Friday's Child (2 page)

She stole a look at him under her eyelashes. No, he was not as handsome as poor Wrotham, whose dark, stormy beauty troubled her dreams a little. Wrotham was a romantic figure, particularly when his black locks were dishevelled through his clutching them in despair. The Viscount’s fair curls were dishevelled too, but there was nothing romantic about this, since the disorder was the result of careful combing, and Miss Milborne had a strong suspicion that his passion for herself was not of such a violent nature as to induce him to interfere with his valet’s inspired handiwork. He was taller than Wrotham, rather loose-limbed, and inclined to be careless of his appearance. Not that this criticism could be levelled at him on this occasion, Miss Milborne was obliged to own. He had dressed himself with obvious care. Nothing could have been neater than the cravat he wore, nothing more rigorously starched than the high points of his shirt collar. The long-tailed coat of blue cloth, made for him by no less a personage than the great Stultz, set without a crease across his shoulders; his breeches were of the fashionable pale yellow; and his top boots were exquisitely polished. At the moment, as he paced about the room, his countenance was marred by something rather like a scowl, but his features were good, and if he lacked Wrotham’s romantic expression it was an undeniable fact that he could, when he liked, smile in a way that lent a good deal of sweetness to his wilful, obstinate mouth. He had deceptively angelic blue eyes, at odd variance with the indefinable air of rakishness that sat upon his person. As Miss Milborne watched him, they chanced to encounter hers. For a moment they stared belligerently, then his lordship’s good humour reasserted itself, and he grinned. “Oh, deuce take it, Bella, you know I’m head over ears in love with you!”

“No, I don’t,” said Miss Milborne, with unexpected frankness.

The Viscount’s jaw dropped. “But my dear girl—! No, really, now, Bella! Most devoted slave! Word of a gentleman, I am! Good God, haven’t I been dangling at your shoestrings ever since I first knew you?”

“No,” said Miss Milborne. The Viscount blinked at her.

“When you first knew me," said Miss Milborne, not rancorously, but as one stating a plain truth, “you said all girls were plaguey nuisances, and you called me Foxy, because you said I had foxy-coloured hair.”

“I did?” gasped his lordship, appalled at this heresy.

“Yes, you did, Sherry; and, what is more, you locked me in the gardener’s shed, and if it had not been for Cassy Bagshot I should have been left there all day!”

“No, no!” protested his lordship feebly. “Not all day!”

“Yes, I should, because you know very well you went off to shoot pigeons with one of your father’s fowling-pieces, and never gave me another thought!”

“Lord, if I hadn’t forgotten that!” exclaimed Sherry. “Blew the hat off old Grimsby’s head too! He was as mad as fire! Devilish bad-tempered fellow, Grimsby! Went straight off to tell my father. When I think of the floggings that old man got me— Yes, and now you’ve put me in mind of it, Bella, how the deuce should I be giving you a thought with Father leading me off by the ear, and making me too curst sore to think of anything? Be reasonable, my dear girl, be reasonable!”

“It doesn’t signify in the least,” responded Miss Milborne. “But when you say that you have been dangling at my shoestrings ever since you first saw me, it is the greatest untruth ever I heard!”

“At all events, I liked you better than any other girl I knew!” said the Viscount desperately.

Miss Milborne regarded him in a reminiscent way which he found singularly unnerving. “No, I don’t think you did,” she said at last. “In fact, if you had a preference, I think it was for Hero Wantage.”

"Hero?”
exclaimed the Viscount. “No, dash it all, Bella, I never thought of Hero in all my life. I swear I didn’t!”

“No, I know that,” said Miss Milborne impatiently, “but when we were children you did like her more than you liked me, or Cassy, or Eudora, or Sophy, because she used to fetch and carry for you, and pretend she didn’t mind when she got hurt by your horrid cricket balls. She was only a baby, or she would have seen what an odious boy you were. For you were, Sherry, you know you were!”

Roused, the Viscount said, with feeling: “I’ll swear I wasn’t half as odious as the Bagshot girls! Lord, Bella, do you remember the way that little cat, Sophy, used to run and tell tales about the rest of us to her mother?”

