don’t trip and fall.”

“Can you hop?”

“On my left foot, yes.”

“Skip?”

“With great difficulty. ”

“Jump?”

“Up and down? Yes. But only if I am
very
excited.”

Bernard smiled, then asked, “What about run? Can you do that?”

“No.”

“Not even if a great big bear was chasing you?”

“No. Not even then. I would try, of course. But I’m afraid if a bear was chasing me it would catch me. Do you think if I asked it, it would dance with me?”

“Silly! Bears don’t dance; not unless they’re on a chain and been trained.”

“You’re right, of course.”

“A bear would eat you as soon as look at you!”

“Bernard! How awful of you to say so,” Lily Banks chastised.

“But true.” Rory smiled at the little boy. “Don’t worry. I will make certain to stay indoors if I hear there are any bears loose from Brookes’s Menagerie on the Tottenham Court Road.”

“Can you ride?”

“Yes. Riding makes it easier for me to get from place to place.”

“You have boots?”

“Yes. Special ones.”

“Can you get your foot fixed?”