Red Rowan Berry, page 9
"All the same, the Mamas might have their doubts but with such a catch as that ... "
"Everyone had their doubts, and of course Gerard made it his business to spread the rumour that he ill-used her. But I happen to know ... "
"My dear you always do ... it is a constant source of entertainment to me ... "
"I happen to know there was very little in it."
"How little?"
Hannah shrugged.
"They were an ill-assorted couple. She was wilful and spoiled. It was as much her fault as his, I imagine."
"Very likely," agreed her ladyship. "I knew her mother."
"I also know," Hannah went on, "that he has made a number, of applications in various quarters and none of them has been 'successful. Unless he has been accepted since last April he must be fairly anxious to find a bride."
Hannah looked triumphantly at her mother-in-law.
"Janet is beautiful, fairly presentable and, what will signify much more to Staindrop, as healthy as she can stare. He wants an heir and he wants one soon. John can dower her, I suppose. What more could he ask?"
"What more indeed?" agreed Lady Angela. "However, I can see one possible halt to your scheme."
"What is that?"
"Janet herself. She's no meek little well-bred mouse to say 'yes Mama' and 'no Mama'. That's a: girl of character."
"She is also no fool," returned Hannah. "What inexperienced girl' with a modicum of commonsense would refuse even to consider such a prospect?"
CHAPTER 5
THE MONTHS WHICH had passed since Janet arrived in Glasgow had been eventful and the campaign to marry Janet to Staindrop had been skilfully waged from the start. It had begun with the dinner party contrived by Hannah. Laidlaw had brought his guest to Lady Angela's house and he had been, even then, an object of considerable curiosity. Aramintha perched high and disposedly on the window seat of the small front parlour had peered down at the terrace. Laidlaw rarely employed cabs and he had not done so on this occasion, somewhat to his guest's discomfort on this particularly fine autumn evening; he and Staindrop had walked from the Yard and were thus in Aramintha's field of observation for some time.
"He's tall," she reported, "nearly as tall as your' father, Janet,... and his coat has a vast fur collar."
This was true: it also had a fur lining. Lord Staindrop, whose first visit to Scotland this was, shared the current English belief that Scotland was sub-arctic, barren, mountainous and inhabited by whisky-drinking industrial trolls or by red-legged savages in multi-coloured skirt's. His baggage included a great deal of warm clothing. As a result, after a three-mile walk in the Indian summer evening he was a trifle heated.
"I think his hair is fair," said Aramintha, "but I can't see properly for his hat. But his whiskers are fair. He's got the most lovely whiskers. He'd be quite handsome really if his face weren't so red."
In this she was perfectly correct. When, some little time later, they came into the drawing room to make their curtsies to the guest this high colour had subsided and PhiIip, fifth Lord Staindrop, could be seen to be handsome enough in a rather florid way. His eyes were a very pale blue and a little protuberant, recalling for those who enjoyed gossip the unsubstantiated rumour about the second Lady Staindrop and the then Prince of Wales. He had a very fair skin which readily advertised both his state of mind and his physical well-being. His nickname at Harrow had been 'Peony' Prickett. Under the truly luxuriant whiskers and moustache there was hidden a full, rather sulky mouth: his hair was fair but not quite so luxuriant. The artifices of his valet concealed, or partially concealed, a certain thinning. He suffered the introductions in gentlemanly fashion, smirking, bowing and murmuring, "Charmed", "Happy", and other similar phrases. Hannah, who had a sense of theatre which in other times might have earned her fame as an impresario, had delayed Janet's arrival on the scene by a spurious errand to fetch a handkerchief. Thus, she came in when the company were already seated and Hannah noted with pride the result of a week of shopping and fitting: it was all she had hoped and more.·Janet looked spectacularly beautiful; her dress was of a grey-blue silk and fitted her to perfection, displaying her firm and slender waist. Her hair had been arranged by Lady Angela's own maid, who, weary of making much of little, had welcomed the task of making the most of Janet's great cloud of thick dark hair. Hannah noted that she was not wearing the garnet set she had offered to lend for the occasion but only the old fashioned silver locket which had once belonged to Elspeth. When she came in and made her curtsey the men came to their feet with alacrity. Laidlaw came forward and presented her to Staindrop.