“Not about me,” said Miss Milborne coldly. “There was nothing to tell.” She perceived that her reminiscent mood had infected the Viscount, the gleam in his eye warning her that some quite undesirable recollections were stirring in his memory, and made haste to recall him to the present. “Not that it signifies, I’m sure. The truth is we should not suit, Sherry. Indeed, I am deeply sensible of the honour you have done me, but—”

“Never mind that flummery!” interrupted her suitor. “I don’t see why we shouldn’t deal extremely. Here’s me, madly in love with you, Bella—pining away, give you my word! No, really, my dear girl, I’m not bamming! When he measured me for this coat, Stultz found it out.”

“I fancy,” said Miss Milborne primly, “that it is the life you lead that is to blame for your being thin, my lord. I don’t flatter myself it can be put to my account.”

“Well, if that don’t beat all!” exclaimed his lordship indignantly. “I should like to know who’s been telling tales about me!”

“No one has been telling tales. I do not like to say it, but you must own that there is no secrecy about your conduct. And I must say, Sherry, I think if you really loved me as you say you do, you would take
some
pains to please me!”

“Take pains to please you! Take—No, by God, that’s too much, Bella! When I think of the way I’ve been dancing attendance on you, wasting my time at Almack’s night after night—”

“And leaving early to go to some horrid gaming hell,” interpolated Miss Milborne.

The Viscount had the grace to blush, but he regarded her with a kindling eye, and said grimly: “Pray what do you know of gaming hells, miss?”

“I am thankful to say I know nothing at all of them, except that you are for ever in one, which all the world knows. It grieves me excessively.”

“Oh, does it?” said his lordship, anything but gratified by this evidence of his adored’s solicitude.

“Yes,” said Miss Milborne. An agreeable vision of the Viscount’s being reclaimed from a life of vice by his love for a good woman presented itself to her. She raised her lovely eyes to his face, and said: “Perhaps I ought not to speak of it, but—but you have shown an unsteadiness of character, Sherry, a—a want of delicacy of principle which makes it impossible for me to accept of your offer. I do not desire to give you pain, but the company you keep, your extravagance, the wildness of your conduct, must preclude any female of sensibility from bestowing her hand upon you.”

“But, Bella!” protested his horrified lordship. “Good God, my dear girl,
that
will all be a thing of the past! I shall make a famous husband! I swear I shall! I never looked at another female—”

“Never looked at another female? Sherry, how can you? With my own eyes I saw you at Vauxhall with the most vulgar, hateful—”

“Not in the way of marriage, I mean!” said the Viscount hastily. “That was nothing—nothing in the world! If you hadn’t driven me to distraction—”

“Fiddle!” snapped Miss Milborne.

“But I tell you I love you madly—devotedly! My whole life will be blighted if you won’t marry me!”

“It won’t. You will merely go on making stupid bets, and racing, and gaming, and—”

“Well, you’re out there,” interrupted Sherry. “I shan’t be able to, because if I don’t get married I shall be all to pieces.”

This blunt admission had the effect of making Miss Milborne stiffen quite alarmingly. “Indeed!” she said. “Am I to understand, my lord, that you have offered for my hand as a means of extricating yourself from your debts?”

“No, no, of course I haven’t! If that had been my only reason I might have offered for a score of girls any time these past three years!” replied his lordship ingenuously. “Fact of the matter is, Bella, I’ve never been able to bring myself up to scratch before, though the lord knows I’ve tried! Never saw any female except you I could think of tying myself up to for life—I’ll take my oath I haven’t! Ask Gil! Ask Ferdy! Ask George! Ask anyone you like! They’ll all tell you it’s true.”

“I don’t desire to ask them. I dare say you would never have thought of offering for me either if your father had not left his fortune in that stupid way!”

“No, I dare say I shouldn’t,” agreed the Viscount. “At least, yes, I should! of course I should! But only consider, my dear girl! The whole fortune left in trust until I’m twenty-five, unless I marry before that date! You must see what a devil of a fix I’m in!”

“Certainly,” said Miss Milborne freezingly. “I cannot conceive why you do not immediately offer for one of the scores of females who would doubtless be glad to marry you!”

“But I don’t want to marry anyone but you!” declared her harassed suitor. “Couldn’t think of it! Damn it all, Isabella, I keep on telling you I love you!”

