The Unknown Ajax (11 page)

“It must at all events be acknowledged that you have an amiable temper,” said Matthew, pushing back his chair. “You will excuse me, Elvira, if you please! I must go up to see how her ladyship does. She passed an indifferent night, and has the headache this morning.” Mrs. Darracott replied suitably, and Matthew left the room. He was shortly followed by Lord Darracott, who went away, commanding Hugo not to keep him waiting. Hugh, who had just received his third cup of tea from Mrs. Darracott, said that he would follow him when he had finished his breakfast, a reply which struck Claud as being so foolhardy that he was moved to utter an earnest warning. “Better go at once!” he said. “No sense in putting him in a bad skin, coz! Very likely to regret it!”

“Nay, what could he do to me?” said Hugo, dropping sugar into his cup. “That you will discover,” said Vincent dryly. “You will also discover the pains and penalties that attach to the position of heir.”

“Happen I’ve discovered a few already,” drawled Hugo. Claud coughed delicately. “Rather fancy you mean perhaps, coz!” “Ay, so I do!” agreed Hugo. “I’m much obliged to you.”

“The spectacle of Claud entering upon his new duties, though not unamusing, is not one which I can support at this hour of the day,” said Vincent. “Do you mind postponing any further tuition until I have withdrawn from the room?”

“Ah!” retorted Claud, with an odious smirk. “You’re piqued because m’grandfather didn’t ask you to hint Hugh into the proper mode!”

This quite failed to ruffle Vincent. “He did,” he answered. “I was persuaded, however, that it would prove to be a task beyond my poor power, and declined the office.” He saw that, while his target remained unmoved, Richmond was looking at him with a troubled frown between his eyes. He smiled slightly at the boy, and said, as he rose from the table: “What I am going to do is to teach Richmond how to point his leaders.”

Richmond had been shocked by Vincent’s conduct, but this was an invitation not to be resisted. His brow cleared; he jumped up, exclaiming: “No! Do you mean it? You’re not hoaxing me, are you?”

“No, but perhaps I should have said I mean to try to teach you.”

“Brute!” Richmond said, laughing. He thought he saw how to turn this cut to good account, and said ingenuously: “Vincent is always out of reason cross before breakfast, Cousin Hugo! Snaps all our noses off!”

“Well, if you ask me,” said Claud, as soon as the door was shut again, “he’s got a devilish nasty tongue in his head any hour of the day! Takes after the old gentleman.” He looked at his large cousin, and shook his head. “You may think it’s a fine thing to be the heir: got a strong notion m’father liked it pretty well, too. All I can say is, I’m dashed glad I’m not. Y’know, coz, if you’ve finished your tea, I’d as lief you went off to see what m’grandfather wants. There’s no saying but what he may blame me for it if you keep him waiting.” Thus adjured, Hugh went in search of Lord Darracott, and found him (after peeping into three empty saloons) seated at his desk in the library. There was a pen in his hand, but the ink had dried on it, and he was staring absently out of the bay window. He turned his head when he heard the door open, and said: “Oh, so here you are! Shut the door, and come over here! You can take that chair, if it will bear you!”

It cracked, but gave no sign of immediate collapse under Hugo’s weight, so he disposed himself comfortably in it, crossed one booted leg over the other, and awaited his grandfather’s pleasure with every outward semblance of placidity.

For several moments his lordship said nothing; but sat looking at him morosely. “You don’t favour your father!” he said at last.

“No,” agreed the Major.

“Well, I daresay you’re none the worse for that! You are his son: there’s no doubt about it!” He put down his pen, and pushed aside the papers on his desk, something in the gesture seeming to indicate that with them he was pushing aside his memories. “Got to make the best of it!” he said. “When I’m booked, you’ll step into my shoes. I don’t mean to wrap the matter up in clean linen, and I’ll tell you to your head that that’s not what I wanted, or ever dreamed would come to pass!”

“No,” said the Major again, sympathetically. “It’s been a facer to the both of us.” Lord Darracott stared at him. “A facer for me, but a honey-fall for you, young man!” The Major preserved a stolid silence.

