Mrs. McVinnie's London Season (20 page)

And that would never
do. Don’t be a fool, Jeannie, she told herself as she looked up at
him. You only have to get through this evening and then you will be
home.

The door to the sitting
room opened. “I say, Sir William, what is going on?”

Grateful for an excuse
to move away from the captain, Jeannie looked toward the sitting
room door. The voice was familiar and sounded of moors and lochs.
Tears started in her eyes. “Oh, never tell me ….” she began,
and then looked at Captain Summers. “Captain, who—”

“
Larinda and I have been entertaining your company this hour
and more, Mrs. McVinnie,” the captain said, his voice calm again,
the flash in his green eyes restored. He managed a small chuckle.
“We can only make out one word in ten, but the fellow—and doesn’t
he look fine?—claims to be a close friend of your late husband’s,
and who am I to dispute him? Captain, I apologize for the
disturbance.”

“ ’
Tis nothing,” came the cheerful voice again. Jeannie put her
hand to her mouth, her eyes wide. “I’m used to Jeannie McVinnie and
her crotchety ways.”

Jeannie shoved her
packages at the captain and ran to the sitting-room entrance, just
as a soldier in the Dumfries Rifles uniform filled the doorway.
“Bartley!” she exclaimed, and hurled herself into his open
arms.

He grabbed her and
whirled her about. “The verra same, ye bonnie lassie,” he said when
he set her down again. He cupped her chin in his big hands and put
his face close to hers. “I’d have known that scolding tone
anywhere. Thank the Lord ye nae hae changed!”

“
God
help us,” said Captain Summers.

C
aptain Summers looked from one to the other. He walked
to the window and stared out, as if seeking inspiration from the
newly budding trees and afternoon sun. Jeannie watched him and felt
instantly sorry for her outburst. Poor man, you walk back and forth
from window to door as if you are still on your quarterdeck. Poor
man. She sighed.

Bartley MacGregor,
Captain Bartley MacGregor of the Dumfries Rifles, drew himself up
to his full height. “I trust that little Jean has not been sae
troublesome as I remember,” he asked, his tone brotherly, his eyes
twinkling.

“
Probably much worse,” said the captain slowly. “I believe I
will retire and extract my gray hairs in the peace and quiet of my
room.”

“
It’s
all in knowing how to handle her,” Bartley explained patiently, as
if he were speaking of a quarrelsome child. “I hae known the lassie
since, Lord love us, Jeannie my pet, has it been since I sat behind
ye in dame’s school?”

She nodded. “And you
cut off one of my braids!”

Larinda spoke from the
doorway. “Oh, surely not!”

MacGregor looked around
at her, his blue eyes large and innocent. “ ’Twas a dare,
lassie.”

“
No
more than she deserved, I am sure,” murmured Captain
Summers.

Jeannie decided to be
charitable and overlook the querulous tone of his voice. “And there
I sat, with one pigtail,” she said. “Have you no pity, sir?”

“
None
whatsoever,” he replied, but the lurk of good humor was coming back
into his voice. “Most of the men I command—even those impressed, my
dear—have only one pigtail. It is more than sufficient.”

With what she
considered remarkable forbearance, Jeannie held her tongue. She
turned back to Bartley MacGregor. “Bart, what brings you here? I
cannot flatter myself to imagine that you would come all this way
to London just to see me.”

“
Nae,
lassie, even though I appreciate your regard, however fleeting. I
shall speak the truth and shame the devil. We of the Sixteen and
Seventeenth are only just back from Canada, and I thought to stop
in Kirkcudbright.” He stared at her with that wide-eyed look that
brought back memories, and was making Larinda giggle. “And what
should I find but the knocker quite vanished from Galen McVinnie’s
door and the house entirely shut up. My heart fain to breaking, I
inquired at the greengrocers’, and he told me that Galen was
flaunting himself in Dumfries with the other lads of the
Rifles.”

Jeannie laughed out
loud. “And probably planning his trout campaign, I have no
doubt.”

“
Nae
doubt at all, Jeannie, my light,” said Bartley agreeably. “He told
me you had gone to London to help out.”

Captain Summers
muttered something that no one chose to examine closely, and
stalked back to the window.