"My daughter, Janet," he said and there was an unmistakable note of pride in his voice.
Staindrop bowed, stared and murmured 'by jove' under his breath. Janet was not conscious of his obvious admiration, so pleased was she to hear this pride in her father's voice. Laidlaw in his dry dutiful way had always been a good father, even at a distance. He had appreciated the quick intelligence in her and sent the books which fed it. He had never been anything but mindful of her but this was the first time Janet had felt that he was any way pleased with her or glad to have a daughter at all. Indeed she had been given very much the opposite impression, that she was an unlooked-for burden and a responsibility shouldered from a sense of duty only. His attempt to shed this load by marrying her to Donald had rankled. Now as she sat beside him she recalled he had met DonaId only once or twice and on such occasions when he might have been spruced into some semblance of cleanliness: she could understand now how plausible Kirsty's story might have been and how likely it was to her father that she might want to make a match of it with a neighbour's son and a boy she had known all her days.
These thoughts were in her mind as the company chatted politely and waited for the bell to summon them to dinner and they gave to her expression something which had been lacking since she had seen Jock and Kirsty turn into the Glenfoot road end. Hannah looking across approvingly noticed that she had lost the 'guarded' look she had worn, as if she were prepared for the next blow that life had to offer. Lady Angela smiled benevolently and thought,
"I declare, the child looks quite happy for once."
On the way into the dining parlour Janet took her habitual glance at the hall table but there were no white rectangles on the dark wood: no letters by the evening post. Looking away from this she saw herself in the mirror above the table and knew a great pang of longing that Simon could have seen her like this instead of in her shabby work clothes. Perhaps, when his letter came it would be to say he would come to Glasgow. She mused on this during dinner, day-dreaming about his arrival. This suited Hannah very well for her one dread was that some turn in the conversation might call forth one of Janet's brusque and forthright remarks which could so easily repel one of refinement. In the meantime she was content to note that Staindrop's eyes turned constantly to Janet's end of the table.
After dinner there was music: Hannah insisted on this because by precluding conversation it helped to obscure the lack of common topics. Phoebe ploughed conscientiously through the sonata she had acquired for the occasion and then accompanied the nervous duet she sang with Aramintha. Hannah beaming on her 'poppets' did not miss the fact that Staindrop took his seat by Janet (carefully manoeuvred to a small sofa by Hannah) and whenever it was possible he addressed a few remarks to her. When Lady Angela enquired whether he sang he required little encouragement and in a somewhat reedy and uncertain tenor sang the 'Fair Country Maid'. Phoebe's accompaniment to this was equally uncertain but, as his Lordship took very little account of it for most of the song, this hardly signified. What did signify to Hannah was that Staindrop sang with his pale blue eyes fixed on Janet in a fashion she found a little disconcerting and Hannah found most promising. Afterwards he returned to his seat beside her and murmured something at which she blushed and jerked out,
"Obliged to you, my Lord."
A compliment, speculated Hannah and experienced something of the excitement of the deer-stalker as a fine stag begins to move into range.
John Laidlaw endured the music and the tea-drinking which followed with commendable good humour; but for him this was not altogether a social occasion and he had previously begged the use of the small breakfast parlour in which to talk business and there he took Staindrop when tea was drunk. Staindrop accompanied him with marked reluctance and took a prolonged leave of the ladies. Hannah with one swift speaking look at her mother-In- law drew attention to the fervour with which he kissed Janet's hand, an attention now a trifle out of date.
"I trust I may see you again before I leave Glasgow," he was, saying, to which Janet smilingly agreed; he was after all her father's guest.
