False Colours Part 18

Evelyn frowned at him, flus.h.i.+ng slightly. 'What the devil do you mean? She told me herself she had sold the brooch, and had had it copied!'

'Yes, that's what she told me. But she also told me that she had several times employed Ripple to sell trinkets for her, which I imagine you didn't know.'

'You may be very sure I didn't.'

'Well, the long and the short of it, Eve, is that Ripple never sold anything for her.

He gave her the price of that brooch and what he told her was a copy of it.'

Evelyn stiffened, his hand closing on the roll of bills so tightly that his knuckles whitened. His eyes blazed for an instant, then he lowered them to his clenched hand, and opened his fingers. 'Why didn't you give him this, then?'

Kit shrugged, half-smiling. 'You may be able to: I found I couldn't.'

'Kester, he had no right-! '

'No.'

'It is intolerable!' Evelyn said, in a suffocating voice. 'How much does Mama owe him?'

'I don't know. He wouldn't tell me.'

'He will tell me!'

'He won't, Eve. Or anyone. I think you had better hear what pa.s.sed between us.'

Evelyn nodded, his lips compressed. But when Kit reached the end of his unquestioned recital, the white, angry look had left his face, and although he still frowned there was a softer light in his eyes. He did not speak immediately, but a rather bitter smile curled his lips, and presently he said: 'My father left me one thing I forgot to mention last night-humiliation! I shan't be rid of that until I've repaid Ripple.'

'It isn't in your power to repay him, twin.'

'Not yet. But it will be-when I'm thirty, if not before. I must talk to him.'

'Of course-but he bade me tell you it was none of your business, since it all happened during my father's lifetime, when you couldn't have rescued Mama. And further,' Kit said, with a twinkle, 'that he didn't want to have you buzzing round him like a hornet.'

Evelyn laughed, but ruefully. 'No, no, how could he think I would?'

'Well, he knows you don't like him! What's more he told me that you hadn't been able to wind him up in all the years you'd been trying to do it, so that it wasn't likely I could!'

Evelyn pulled a grimace. ' Not so bacon-brained, after all. I suppose I have tried to draw wool, now and now. I don't dislike him precisely-or I shouldn't, if he didn't dangle after Mama, calling her his pretty, talking of his devotion, when even she knows how many mistresses he's had in keeping! But I never suspected him of this! I own, I thought it was all a hum: that he pretended to feel an unalterable attachment to Mama because to be her most favoured cicisbeo added to his consequence.'

'Yes, so did I,' Kit agreed. 'I think now, however, that he is devoted to her, in his way. Good-natured, too, and certainly generous-though he says himself that a few thousands here and there meant nothing to him.'

'I must see him!' Evelyn said, in a fretting tone. 'He has placed me under an obligation, and however much I-I hate it, I am very sensible of it, and must tell him so, and make it plain to him that I hold myself responsible, in my father's place, for Mama's debts.'

'You will do as you think right,' Kit said equably. 'We have also to consider, you, and Mama, and I, where you should go to until I am safely out of the country. You can't remain cooped up here, and while Lady Stavely is known to be at Ravenhurst you can't go to London, or to Brighton.'

'It's a pity I didn't break my neck instead of my shoulder. That would have solved all our problems,' remarked Evelyn. He turned his head to look at Kit, and added quickly: 'No, no, I don't mean that! Only funning, Kester!'

'Not one of your more diverting jokes, brother,' replied Kit. 'I mean it hasn't sent me into whoops, precisely!'

'I know, I know! don't rake me down!' Evelyn begged, in a penitent voice. 'The fact is, I'm blue-devilled!'

Kit nodded, but said: 'Very likely. Of course we're in the deuce of a hobble, but we shall bring ourselves off! When did we ever fail to?'

Evelyn smiled at him. 'True! Don't let us talk about my affairs: I'll retire to Leicesters.h.i.+re. Let's discuss yours instead! I suppose you can't immediately announce your engagement to Cressy, but I'm strongly of the opinion that you should see Stavely before you go back to Vienna, and get his consent. I've been considering that, and I think I should go with you to Mount Street.'

