Joan Smith (9 page)

“That ring is not mine,” Nick said.

“You are Goderich’s heir,” Sir William pointed out. “Ownership is a mere formality now. He is in no shape to know what is going on, and would not object if he did.”

Nick frowned at this speech. “I am only his probable heir. His nephew, not his son. My uncle’s condition is not so bad as you seem to think, Willie. He improves every day. He might just surprise us and recover, take a young wife, and produce a son of his own.”

“Surely that is not likely!” Willie exclaimed.

“Not likely, but not entirely impossible either,” Nick said. “I notice a marked improvement in his condition since my return.”

“Well, by Jove,” Willie said, laughing. “That would be a facer. Mind you, it wouldn’t be the first time such a thing happened. You remember Cousin Orville Mersey? He married his young housekeeper when he was seventy-three, had a son and daughter, and diddled young Cousin Harry out of the lot.”

“Our housekeeper is safe,” Nick joked. “She is already married.”

“Aye, but I see you have unwisely brought in Mrs. Lipton,” Willie said, in the same jocular mood. “Now, there is
a
temptation for a lonely fellow like Goderich. I must go up and see for myself how he is coming along. Which room is he in?”

“The master bedchamber, of course,” Nick replied.

“I’ll go with you, Willie,” Jane offered.

“Going to try your hand with Uncle, are you?” Nick said, still in a bantering tone.

“You had best have Miss Aurelia show me the route instead,” Sir William suggested.

Both Jane and Nick were surprised when Aurelia fell in with this plan, as her aversion to the sickroom was well known by this time.

“Yes, I shall go with you, Willie,” she said. “I have been wanting to talk to you. Did you call on Marie and Horace before you left?”

They left, chatting like old friends. Nick looked surprised.

“Willie is a friend of the Huddlestons,” Jane explained. “He has known Aurelia for some months, as a friend of the family, you know.”

“I see,” Nick said. “Odd I did not run into him at the Huddlestons’, but very likely he has been out of town. Perhaps Aurelia will want to invite him to her New Year’s party.”

“Yes, I expect she would like that.” She would let Aurelia drop her fiancé the hint that Willie would spend the intervening week at Clareview as well.

As Sir William and Aurelia mounted the grand staircase, she said, “I shall just take you to the door, Willie. I don’t like visiting sick people. Do you think he might really get better and have a son?”

“Probably not. Would it bother you if he did? Nick is not penniless, you know. His own papa left him pretty well to grass.”

“Oh, Willie, you know it is not the money,” she said.

“The title, then?”

“I love Nick, with or without a title. He looked so handsome this morning in his scarlet jacket.” She gave a luxurious little sigh. “Still, it would be nice to be Lady Goderich. Mama and Papa were so excited when Nick offered for me. None of the others married into the nobility. Marie says it is all the crack to have a big old estate like this in the country. I had looked forward to having big family parties here, after I get the place fixed up, of course. Marie will be a great help in that respect. I quite blush to think of the family seeing all the tatty old carpets and dark pictures. Perhaps something can be done
in
the intervening week. I hope you will stay and help me, Willie. I know Nick will be busy about the estate. I want him to take care of all the little chores so that we can go to Paris for a nice long honeymoon. You will know what sort of things are in good taste.”

Sir William was overcome by the quantity of ammunition that had just come his way. Every word she uttered gave a prospect of throwing them together, and showed clearly that Nick was making a dreadful mistake in marrying the chit. Aunt Lizzie had told him Nick planned to settle down and take the reins of Clareview, yet Aurelia spoke of jaunting about Paris and London. And when they were here, she would have the house full of vulgar cits. To think of her yanking out the priceless carpets, which belonged in museums, and installing God only knew what, was enough to make him bilious. Whatever his faults, Sir William had good taste, and could not like to think of Clareview being desecrated.

“Everything in the house is in the best of taste, Aurelia,” he said.

“Oh yes. I was not criticizing, it is only that it has all become so old and dark-looking. Just look at these horrid paintings,” she said, pointing at a pair of portraits of a former Lord and Lady Goderich, said to have been painted in the seventeenth century by Van Dyck, that graced the walls of the staircase, nearly disappearing in shadows.

