The Miser's Sister (12 page)

“Oliver,” said Lady Pardoe, drying her tears, “the best is that of course you will inherit the title, though I expect your papa to become a baron as soon as the Whigs come to power.”

Meanwhile, Ruth had offered sincere congratulations to the new baronet, who kissed her soundly on each cheek. It was much easier than doing the same to Oliver, and, as he told her, much pleasanter.

Ruth exchanged hugs with Lady Pardoe and Rose, and with Letty for good measure. Oliver seized the opportunity of the general confusion to kiss and hug her himself. His first thought on hearing the news had been that as heir to a baronetcy he was several steps closer to being an eligible match for an earl’s daughter.

There was a knock on the door and Bartlett, restored to his usual solemnity, appeared with a bottle of champagne and six glasses.

“Permit me, Sir Edward,” he requested ponderously, “to offer the congratulations of the entire staff upon your elevation. It is very gratifying, sir, most gratifying I might say, to see a worthy gentleman and good master come by his reward. Begging your pardon, Sir Edward.”

“Thank you, Bartlett, thank you very much. I hope you will all drink my health in a glass of port.”

“Thank you, Sir Edward.” The butler bowed profoundly, poured the champagne and departed.

“I expect it raises his stature no end, to be employed by a baronet,” Oliver declared. “Father, will you not now purchase an estate in the country?”

“No, no, my boy. I am too old to learn to play the country squire. There is nothing to stop you, however, Oliver. I did not ‘lend’ the Regent so much that I cannot afford to indulge my family.”

“Indeed, Oliver,” said Rose, “I think it would be an excellent idea. You may blow up a hundred workshops in the country, and no one will even notice. Mama and I might sleep easy once more.”

“I shall consider it seriously, Father,” Oliver avowed, with a swift glance at Ruth that did not escape his mother’s eye. “Not too far from London, of course. I do not mean to abandon my present occupations, I should simply prefer to live amid trees and fields. Kew or Richmond, perhaps, or Hampstead. There is no hurry, however.”

He was thinking that though he might now aspire to Ruth’s hand he should certainly not declare himself before her uncle’s return. Her situation was so unsettled that he had no intention of pressing her until her affairs were in order.

But she had not mentioned the abominable Walter since her original refusal to flee to London, had not tried to bid him farewell when she changed her mind and left Cornwall.

Was it too much to hope that she had broken her engagement? He wished he dared ask.

There was her brother to be considered also. It seemed unlikely that he would give his blessing as it would mean losing control of her inheritance. Oliver realised that he was anticipating. Suppose Ruth did not wish to marry him?

His mother was speaking.

“We might all drive out some fine day,” she suggested, “and take a look at Hampstead and Kew. Whichever seems pleasantest in midwinter will certainly be delightful in summer.”

“I should enjoy that,” agreed Ruth eagerly. “London is very interesting, but when one has grown up in the country, one misses the wide spaces and the open sky.”

“Not I,” Letty objected. “I vow I should be happy never to set eyes on Bodmin Moor again. It is the dreariest place, no shops and no amusements. I am persuaded you would very soon miss London if you returned to Penderric, Ruth.”

“I expect you are right, my dear, though I daresay Richmond is not at all like the moors. Only think of the varied scenery we passed through when we came here. I should like to travel to every part of Britain, to see the mountains and lakes and forests, and to go down a coal mine and see Mr Trevithick’s pumping engine and Sir Humphrey Davy’s lamp.”

“I see you have infected our guest with your enthusiasms, Oliver,” said Sir Edward drily.

“One day I’ll take you,” promised Oliver, “and Rosie shall come with us to play propriety.”

“I will not!” declared Rose hurriedly. “You must find yourselves another chaperon. Wild horses would not drag me down a mine! Indeed, I have never felt any desire to go farther from home than Richmond Park, so Mama’s excursion will suit me very well. And if Oliver settles there I may even be prevailed upon to visit him.”

Chapter 11

Lady Pardoe’s outing was not destined to take place that winter. The very next day she came down with a putrid sore throat and retired miserably to bed.

The doctor pronounced miasmas from the river to be the cause, aided, he said severely, by excessive excitement. Sir Edward began to wonder whether they should not remove, if not so far as Hampstead, then at least to Holborn, away from the Thames’s noisome exhalations, which had never troubled him before.