'I don't know that, but I agree that I must see Stavely as soon as may be possible.

But my affairs are simpler than yours, and don't call for discussion, Eve.'

'Mine are beyond discussion,' Evelyn answered. 'I've had plenty of time for thought, and I can see that my case is pretty hopeless. You said as much last night, didn't you?'

'I neither said it nor thought it.'

'Well, you said that my uncle will be opposed to my marriage to Patience Askham, and that is the same thing. I've tried to think he might not dislike it, but of course he will. How could I ask Patience to wait for six years? Even if I were sure that she loved me! I haven't-I haven't tried to fix her interest, and as things are-No, even if her father would permit me to declare myself, I mustn't do it.'

'If ever I knew such a fellow!' exclaimed Kit, in a rallying tone. 'Either you're in alt, or in flat despair!' He laid a hand on Evelyn's knee, and gripped it. 'You're not quite knocked up, you gudgeon! I shall try to see my uncle before I leave England, and though I don't yet know just what I shall tell him you may depend upon it that your part in my story will be positively saintly!'

'If you try to pitch it as rum as that, he'll smell out a hoax immediately!' Evelyn interrupted, laughing in spite of himself.

'Not at all! I fancy you sacrificed your own interests to further mine-and that he will believe. It won't do to say anything about Miss Askham, and I don't mean to. You will have to wait for a period, but not for very long, if you will but stop committing what he calls extravagant follies. Spend more of your time here, twin, and interest yourself in the estate! In fact, interest yourself to such a pitch that he'll be only too glad to relinquish his authority! Urge improvements, demand information-pester him! Add a melancholy air to your demeanour, as though you had suffered a disappointment, and ten to one he'll be so much concerned that he'll greet with relief your engagement to Miss Askham!'

He spoke with a gay confidence which amused Evelyn, and served, for the moment, to put up his spirits; but he was not himself convinced. He knew his uncle's inflexible nature too well to believe that he could be easily persuaded; nor was he able to entertain any hopes that he would look with favour upon Evelyn's marriage to one whom he would infallibly consider a n.o.body. Knowing his twin, he entertained almost as little hope that Evelyn would adhere for any length of time to the line of conduct he had suggested to him. His disposition was too impetuous, his spirits too volatile, to enable him to wait, enduring boredom and frustration with patience. He would fall into one of his fits of despair, and seek alleviation in sprees and revel-routs.

It was therefore in a mood of considerable anxiety that Kit at last left his twin, and walked slowly back to the house, cudgelling his brain to discover a way to overcome difficulties which bore all the appearance of being insuperable. He began to feel almost as depressed as Evelyn, and was not cheered by the intelligence, imparted to him by Norton, upon his entering the house, that Miss Stavely had driven out with the Dowager.

By way of solace, Norton offered him the newspapers, the post having come in some time previously.

It had brought no letters for Evelyn, but several for Lady Denville, and two franked by Lord Stavely, and addressed to his mother and his daughter.

Cressy was carrying her letter when she entered Lady Denville's drawing-room, and she said, as she shut the door: 'G.o.dmama, I have had such good news from Papa!

Albinia was brought to bed on Tuesday, and was delivered of a son! Papa is so delighted! He writes very briefly-just to tell me that it is a very fine child, and Albinia going on prosperously, in spite of a difficult labour.' She broke off suddenly perceiving that Lady Denville had been crying. She went swiftly forward, falling on her knees beside her ladys.h.i.+p's chair, and saying: 'What is it? Dearest, dearest G.o.dmama, what has happened?'

Lady Denville made a huge effort to pull herself together, responding, with a valiant smile: 'Why, nothing in the world, dear child! What was that you said? Your father has a son? Well, that is charming-at least, I suppose one must say it is, though for my part I consider he should have been content with his daughter, for it isn't as though he had no brothers to succeed him, and I cannot think that any son of Albinia Gillifoot's will be anything but an odious child!'