“
And
we are on our way to Spain—this time all of us—so I thought I would
hurry ahead. I am staying at Burton’s in Oxford Street, where all
good officers go, I am told.” Bartley took Jeannie’s hand in his
and raised it to his lips. Larinda sighed and Jeannie barely
repressed a smile as Captain MacGregor kissed her fingers. “And
there I shall remain, for the space of only a day or two, until we
embark for Spain again.” He looked over at Captain Summers, his
voice oddly stern after the light banter. “And by God, sir, we will
go in the front door this time!”

Summers raised his
hand, as if giving an imaginary toast. “Victorious war,” he quoted,
a smile of his own playing about his lips. “ ‘Ocean’s of
gore.’ ”

Bartely nodded and
grinned. “ ‘Prizes galore. Beauty ashore.’ I’ll drink to that
any day. I hope to see ye comfortably in the harbor of Lisbon and
Oporto again, sir. Unlike some of my stamp, I like to know the navy
is hanging about.”

“
Good
of you, sir.”

Jeannie smiled. “You
already know how well I wish you.”

Bartley’s voice turned
serious again. “We Dumfries lads have never taken to piping
ourselves off a beach, Jean. I only wish that Tom were with us
yet.”

“
So do
I, Bart,” she replied, and busied herself with a minute examination
of the cuff of her sleeve.

The conversation
flagged at that point, until Captain Summers picked it up in one
deft swoop. “Now that you are here, you must take dinner with us
tomorrow night,” he said, smoothly stepping into the awkward space.
“Unfortunately we are otherwise engaged tonight. We will see you
tomorrow?”

“
You
will, Sir William,” Bartley said.

“
I’m
sure Lady Smeath will echo my—”

The only echo from Lady
Smeath was a shriek from upstairs.

Captain Summers set his
lips in a tight line again. “I think that my dear sister has
chanced upon Edward, her wandering nephew.”

‘‘
It
would seem that way,” Bartley said. He flashed a grin at Jeannie.
“A braw and bonnie lad, is young Edward. No skellum, he. We could
find a place for him in the Rifles, Captain, if he gets an itchy
foot.”

Captain Summers was
already across the room. He paused in the doorway, as if to speak,
but shook his head and hurried up the stairs.

‘‘
Oh,
dear, I am in such trouble,” Jeannie said with a frown on her
face.

“
Jeannie! Surely the captain will overlook one small boy’s
adventures.”

Jeannie unconsciously
assumed the captain’s quarterdeck pose and traveled to and from the
window. “It is more than that, much more. And I owe it all to my
own extravagant tongue, and ….”

She stopped. Larinda
was eyeing her from the doorway with an expression of ill-concealed
satisfaction. Her smirk deepened into a smile, which she bestowed
in equal proportions upon Jeannie and Captain MacGregor. Bartley
grinned back at her, tucked his cocked hat firmly under his arm,
and made for the door himself. He held out his hand to Larinda and
bowed over it.

“
Your
servant, Miss Summers,” he said, and swept his hat over his heart.
He winked at Jeannie. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Do try to stay out of
daunting splore, Jeannie McVinnie, joy of my life,” he said, and
then he was gone. They listened to him whistling his way down the
front steps.

Larinda waited until
the front door closed behind him. “I wonder that anyone can
understand him,” she said, just loud enough for Jeannie to
hear.

“
It’s
not so hard, Larinda,” Jeannie said in a voice equally quiet. “It
only wants a bit of effort to understand someone else. That is
all.”

Larinda was silent.
Jeannie went to the packages that the captain had dropped on the
sofa. She found the bottle of rosewater and handed it to Larinda.
’‘A going-away present from me,” she said, her voice clear and her
head high.

“
I do
not understand, Mrs. McVinnie,” Larinda said, her eyes wide with
surprise, that little half-smile lurking around her
mouth.

“
Let
us not waste each other’s time,” Jeannie said. “I know full well
that you have been actively campaigning among your friends for my
removal, and I can only anticipate the treat in store for me this
evening at the theater.”