"I will ask your father to bring you to dine with me at my hotel," he told her, "it is the Grand Hotel at Charing Cross and they serve a very tolerable meal. And Mrs Lampeter, of course ... "
This obvious afterthought caused no offence to Mrs Lampeter, who was experiencing something of the triumph of a playwright watching his creation come to life upon a stage and she accepted, gracefully and effusively for them both. Laidlaw looked a trifle puzzled.
"I understood you were for London, the morn, my Lord," he observed.
Lord Staindrop looked a trifle conscious and brushed his moustaches upwards.
"Ah, yes, well, Laidlaw," he replied to this tactless remark, "I think perhaps that another day of discussions might be profitable, do you not?' It might save me a further visit ... "
Laidlaw in receipt of a discreet nudge from his betrothed and not unobservant of Staindrop's attentions to Janet agreed to this and made a suggestion of his own.
"As long as you are here you might care to see something of the country. I could arrange a steamer tour for you."
Staindrop closed with this offer with an eagerness very gratifying to Hannah.
"I should enjoy that exceedingly. Perhaps the ladies would accompany us … "
He turned to Janet.
"I know nothing of Scotland except that it produces the prettiest girls in the world. I would so much like to have a cicerone."
Before he retired with Laidlaw for a much-wished-for cigar and a glass of whisky (another Scottish product with which he was, quite willing to become familiar) it was all arranged for the following day.
When they had gone Hannah turned triumphantly to Janet and kissed her on the cheek.
"Well, my dear!" she gloated. You did make a hit!"
Janet endured this and other similar comments with a certain apprehension: it was plain what was, expected of her. Having made an impression upon his lordship she must new make best use of the further opportunities offered. And to what end? Suddenly she felt beset, said her good nights brusquely and went to her bed- room. Here she was interrupted twice in the process of going to bed; once by Aramintha who bounced in as she was brushing her hair and struggling with the mass of combs and pins employed by Lady Angela's maid.
"Oooh!" exclaimed Aramintha and plumped herself down on the bed in an attitude which would, not have pleased her mother, "it was just like something in a book!"
"What was?" asked Janet, disinterring a comb from a tangle.
"Tonight, of course!"
Aramintha clasped her hands.
"His heart left his bosom with one bound," she declaimed. "Oh, Janet ... I wish I was you!"
"You'd be very welcome," said Janet rather wearily,”What haivers is this?"
Aramintha in the course of a week in Janet's company had inevitably become familiar with this word.
"It was nothing of the sort," she protested. "He never looked at anyone else' after you'd come into the room. You could see what he felt: Oh, Janet, was ever anything so romantic?"
Janet knew a kind of exasperation.
“A few words and some common civility to his host's daughter?" she said, "You are a goose, Mintha'"
Aramintha sat upright on the bed.
"It was much, much more than that, and you know it was. And he's going to stay on in Glasgow to see you again. You heard him. Your father didn't know about it. Oh, Janet ... you will have us to stay with you when you're Lady Staindrop and have great parties and balls and invite all the eligible young men to meet us, won't you!"
"Out! " said Janet firmly and took her by the arm to the door. Aramintha giggled and stood on tip-toe to give her a kiss on the cheek.
"You can be as Scotch as you like, darling Janet, but you know very well he was dreadfully smitten."
"Good night," said Janet and closed the door.
She was in bed and reading the Fair Maid of Perth when there was a discreet tap on her door and it opened to admit Hannah.
"You're still awake, my dear," she assured herself and closed the door gently. "Good. I was most anxious to have a word with you."
She smiled upon Janet.
"Such a pleasant man, don't you agree?"
"He's civil enough, ma'am," Janet allowed.
Hannah shook her head roguishly.
"More than civil, my dear. I would say ... distinctly epris.
"Luss School had not included French in their curriculum but the meaning of this word was clear. Hannah sat down on the end of the bed and her eyes sparkled with excitement.
"What a chance for you!" she exclaimed. "Oh, Janet, I could not be better pleased if it were one of my own two."
"But, ma'am ... " Janet protested.
Hannah overrode her effortlessly.