Cressy gave an involuntary giggle, but said: 'Never mind that! Only tell me what has happened to distress you, ma'am!' Her eyes fell upon a closely written sheet of paper, lying on the table at Lady Denville's elbow. 'You have received disturbing news, ma'am? I do most sincerely trust you-you haven't suffered a bereavement? One of your sisters, or your brothers?'

'Oh no, nothing of that nature!' Lady Denville a.s.sured her. 'Much, much worse! Of course, I should be excessively sorry to hear that any of them had died, but I shouldn't cry about it, because I hardly ever see any of them, and Baverstock and Amelia I positively dislike! To own the truth, it made me feel very low when I saw Evelyn this morning. Just when Kit had made me so happy, too! Dearest Cressy, indeed I am overjoyed! You are the very wife for my darling Kit, and so I've been thinking for the past sennight!'

Emerging from her ladys.h.i.+p's scented embrace, Cressy blushed, laughed, and said: 'Thank you, ma'am! I hope I may prove you right! I only know that he is the very husband for me! But why did it make you feel low to see Evelyn? Do you fear he may be worse injured than Kit thinks?'

'Oh no, I shouldn't think so! To be sure, he does look rather pulled, poor lamb, but that's nothing! Cressy, did Kit tell you about Miss Askham?'

'To be sure he did! I understand she is a very beautiful and-and sweet girl!'

'Well, she maybe,' said Lady Denville doubtfully. 'But her name is Patience!'

'How pretty!' said Cressy, in encouraging accents. 'Rather-rather Quakerish, and refres.h.i.+ngly unusual!'

'Do you think so?' Lady Denville grew still more doubtful. 'But I fear she is Quakerish, Cressy, and, try as I will, I cannot feel that she will suit Evelyn! You know, my love-and I can say this to you now, without any hiding of the truth!-the girls he has previously fallen in love with have all been very lively and das.h.i.+ng!'

Cressy smiled. 'But he has quite quickly fallen out of love with them,, hasn't he, ma'am? Perhaps-being so das.h.i.+ng himself?-a quiet, gentle girl will suit him much better. I believe it is often so.'

'Yes, that is what Kit says. Kit thinks that this time Evelyn has formed a lasting pa.s.sion, and of course Kit knows him as no one else does. But if he wanted a quiet girl I can't conceive why he couldn't have fallen in love with you, dearest! It seems so capricious of him! Not that I grudge you to Kit, for Evelyn is not my favourite son, whatever Kit may say. I love them both equally, and so he knows! The thing is that Evelyn is closer to me, because we have always lived together; but Kit is so much more dependable, and the greatest comfort to me! And I should think,' she added reflectively, 'that he will make a charming husband.'

'Yes, so do I,' agreed Cressy, her eyes warm with amus.e.m.e.nt. She clasped one of Lady Denville's hands, and ventured to say: 'I feel, too, that Miss Askham will make a charming wife.'

'No,' said her ladys.h.i.+p decidedly. 'Not charming, Cressy! A good wife, I dare say- in fact, I am sure of it, and it does make me feel very low, because she sounds to me to be such an insipid girl!'

Cressy patted her hand. 'Oh no, I am persuaded you won't think her so! I expect she is shy merely.'

Lady Denville looked at her in an awed way. 'Cressy, she has been reared on the strictest principles, and her mama is full of propriety, and Evelyn says that they are all of them truly good and saintly! Indeed, he described Patience to me as an angel! Well, dearest, I wouldn't for a moment deny that that is-is most admirable, but I find saintly persons excessively uncomfortable, and I cannot live with an angel!'

'But must you live with her, ma'am?'

'No, and I don't mean to. I told Evelyn so, when he offered for you, for it never answers! Only, when I began to think of living by myself-Cressy, do you think I could afford to do so? I should be obliged to buy a house, for I don't feel I could hire one; and I will not live in some dreadful, shabby-genteel quarter of the town, or miles and miles from anywhere, like Upper Grosvenor Place, where poor Augusta Sandhayes removed to when Sandhayes lost a great deal of money on 'Change and said they must hold household. And only think of the cost of the servants, and the carriages, and-and all the things I never have paid for!' Her eyes filled. 'And when I consider that I have never been able to keep out of debt when I didn't pay for such things, how could I possibly do so when I shall be obliged to?'