“And don’t tell me you’d as lief not step into your uncle’s shoes!” said Lord Darracott. “You’ll find me a hard man to bridge, so cut no wheedles for my edification!” He paused, but the Major still had nothing to say. His lordship gave a short laugh. “If you thought you’d turn me up sweet by writing that flim-flam to Lissett you mistook your man! I detest maw-worms, and that’s what you sounded like to me! I do you the justice to say you haven’t the look of a maw-worm, so maybe it was your notion of civility. Let me have no more of it!” He waited again for any answer the Major might like to make, but, getting none, snapped: “Well, have you a tongue in your head?”

“I have,” responded Hugo, “but I was never one to give my head for washing.” “You’re not such a fool as you look,” commented his lordship. “Whether you’ve enough sense to learn what every other Darracott has known from the cradle we shall see. That’s why I sent for you.”

“It’s why I came, think on,” said Hugo reflectively. “My father being killed almost before I was out of long coats, there was no one to tell me anything about my family, and barring I’d a lord for grandfather I didn’t know anything.”

“You’re blaming me, are you? Very well! If I had known that there would ever have been the smallest need for you to know anything about me, or mine, I should have sent for you when your father died, and had you reared under my eye.”

“Happen my mother would have had something to say to that,” remarked Hugo. “There’s nothing to be gained by discussing the matter now. When your father married against my wish he cut himself off from his family. I don’t scruple to tell you, for you must be well aware of it, that in marrying a weaver’s daughter—however virtuous she may have been!—he did what he knew must ruin him with me!”

“Ay, they were pluck to the backbone, the pair of ’em,” nodded Hugo. “What with you on the one hand, and Granddad on t’other, they must have had good bottom, seemingly.” He smiled affably upon his lordship. “I never heard that they regretted it, though Granddad always held to it that no good would come of the match. Like to like and Nan to Nicholas was his motto.”

“Are you telling me, sir, that the fellow objected to his daughter’s marrying my son?” demanded Lord Darracott.

“Oh! he wasn’t at all suited with it!” replied Hugo. “Let alone my father was Quality-make, he was too much of a care-for-nobody for Granddad: caper-witted, he called him. Shutful with his brass, too, which used to put Granddad, by what I’m told, into a rare passion. But Granddad’s bark was worse than his bite, and he came round to the marriage in the end. It’s a pity you never met him: you’d have agreed together better nor you think.” Lord Darracott, almost stunned, sought in vain for words with which to dispel this illusion. Before he could find them, Hugo had added thoughtfully: “You put me in mind of him now-and-now, particularly when you start ringing a peal over someone. However, you didn’t send for me to talk about Granddad, so likely I’m wasting your time, sir.” “I wish to hear nothing about your granddad, as you call him, or your mother, or the life you led when you were a boy!” declared his lordship, his face still alarmingly suffused with colour. “Understand me, that period is never to be mentioned! I recommend you to put it out of your mind! It shouldn’t be difficult; you’ve been a serving officer for the past ten years, and must have other things to talk of. I collect that there are no longer any ties binding you to Yorkshire, and that circumstance I cannot but regard as fortunate. I’ll be plain with you: since I can’t keep you from succeeding me I mean to see you licked into shape before I stick my spoon in the wall.”

“Nay, we can’t tell but what I’ll break my neck over a rasper, or go off in the smallpox,” interposed Hugo, in a heartening tone.

“Where the devil did you learn to hunt?” exclaimed his lordship. “In Portugal.”

“Oh!” His lordship sat for a minute or two digesting this. “Well, that’s more than I hoped for!” he said presently. “You’ll be able to hunt from here: it’s humbug country, but you’ll see plenty of sport. I used to hunt in the shires, but I’m getting too old for it now. Sold my lodge in Leicestershire some years ago. Just as well I did! I should have had that nick-or-nothing boy of mine coming to grief over those fences, sure as a gun!”

“I’ve a fancy to hunt in the shires myself,” confessed Hugo. “In fact—” “Oh, you have, have you? Then you’d best rid yourself of it!” interrupted his lordship sardonically. “Behave yourself, and I’ll make you a respectable allowance, but it won’t run to the Quorn or the Pytchley, so don’t think it!”

“Nay, I wasn’t thinking it!” replied Hugo, looking a little startled. “Nor of your making me an allowance neither, sir. I’m much obliged to you, but I don’t want that: I’ve plenty of brass.” Lord Darracott was amused. “Ay, your pockets are well-lined because you’ve just had the prize-money for the Peninsula and Waterloo paid to you. I know all about that, and no doubt it seems a fortune to you. You’ll change your ideas a little when you’ve learnt the ways of my world.”