“Well, I do not return your love, my lord!” said Miss Milborne, much mortified. “I wonder you will not offer for Cassy instead, for I’m sure Mrs Bagshot has positively thrown her at your head any time these past six months! Or if you are so squeamish as to object to poor Cassy’s complexion, which I will own to be sadly freckled, I make no doubt Eudora would think herself honoured if you should throw your handkerchief in
her
direction! But as for me, my lord, though I’m sure I wish you very well, the thought of marriage with you has never entered my head, and I must tell you once more, and for the last time, that I cannot accept your obliging offer!”

“Isabella!” pronounced Lord Sheringham, in boding accents, “don’t try me too far! If you love Another—You know, Bella, if it’s Severn you mean to have, I can tell you now you won’t get him. You don’t know the Duchess! Can’t call his soul his own, poor old Severn, and she’ll never let him marry you, take my word for it!”

Miss Milborne rose from her chair abruptly. “I think you are the most odious, abominable creature in the world!” she said angrily. “I never—Oh, I wish you will go away!”

“If you send me away, I shall go straight to the devil!” threatened his lordship.

Miss Milborne tittered. “I dare say you will find yourself mightily at home, my lord!”

The Viscount ground his teeth. “You will be sorry for your cruelty, ma’am, when it is too late!”

“Really, my lord, if we are to talk of
play-acting
—!”

“Who’s talking of play-acting?” demanded the Viscount.

“You did.”

“Never talked of any such thing! You’re enough to drive a man out of his senses, Isabella!”

She shrugged and turned away from him. The Viscount, feeling that he had perhaps not shown that lover-like ardour which, he was persuaded, consumed him, took two strides towards her and tried to take her in his arms. He received a box on the ear which made his eyes water, and for an instant was in danger of forgetting that he was no longer a schoolboy confronting a tiresome little girl. Miss Milborne, reading retaliation in his face, strategically retired behind a small table, and said tragically: “Go!”

The Viscount regarded her with a measuring eye. “By God, if I could get my hands on you, Bella, I’d—” He broke off as his incensed gaze absorbed her undeniable beauty. His face softened. “No, I wouldn’t,” he said. “Wouldn’t hurt a hair of your head! Now, Bella, won’t you—”

“No!” almost shrieked Miss Milborne. “And I wish you will not call me Bella!”

“Oh, very well,
Isabella
, then!” said his lordship, willing to make concessions. “But won’t you—”

"No!”
reiterated Miss Milborne. “Go away! I hate you!”

“No, you don’t,” said his lordship. “At least, you never did, and damme if I can see why you should suddenly change your mind!”

“Yes, I do! You are a gamester, and a libertine, and a—"

“If you say another word, I
will
box your ears!” said the Viscount furiously. “Libertine be damned! You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Bella!”

Miss Milborne, aware of having been betrayed into unmaidenly behaviour, burst into tears. Before the greatly discomposed Viscount could take appropriate action the door opened and Mrs Milborne came into the room.

Mrs Milborne’s eye took in the situation at a glance, and she lost no time in hustling the discomfited young man out of the house. His protestations fell on inattentive ears. She said: “Yes, yes, Anthony, but you must go away, indeed you must! Isabella is not well enough to receive guests! I cannot imagine who can have let you into the house! It is most obliging in you to have called, and pray convey my respects to your dear Mama, but at this present we are not receiving visitors!”

She put his hat and his gloves into his hands and inexorably showed him out of the front door. By the time she had returned to the drawing room, Isabella had dried her eyes and recovered her composure. Her mother looked at her with raised brows. “Did he make you an offer, my love?”

“Yes, he did,” replied Isabella, sniffing into her handkerchief.

“Well, I see nothing to cry about in that,” said Mrs Milborne briskly. “You should bear in mind, my love, that the shedding of tears has the very disagreeable effect of reddening a female’s eyes. I suppose you refused him?”

Her daughter nodded, sniffing rather more convulsively. “Yes, of course I did, Mama. And I said I could never marry anyone with so little d-delicacy of principle, or—”

“Quite unnecessary,” said Mrs Milborne. “I wonder you should show so little delicacy yourself, Isabella, as to refer to those aspects of a gentleman’s life which no well-bred female should know anything about.”

“Well, but Mama, I don’t see how one is to help knowing about Sherry’s excesses, when all the town is talking of them!”

“Nonsense! In any event, there is not the least need for you to mention such matters. Not that I blame you for refusing Sherry. At least, I own that in some ways it would be an ideal match, for he is extremely wealthy, and we have always been particular friends of—But if Severn were to offer you, of course there could be no comparison between them!”