The hard light left
Larinda’s eyes for a moment, but only a moment. She came closer to
Larinda. “Aunt Agatha and I—we had such great plans—and then Uncle
Summers brings up this, this absurd idea of a Scottish nanny for
me. How could I preserve any consequence at all, with a nobody—for
that is what you are—a nobody trailing me about.”

Jeannie took it without
flinching. “Perhaps your uncle cares enough about you to see that
you have a little badly needed guidance.”

“
My
uncle cares nothing for anyone,” she flung back at
Jeannie.

“
You
are wrong, but I shall not convince you,” Jeannie said, not raising
her voice. “You must see this for yourself someday.”

“
Larinda, go to your room at once,” said Captain Summers from
the doorway. His voice was deadly quiet and his eyes gleamed like
emerald chips.

Larinda faltered and
started for the door. She stopped short when she heard footsteps on
the stairs.

“
I
told you not to interfere, Agatha,” said the captain without
raising his voice or looking over his shoulder.

“
I
will spring to the defense of my niece,” said Lady Smeath, who
stormed into the room. “A fine lot of help you have been in the
raising of these orphaned children.”

“
Be
fair, Agatha, for once. Thanks to Napoleon, when has my life been
my own?” said the captain, following her into the room and shutting
the door behind him with a decisive click. “Let’s have it out, here
and now.”

Jeannie sat down in the
chair he indicated. Her heart was in her mouth and she wanted
nothing more than to leave the room, but she folded her hands
together and was silent.

Lady Smeath took
several agitated turns about the room and then she flung up her
hands. “For years and years I have been planning Larinda’s
come-out—with George’s entire approval, I might add, brother,” she
said, directing a look of venom at the captain. “It is a large
enterprise to find a husband.”

The captain went to
stand beside Jeannie’s chair, resting his hand along the back of
it. “And did you not think that Mrs. McVinnie might have some
skills along those lines that could be of some help?” he asked. “I
realize that my original Miss McVinnie would have fallen short
there, but what a happy chance that Mrs. McVinnie came along. I
think she could advise Larinda in the getting of a husband.” He
smiled at her. “She seems to have done tolerably well, if reports
serve.”

Lady Smeath’s face
turned an ugly shade of red. “You cannot compare the situation,
William, surely you cannot!” Her hands flailed about in the
intensity of her agitation. “A Scottish nobody married to a captain
in a provincial regiment? How dare you compare our
circumstances?”

Captain Summers gripped
both of his hands on the chair until the wood protested. “Cheeky of
me, isn’t it?” he agreed, the affability in his voice causing
prickles to traverse Jeannie’s spine. “I had thought men and women
to be much alike when they fall in love, no matter what their
station. But I bow to your better knowledge, Agatha.” He shrugged.
“To anyone’s better knowledge, for that matter.”

“
A
nobody and a nobody,” Larinda said, joining her aunt in battle.
“Uncle, you are absurd.”

Jeannie felt her face
go white. “He wasn’t a nobody,” she protested. “Don’t say that.
Pray don’t wound me that way.”

“
Go to
your room at once, Larinda,” the captain snapped, his face a study
in cold fury. “I won’t have you speaking such impertinence of the
dead.”

Larinda burst into
tears of rage. “And I won’t have this woman tagging me about. You
speak of impertinence. She is already the laugh of London for
speaking so unwisely to Mr. Brummell. Would you have her ruin me,
too?”

“
I
don’t think she could, Larinda. Go, now, or I shall happily forget
that I have a piece of paper telling me that I am both an officer
and a gentleman.”

Larinda sobbed and
marched to the door. Jeannie rose quickly from her chair and picked
up the package and the gloves Edward had purchased for her. She
held them out to Larinda, who snatched them from her.

“
Here
is the parcel from Amalie’s and these gloves are a gift from
Edward. I suspect he is a trifle indisposed, or he would give them
to you himself.”

“
Edward?” asked Larinda. “What on earth for?”

Jeannie opened the door
for her. “I cannot imagine really, except that he holds you in
regard, as a brother should.” She tried to touch Larinda’s
shoulder, but the girl moved away. “It may not be the high kick of
fashion to show fondness for someone as insignificant as a brother,
but quite frankly, he can be such an asset in learning how to get
along with opposite sex.”