‘They are priceless Van Dycks!”

“Really? A pity they are so ugly.”

“Ugly? The models, perhaps, are not beautiful, but the rendering of them is exquisite.” He peered more closely, but unable to see details, he spoke of his knowledge of other Van Dycks. “Such a delicate use of coloring, and the poses so natural. He had abandoned his Rubenesque tricks by the time he was painting in England. See how Lady Goderich is casually plucking a rose from the bush. You must learn to appreciate fine things, my dear. But actually these particular paintings will not be part of Nick’s patrimony. They belong to Lady Elizabeth. Likely she will take them with her to the Dower House when you marry. You really ought to try to hang on to them. She might give them to some other relatives. They belong at Clareview.”

Aurelia listened to every word. She knew her faults, and wished to learn about her new home.

When they readied the top of the staircase she said, “That is old Goderich’s room on the right. Let me know how he is coming on. You don’t think he might marry and have a son?” she asked again.

“Look at it this way,
ma petite.
If he does, you will not have to live with the tatty old carpets and ugly Van Dycks.”

He strolled along to Lord Goderich’s room, where he found the old man standing at the window, enjoying a glass of ale.

“Merry Christmas!” Goderich hollered at him.

Goderich didn’t recognize him, but he was not entirely incoherent either. Physically he seemed to be in good enough shape. Most troublesome of all, he kept harping on women. A man didn’t need a brain to father a child.

“The house is crawling with beautiful women,” he said. “I don’t know where they came from. They come in all colors. Blondes, brunettes, redheads.” This was not incoherent rambling. Aurelia, Mrs. Lipton, and Jane were the ladies he meant. “I mean to have my valet get me into a jacket for this party Ronald is rigging up for New Year’s. The redhead tells me I must have a shave and a haircut.”

“There is life in the old boy yet, eh?”

“I fancy the redhead,” Goderich said, with a cagey grin. “I like a big woman. A good armful. I thought Ronald would have the wits to nab her, but he tells me he is to marry the blond wench. Ronald is back from the wars, you know. I helped to win it by raising donkeys. He came up to show me his uniform. The blond chit’s papa is a publican. Not the thing, really. I wish you would talk Ronnie out of it.”

Willie stayed long enough to have a glass of ale with the old man before returning belowstairs. Goderich’s mind was not perfect, but other than a few confusions, he understood how matters stood. He had
raised donkeys for Spain; that was not mere rambling, though he had never actually sent any to Wellington. He knew, at least, that Aurelia Townsend was not a suitable mistress for Clare-view.

The dinner bell summoned Sir William back downstairs. The table was trimmed with evergreen boughs and red bows, and laden with the traditional Christmas feast of roast beef, roasted crab, plum pudding, and mince pies. Wine flowed freely, putting everyone in a festive mood, yet there was an undercurrent of uneasiness at the table.

Aurelia was wondering what her family would think of her match if Nick was not to be Lord Goderich, and was not to own Clareview. It still rankled, too, that she could not be married at St. George’s in Hanover Square. Pelham noticed that Jane spent more of her time talking to Sir William than himself. Sir William watched them all like a spy, wondering how he might maneuver the unstable situation here to his advantage. He was not imagining that Nick was jealous of his
à suivie
flirtation with Jane. Nick’s dark eyes turned in their direction more often than chance would dictate. Nicholas was the most confused of all. Aurelia had suggested, before dinner, that they should make a long stay in Paris for their honeymoon. He kept telling himself that he was madly in love with her. His eyes told him that she was ravishingly beautiful; his body told him that he wanted her. Surely his great love affair was more than mere animal lust?

Certainly he had felt the bristling heat of jealousy when she went so happily upstairs with Willie. Yet he had experienced the same sensation when Willie was holding Jane’s hand. It was bad enough that Pelham was showing signs of infatuation for Jane. He was a fool, but a good-natured, well-to-do one at least. Willie was a scoundrel—the sort of scoundrel whom the ladies seemed to find irresistible. At least he would be leaving after dinner. He couldn’t do much mischief in a couple of hours.

While these thoughts whirled through his brain, the table talk continued apace. He shook himself to attention and listened to what. Aurelia was saying.