“My grandfather left me some brass too,” said Hugo diffidently.

“What you choose to do with your grandfather’s savings is no concern of mine: spend them as you wish! For your support, you’ll look to me—and you’ll be glad enough to do so before you’re much older! You are going to live in a different style to any you’ve been accustomed to, and you wouldn’t find yourself able to strike a balance on a weaver’s savings, however thrifty he may have been. Let me hear no more on that subject!”

“No,” said Hugo meekly.

“Well, that brings me to what I have to say to you,” said his lordship. “You’re my heir, and you’ve all to learn, and I choose that you shall learn it under my roof. For the present you’ll remain here—at all events until you’ve lost that damned north-country accent! Later I’ll let your uncle introduce you into Society, but the time for that’s not yet. This is your home, and here you’ll stay. Which reminds me that you must sell out, if you haven’t already done so.” “I have,” said Hugo.

The craggy brows drew together. “Taking a lot for granted, weren’t you?” “Well,” Hugo drawled, “there was a lot I could take for granted, sir.” “What if I hadn’t chosen to acknowledge you?”

“Nay, I hadn’t thought of that,” confessed Hugo.

“Don’t be too pot-sure!” said his lordship, by no means pleased. “I could still send you packing! And make no mistake about it: if I find you intolerable I’ll do it!” A flicker of relief shone for an instant in the Major’s eyes, but he said nothing. “However, you’re better than I expected,” said his lordship, mollified by this docility. “I daresay something can be made of you. Watch your cousins, and take your tone from them! I don’t mean Claud—though no one would ever mistake him for other than a gentleman, mooncalf though he is!—but the other three. Vincent’s an idle, extravagant dog, but his ton is excellent—what they call nowadays top-of-the-trees! You may take him for your model—and I’ll see to it you don’t copy his extravagance! No use looking to him to set you right when you make mistakes, however: he won’t do it, because he’s as sulky as a bear over the whole business. I could force him to take you in hand, but I shan’t. I don’t want the pair of you coming to cuffs. That’s why I’ve told Claud to give you a new touch. Between ’em, he and Anthea can teach you pretty well all you need to know. She was born and bred here, knows all the ways of the place, all our history, every inch of my land! Not married, are you?” “Married!” ejaculated Hugo, taken-aback. “Lord, no, sir!”

“No, I didn’t think you could be,” said his lordship. “I recommend you get on terms with your cousin Anthea. She doesn’t want for sense, and she’s a spirited, lively girl, and would make you an excellent wife, if she took a fancy to you. I shall say no more on that head at present, however. Time enough to be looking to the future when you’re better acquainted. What you can do at the moment is to go over the house with her: get her to tell you about the family! Ring the bell!”

The Major rose, and obeyed this peremptory behest. He also mopped his brow. “I’m going to send for her,” said his lordship. “She can take you up to the picture-gallery for a start.”

The Major, showing alarm for the first time, tried to protest, but was cut short. “Ay, I know that throws you into a stew! You haven’t been the way of doing the pretty, and you’re as shy as be-damned: you needn’t tell me! You’ll have to get the better of that, and you may as well begin at once. Chollacombe, desire Miss Darracott to come to me here immediately!” The Major, attempting no further remonstrance, ran a finger inside a neckcloth grown suddenly too tight, and awaited in considerable trepidation the arrival of his cousin Anthea.

Chapter 6

It was some little time before Anthea obeyed the summons to the library, but Lord Darracott, contrary to the Major’s expectation, showed no sign of putting himself in a passion. He occupied himself with giving his grandson a few hints on the best ways of fixing his interest with females in general and his cousin in particular; and when Anthea did at last enter the room, greeted her quite genially, saying: “Ah, here you are, my dear! Where the devil have you been hiding yourself?”

She put up her brows. “I have merely been with my mother, sir. We are rather busy this morning.” “Well, never mind that!” said his lordship. “I want you to show your cousin round the house. Tell him its history! He don’t know anything about the family, and that won’t do. You can take him up to the picture-gallery, and let him see a few of his ancestors.”