Rose was forbidden to enter her mother’s room for fear of infection. Ruth, however, did not consider herself subject to such decrees.

“I have very often nursed Letty,” she pointed out, “and I am never ill myself. If Lady Pardoe will have me, I insist on nursing her. I am sadly in need of an occupation.”

Lady Pardoe was feeling too sick to argue, and gratefully accepted Ruth’s ministrations, while Rose took over the management of the household.

Ruth found that caring for her patient took most of her time, but she dined with the rest of the family and spent half an hour in the drawing room after dinner.

“You are a superb housewife,” she congratulated Rose on the second evening. “I quite thought that choosing pretty clothes and reading romantic novels were your only accomplishments.”

“Wretch! Mama made sure that my practical education was not neglected, though in general I rarely need to display my abilities. I am out of practice, and everything takes twice as long as it should.”

“The establishment runs perfectly smoothly, even with sickness in the house. I’m sure I cannot guess how you manage to direct so many servants. I should not know where to begin.”

“Everyone is too busy to do the things I want to do,” complained Letty. The charming effect of a new gown of pink taffeta was ruined by her sulky face. “It is too bad. I daresay Lady Pardoe is not half so ill as you pretend, Ruth. It is very selfish in you to leave me on my own so much.”

“Lady Pardoe is not at all well, Letty, and anything I can do to make her more comfortable is a small repayment for her hospitality. I must go back to her now. I promised I should not be away long.”

“You see, there you are running off to look after a stranger and leaving your own sister to fend for herself.”

Ruth cast a harried look of apology at Rose and left the room without attempting further remonstrances.

“My mother would not go on half so well without Ruth,” Rose said coaxingly. “We are all very grateful to her. Come, tell me about the book you are reading.”

“It is amazingly dull. I expect I shall not finish it. Rose, let’s go shopping tomorrow. I need a shawl and some new gloves.”

“I doubt I shall have time, Letty, but I will try.”

Oliver, following his father into the room, heard this last exchange and decided it was his duty to entertain Letty. That evening he taught her to play casino. She picked it up quickly and was lucky in her cards, winning from him a large pile of buttons scavenged from his mother’s workbox.

Her victory pleased her, and she behaved well enough for Oliver to offer to take her out the next day. Unfortunately the weather was atrocious, sleet and high winds making it out of the question to venture forth unnecessarily.

“You promised!” Letty whined at the breakfast table, but it was a token protest.

They decided to play backgammon. The luck was with Oliver this time. He kept rolling doubles, and however much he cheated in her favour, Letty only managed to win twice. When he reached the point where one more game with a sore loser would have made him scream, he took her to his laboratory.

He knew immediately that it was a mistake. Not only was she not interested, she did not wish to be reminded that she was residing in a family whose affluence proceeded from trade, a fact she had managed to suppress.

“I cannot think why you should imagine that I might desire to see such things,” she said crossly. “Ruth may pretend to be fascinated, but I shall not lower myself so. Pray take me back to the drawing room at once.”

“Willingly,” responded Oliver. “You may be sure I shall not again insult you with an invitation.” Looking on her as a selfish child, he was not hurt by her sneers, but his patience was at an end. He made no further attempts to entertain her, suddenly becoming very busy about his father’s business.

Fortunately for everyone’s tempers, a diversion occurred, in the shape of a visitor.

Ruth and Letty did not realise it, but until now their hostess had been very careful that they should not make any acquaintance of which their uncle might not approve. Even had she been in good health, however, she would have found it difficult to deal with the self-assured young Yorkshireman who now put in an appearance.

Mr Snaith was the son of a manufacturer in whose mills Sir Edward had a considerable investment. Word had reached the Pardoes that the workers in Mr Snaith senior’s employ, mostly women and children, as was usual, were subject to the most deplorable conditions. Sir Edward, though a man who knew the value of a sovereign, would gladly forgo a proportion of his profits to assure reasonable treatment for these unfortunates. He had recently written to demand an accounting, and young Mr Snaith had been sent south to refute the accusations as best he might.

Arriving on the Pardoes’ doorstep at seven o’clock one foggy evening, Mr Snaith assumed himself to be a welcome guest. After half an hour of his company, they were anxious to persuade him otherwise.