The question was unanswerable. Cressy sat back on her heels, a very thoughtful expression in her eyes, but she said nothing. The truth of Lady Denville's words had struck home. She had not previously considered the matter; but she was well enough acquainted with her ladys.h.i.+p to realize that the income necessary to maintain her in the style to which she was accustomed must be far in excess of even the most handsome jointure. She realized, too, having a great deal of commonsense, that it would be folly to suppose that she would reduce her expenditure: she was quite incapable of doing so.

As though she had read the thought in Cressy's mind, Lady Denville said: 'It is of no use to tell me I must practise economy, because I can't! Whenever I have tried to do so it has only led to much more expense. Denville's sister-a most disagreeable woman, my love, besides being a nipcheese, which is much worse than being extravagant, because it makes everyone uncomfortable, on account of not employing a second footman, and serving horrid dinners-was used to p.r.i.c.k at me, and instruct me in habits of economy, and I perceived then that I could never bring myself to practise such habits.

I must own I could only be thankful when she died, for she never met me but what she asked me how much my dress had cost, and then said that I could have had one made for less than half the price. I know I could, but nothing would induce me to. You see, Cressy, ever since my come-out, people have said I was the best-dressed woman in London, and whenever I have gone to a party they looked to see what I was wearing, and how my hair was dressed, and-and copied me. I've led fas.h.i.+on, and I still do, so I couldn't go to parties now, looking like a dowd! It is not that I am vain-at least, I don't think I am-but-well, I can't explain it to you! I dare say you might not understand- though you are always very well dressed yourself, dear one!'

'I do understand,' Cressy said. 'Yes, and I couldn't bear it if you were even the tiniest bit less-less exquisite, and nor could Evelyn and Kit! G.o.dmama, you mustn't set up your own establishment! Even if you could afford to do so, I am persuaded you wouldn't like it. Consider how much you would miss having a gentleman to-to manage for you, and escort you to parties!'

'Well, I shouldn't miss that,' said her ladys.h.i.+p candidly, 'because I should still have plenty of gentlemen to escort me!'

'Yes, but no host for your own parties!' Cressy pointed out.

'No,' Lady Denville agreed. 'That is the worst thing about being a widow. But in every other way it is most agreeable, I find. In fact, far more agreeable than being a wife! At least, it is for me, but not, of course, for you, dearest!' she hastened to add, with one of her lovely smiles. It faded; she looked stricken all at once, and older; and said: 'I was forgetting. You see, it is of no consequence.' Two large tears welled over her eyelids, and rolled unheeded down her cheeks. She said sadly: 'I have been such a bad mother, and I love them so very much!'

Cressy burst out laughing. 'G.o.dmama! Oh, I beg your pardon, but it is too absurd!

Why, they adore you.'

Lady Denville carefully wiped the tears away. 'I know they do, and I can't think why they should-though I don't think I have ruined Kit's life. But when I saw Evelyn today-then I knew what a detestable parent I am!'

'He never said so!'