“Is that not wonderful news, Nick? Willie has agreed to stay for our New Year’s party. Marie will be surprised to find him here. She thinks he is
her
cicisbeo.”

Before he could reply, Lady Elizabeth said, “Do stay, Willie.” Even she was not immune to the scoundrel’s flashing eyes. “In fact, you must stay on for the wedding. You will be no end of help in all the little chores that pile up in arranging parties. I remember what an invaluable assistance you were for our May ball the second year Nick was gone. The orchestra, the wine, the decorations—we could not have done it without you.”

“You are too kind, Aunt Lizzie. I shall be happy to stay, if I can be of assistance.”

“Then it is settled,” Lizzie said, smiling graciously.

Lady Elizabeth was the mistress of the house. Nick could hardly object. He smiled and said halfheartedly, “That is good of you, Willie.”

Willie breathed a sigh of relief. There was no need to claim he felt ill, which would involve at least one day in bed. No need, either, to tell them his trunk was already unpacked. “I shall send my valet to Margaret’s place for the rest of my things. He came to help me dress for dinner.”

After dinner the ladies retired to the Gold Saloon. Lizzie said to Aurelia, “You must start thinking what you would like for a wedding gift, my dear. I want to give you and Nick something to remember me by.”

After a pause for consideration, Aurelia said, “Perhaps Nick would like the Van Dyck portraits on the staircase to stay at Clareview. I understand they belong to you. Since they are portraits of ancestors, you know, it would be nice to keep them here. But if you would prefer to take them with you to the Dower House, that is all right,” she added dutifully.

Lady Elizabeth felt a pang at that heartless mention of her removing to the Dower House. Clareview did not belong to Nick yet. She was Goderich’s sister and had every right to remain. The Van Dycks were a different matter entirely. She felt she ought to tell Aurelia they were only copies. It was not generally known that the originals had been lost a hundred years ago when a fire consumed the east wing of the house, and copies made at the time by a local artist.

“Oh, I don’t think you would want them,” she felt obliged to demur. “They are—”

“Oh, indeed I do appreciate fine things,” Aurelia assured her. “They are so lovely. Typical of Van Dyck’s English period, don’t you think? After he had got rid of Rubens’s influence. Very natural-looking, with that fine brushwork.”

Mrs. Lipton and Lady Elizabeth exchanged a frowning look. It seemed impossible to tell the chit that the paintings were only copies. It would make her look a fool.

“I shall be happy to give them to you,” Lizzie said. She would ask Nick about what present he would like. Naturally she would leave the copies of the Van Dycks at Clareview. She was not a savage, to be removing historical items from their home. Besides, she thought they were ugly.

“When do you think your family will be arriving for the New Year’s party, Aurelia?” Mrs. Lipton asked.

“I wrote to them yesterday. I expect Marie will send a special messenger with her answer. I may hear tomorrow.”

“I must have the guest rooms turned out,” Lizzie said.

The conversation turned to domestic matters and passed peacefully until the gentlemen joined them.

The remainder of the evening passed pleasantly. It was not until the next morning that the first cracks appeared on the smooth surface of relations at Clareview. Aurelia was unhappy to hear that Nicholas meant to spend the morning with his agent, Fogarty, riding over the estate to see various changes and improvements made during his absence. He didn’t tell her that he must spend the afternoon going over the accounts and discussing the running of Clareview.

“You and Jane can begin planning the New Year’s party,” he said, to placate the sulking Aurelia, before leaving. “Aunt Lizzie will have a list somewhere about the house. Jane will know if there are some younger people who should be added to it.”

Aurelia replied, “I had planned to go to the village this morning to buy a few things—for the party, you know. To smarten us up.”

“An excellent idea,”
Lizzie
said. “Emily and I will write the invitations, Nick. Youngsters like to be out and doing.”

“Very happy to help,” Mrs. Lipton agreed.

“In that case, I am sure Jane would like to accompany you to Amberley,” Nick said to Aurelia. In his innocence, he thought his fiancée wanted to buy ribbons or scent or some ladies’ trifles.

“Perhaps she should come with us,” she said. “Willie offered to go with me. It might look odd if the villagers saw me on the strut with a young man without a chaperon.”