“I am sorry that my mother is ill,” said Rose in desperation. “I fear it will be impossible to entertain you as we would wish.”

“Pray offer Lady Pardoe assurances of my most sincere sympathy and desire for her rapid recuperation. I have always been given to understand that the climate of London is singularly insalubrious.”

“You are quite right, my dear fellow,” Oliver quickly agreed. “Especially for those who are unused to it. However, we have any number of excellent hotels in the neighbourhood. Visitors to the City often put up at the Peacock or the Blue Boar, and I have heard both highly recommended.”

“In our part of Yorkshire, the Cross Keys at Leeds is generally reckoned to be a superior hostelry.”

“Then, of course, there is the King’s Head, noted for the softness of its featherbeds, and the Royal Oak with its famous winecellar.”

“The Hare and Hounds at Sheffield is also much admired. Lady Laetitia, I daresay you have travelled a good deal?”

The thick-skinned Snaith was a young fellow of middle height, with a distinct tendency towards corpulence and aspirations to dandyism. The height of his collar, his grass-green coat and yellow pantaloons, completely cast Oliver’s black and white elegance in the shade, at least as far as Letty was concerned. All evening she drank in his words, until Rose and Oliver decided there must be something to be said for anyone who could so absorb her attention.

Mr Snaith stayed to dinner and settled himself comfortably at Letty’s side in the drawing room afterward. The tea tray came and went, and still he showed not signs of taking his leave.

“I’ll order the carriage for you,” offered Oliver hopefully.

Mr Snaith waved an airy hand and continued his conversation. “I’d better tell Mrs Larkin to prepare a bedchamber,” Rose whispered to her brother with a sigh of resignation.

On the morrow, it was plain that Mr Snaith considered himself fixed for the duration of his stay in London. Sir Edward being engaged elsewhere for the whole day, Rose had the brilliant notion of suggesting that Letty should show Mr Snaith the sights. She thought no harm could come of it with John Coachman and Cora in attendance.

Enchanted with the idea of being seen abroad with such a fine beau, Letty was all compliance.

“It is too kind of you, Lady Laetitia,” bowed Mr Snaith. “The presence of such a charming young lady must increase immeasurably the inevitable exaltation of one who beholds the wonders of the capital for the first time. I anticipate no ordinary measure of satisfaction from your unexpected participation in this excursion, Lady Laetitia.”

He reminded Ruth of Walter, except that he toadied instead of condescending, and she had no reason to suppose his intentions to be half so kindly.

Mr Snaith stayed a whole week, by the end of which even Letty’s infatuation was beginning to fade. His endless compliments were flattering but couched in such flowery language that it quite exhausted her to puzzle out his meaning. He had no better success with Sir Edward, who remained far from convinced that all was well in the Yorkshire mills. Oliver received instructions to pack his bag and accompany Mr Snaith on his return to the north. A personal inspection was indicated.

“I fear I shall not be back before you remove to your uncle’s house,” he told Ruth. “May I hope to call on you there?”

“Of course, Mr Pardoe, how can you doubt it? I shall never be able to express my gratitude to you for rescuing me from my horrid situation, and
...
”

“Say no more.” He pressed her hand. “Only pity me for being shut up in a chaise for three or, God forbid, four days with our new acquaintance. Goodbye, my dear.”

This farewell left the two with greatly differing feelings. Oliver was once again persuaded that gratitude was the most he could expect from Ruth. On the other hand, she felt for days the pressure of his fingers on hers and treasured his final words in her heart.

Chapter 12

One morning a few days after Oliver’s departure, Ruth and Sir Edward sat at breakfast in the morning room. The other ladies being late risers, Ruth had come to know her host well over the breakfast table, and though both missed Oliver’s cheerful presence, there was no lack of conversation.

Sir Edward was expatiating upon one of the reform bills now before Parliament, when footsteps and voices were heard in the hall, the door swung open, and in came a tall, thin gentleman. Sir Edward jumped to his feet, but before he could utter a word, his hand was being pumped vigorously and the visitor cried, “My dear Edward, congratulations, congratulations! I cannot sufficiently express my delight at the news. A baronetcy, no less! Magnificent! And where are my nieces, Sir Edward? You have them safe?”