"So handsome," she declared, "and very much the gentleman. To think of his singing a song to you! Such a delicate attention. So much more than I'd dreamed possible on a very first meeting ... "
This incautious admission gave Janet plenty to think about after Hannah had at last gone 'to bed. Before that she had succeeded in informing Janet of Staindrop's great wealth, of the extent of his Derbyshire estates and the glories of Staindrop House. Less honest than Aramintha, she had done no more than hint at the advantages of such a match to Janet's immediate family. There had followed some discreetly phrased instructions as to how Janet should behave on the following day, which had jarred more than a little.
"You must be a little more conversable, dear girl. I do realise that no man likes to have the conversation monopolised by his companion but there is a happy mean between chattering like a starling and sitting mumchance."
"Ma'am," protested Janet. "How can l? I should not think we have a single subject in common."
"Fiddlesticks!" Hannah said archly, "young people can always find at least one topic of interest."
Janet said that Lord Staindrop was not really very young and Hannah's expression stiffened a trifle.
"My dear child," she had said, rising from the bed, "it will not do to be turning up your nose at a good match because of a few years difference in age. Lord Staindrop is in his thirties and I do not consider this to be old. And he is most eligible. And you must marry, you know. I would not like to think you undutiful."
With that glint of steel gauntlet she had replaced the velvet glove, kissed Janet affectionately and retired to bed where she slept the sleep of the well-justified.
Janet had lain awake, her eyes open in more than one sense. Her prospective stepmother's kindness disguised a determination to be rid of her as speedily as might be: all the uncertainty and insecurity she had felt when her father had disclosed he was to be married returned. It was clear that she was not wanted in his household.
It was not that she found Staindrop in any way disagreeable. She admitted to herself that his attentions had been marked and flattering and that she had been flattered by them; but to be thinking of marriage at this point, marriage to a complete stranger, was discomfiting, even alarming. She wondered if she could mention Simon to her father to avert this kind of matchmaking and then rather hopelessly discarded the idea. He would be unlikely to regard those two brief letters as a sound basis for the kind of hopes she could not suppress. When she turned out the gas at last she found herself longing desperately for her mother's astringent good sense. She could have found a way out of this ridiculous dilemma. Almost she felt betrayed by Elspeth's death, as if her mother had left her to flounder from one crisis to another without a guide. When she did sleep the town was beginning to waken and she dreamed that Simon was drowning and while she rowed desperately to his aid the oars bent in her hands like barley- straws so that the boat would not move and she awoke sweating and sobbing.
In the morning there was still no letter for her and she went into the breakfast parlour in an unhappy frame of mind to endure Hannah's twittering speculations on the weather and what the day might bring forth. The gentlemen were to call for the party in a carriage at half past eight o'clock and to take them down to the Broornielaw where they were to board the Carrick Castle which sailed for Lochgoilhead at nine o'clock. Hannah oscillated between the window, where she scanned the terrace for a carriage and the sky for signs of rain, and, the amply spread breakfast table where she consumed baps and honey (a Glasgow delicacy which had won her approval) and wondered aloud whether she should wear the new blue velvet walking dress she had put on which would spot if it came on to rain or her old grey flannel coat and skirt which would be dowdy but more weatherproof. Lady Angela solved this problem by offering the loan of a waterproof cape, called, rather improbably, the Zephyr Siphonia, which she had recently purchased from Thornton's of Jamaica Street and which she declared to be both waterproof and conveniently light so that Hannah might fold it into her handbag.
Hannah, her own troubles removed, turned her attention to Janet.
"That dress will serve very well," she approved. "Take your blue cloak with the velvet trim. And you should wear your new hat with the quill ... most becoming."
"Have you an umbrella?" enquired Lady Angela buttering her third bap, "if not, I will lend you one of mine."
The carriage came at that point and in the bustle of departure Janet looked once more to see whether there was a letter but there was nothing to be found. Staindrop handed her into the carriage beside Hannah and then took his seat opposite. To his expressed hope for good weather for their expedition she responded with polite if distracted goodwill and Hannah smiled.