'Oh no, poor darling! But he asked me to forgive him for-for having failed at such a crisis, and left me in the lurch, and it almost broke my heart, because if it weren't for my crus.h.i.+ng debts, he could marry Patience tomorrow. I begged him not to think of them, but although he laughed, and turned it off, he was obliged to own that he does think of them, and-and has no hope of being able to marry Patience for years and years-which is as good as to say Never! Because it would be folly to suppose that his Uncle Brumby will approve of such a match, you know. And then he tried to joke me, saying that it was not my fault at all, but his, for having made his father think him too volatile to be trusted to manage his affairs, and that was almost more than I could bear, Cressy! Only, when he saw how distressed I was, he rallied me, in his enchanting way, saying that we were both blue-devilled, and that things weren't so very bad, because even though it might not be in his power to discharge my debts at present, he knew he could compound with my creditors, or some such thing, and so there was nothing for me to worry about, or him either. I dare say you will think it very foolish of me to have believed he could do it, but-but when Evelyn sets out to coax me out of the hips, he is so very gay and persuasive that one cannot help feeling rea.s.sured! And I did feel that perhaps something could be done, if people knew they would be paid back as soon as Evelyn is thirty, and I was quite cheerful when I left him. And then the post came in, and-and brought me a shattering letter!' She ended on a sob and dabbed at her eyes again. 'Mr-well, never mind his name! You wouldn't know him, but he lent me rather a large sum of money some years ago, when I was quite at my wits' end. I truly believed I should be able to give it back to him at the next quarter, when my allowance was paid, but it turned out to be otherwise. Indeed, it was wholly impossible, as I was obliged to explain to him. But I did contrive to pay him the interest, and invited his daughter to one of my parties, besides taking her for two drives with me in the Park, and introducing her to hosts of people, so what more could I do? And now he has written me a long letter, saying that much as he sympathizes with me, he cannot afford to continue in this way, because he has had a great many expenses which have been a sad drain on his purse, and so he must, though with the utmost reluctance, beg me to refund the sum he lent me. And, which I find more upsetting than anything, and quite outweighs his civility, he didn't even get a frank for his letter, so that I have had to pay two s.h.i.+llings for it! At least, someone did, probably Norton, but it is the same thing-except that it will be poor Evelyn who will pay it in the end, when he pays all the household accounts.'

With only the faintest tremor in her voice, Cressy replied gravely: 'A-a want of delicacy in him, to be sure, ma'am!'

'Exactly so! And in general, you know, he is a very gentlemanlike person.' She sighed. 'I shall be obliged to repay him, but Evelyn is to know nothing about it. No, and not Kit either, mind that, Cressy! I trust you not to mention it to him!'

'Very well, ma'am, but-but can you repay the sum?' asked Cressy diffidently.

'Yes,' Lady Denville replied, 'All my debts- all of them!' She rose, and picked up the offending letter, and carried it to her tambour-topped writing-desk, and put it away in one of the drawers. She said, in a constricted tone: 'I have quite made up my mind to it. I ought to have done so when Denville died, but I could not bring myself to it. But now I can, and I will, because however bad a mother I have been there is nothing I wouldn't do for my beloved sons! Now, pray, Cressy, don't tell Kit that I cried a little!'

Cressy got up from her knees. 'I won't tell him anything you don't wish me to, G.o.dmama, but won't you tell me how you mean to pay your debts, and-and why it makes you so unhappy?'

'Well, to own the truth, dearest, it utterly sinks my spirits only to think of going to live abroad, with a sensible female companion-but I dare say I shall soon grow accustomed!' said her ladys.h.i.+p, gallantly smiling.

'Going to live abroad with a-But why?' demanded Cressy, in bewilderment.

'Henry will insist on it. I know he will! Once before, when the twins were babies, he and Louisa-his sister-persuaded Denville that that was the only thing to be done with me, because-Oh, there were so many reasons, but it is a long time ago now, and it never happened, because the continent became quite unsafe, on account of Napoleon, which is why I never could dislike him as much as others did! But now the war is over, and people who find themselves run off their legs, like poor Brummell, go and live at horridly cheap places, where there are no parties, or gaming, or races, or anybody one knows!'

Cressy said indignantly: 'Lord Brumby couldn't be so inhuman!'

'Yes, he could,' answered her ladys.h.i.+p. 'Either that, or the Dower House here-and very likely he won't even offer me the Dower House, because he will think it is situated too close to Brighton, or that he couldn't stop me going up to London, once my debts were paid.'

'Well, one thing is certain!' said Cressy, her eyes kindling. 'Neither Evelyn nor Kit would countenance such an arrangement!'

'No,' agreed her ladys.h.i.+p. 'Not if they know about it, and that is a very comforting thought! But I shall say that I would like to go abroad for a time, when Evelyn is married. And perhaps I shall be able to visit you and Kit, so it won't be so very bad!'

After a slight pause, Cressy said slowly: 'I think it would be very bad. Not at all the thing for you, G.o.dmama! You would find living with a respectable female a dead bore.'

'I know I shall,' sighed Lady Denville. 'And if it has to be my sister Harriet, it will be worse than a bore!'

'Oh no, that wouldn't do at all!' Cressy said decidedly. She glanced at her ladys.h.i.+p, and gave a little laugh. 'You mustn't live with any female, ma'am! Consider, you have been used always to live with a gentleman! I know myself that one can't easily accustom oneself to female companions.h.i.+p when that has been the case. That was why I was ready to accept Evelyn's offer, even though I didn't love him.'

'Yes, but-' Lady Denville broke off, an arrested expression on her face. Watching her, Cressy saw the mischievous look creep into her eyes. Suddenly she gave a tiny gurgle of laughter, and turned, and impulsively embraced Cressy. 'Dearest, you have put a-a notion into my head! It is too absurd, and I am not at all sure-or even if- Well, I must think! So go away now, dear child, and don't say a word to anyone about the talk we've had!'

'No, I won't, I promise you,' Cressy said. 'I am going to drive out with Grandmama for an hour. Papa's letter has wonderfully restored her! She is aux anges, and is even prepared to forgive Albinia for having married him. I am strongly of the opinion that now is the moment to tell her that Kit is Kit, and not Evelyn, and if she continues in this benign humour I mean to do it!'

19.

Sir Bonamy, waking from his afternoon nap, yawned, sighed, and refreshed himself with a pinch of snuff. He then picked up the Morning Post, which Norton, tiptoeing into the room, had laid on a table at his elbow, and cast a lackl.u.s.tre eye over its columns.

The only items of interest to him were contained on the page devoted to the activities of the ton; and, since London, in July, was almost deserted, these consisted mostly of such arid pieces of information as that Lady X, with her three daughters, was visiting Scarborough; or that the d.u.c.h.ess of B-was taking the waters at Tunbridge Wells.

Brighton news occupied most of the s.p.a.ce; and Sir Bonamy read, nostalgically, that His Royal Highness the Prince Regent had entertained a party of distinguished guests at the Pavilion, dinner, to which a select company had been invited, having been followed by a brilliant soiree, with music. Sir Bonamy could not have been said to have shared his royal crony's taste for music, but he would have enjoyed the dinner, to which he would most certainly have been bidden. Then he read that His Royal Highness the Duke of York was expected to arrive at the Pavilion at the end of the week; and this so painfully sharpened his nostalgia that he decided that the end of the week should also see the return of Sir Bonamy Ripple to the Pavilion.

He had responded without hesitation to Lady Denville's summons, flattered by it, and willing, in his good-natured way, to do her least bidding. He had looked forward to some agreeable tete-a-tetes with his hostess; he knew that her cook was second only to his own; and he vaguely supposed that the rest of the company would consist of congenial persons with whom he would be able to play whist for high stakes every evening. His devotion to her ladys.h.i.+p had become so much a habit that he would not have refused her invitation even if he had known that his fellow-guests would be unfas.h.i.+onable people with whom he had nothing in common; but he had been as much daunted as surprised when he discovered that one of the ton's most successful hostesses had invited to Ravenhurst such a small and dull collection of guests.

Sir Bonamy was no lover of the pastoral scene, in general confining his visits to the country to several weeks spent during the winter at various great houses, where he could be sure of meeting persons who were congenial to him, and of being amused by such diversions as exactly suited a grossly fat and elderly dandy of his sedentary disposition; and a very few days spent at Ravenhurst had been enough to set him hankering after the delights of Brighton. There had been few opportunities for elegant dalliance with Lady Denville; playing indifferent whist for chicken-stakes bored him; and the discovery that he had unwittingly stepped into a masquerade made him feel profoundly uneasy. There was no saying what devilry the Fancot twins might be engaged in, and to become involved in what bore all the appearance of a major scandal was a fate which he shuddered to contemplate.

He had laid aside the Morning Post, and was wondering what excuse he could offer Lady Denville for bringing his visit to an end, when the door was softly opened, and she peeped into the room.

As soon as she saw that he was awake, she smiled, and said: 'Ah, here you are! Dear Bonamy, do let us go for a stroll together! I don't believe I've had as much as five minutes alone with you since the day you arrived.'