No Impediment, page 9
But changing her gown for dinner in the cold magnificence of the vast room, Pippa began to dread the moment when Densie would go off to bed and leave the two of them alone. It was all so different from what she had expected. In her intense preoccupation with the personal side of her marriage, she had forgotten that there would be a public side, too. For the first time she knew doubts about her own adequacy. Her campaign to win her husband’s love must be fought out on this unfamiliar ground. To be making foolish mistakes would scarcely serve to endear her to him, and while he had never seemed to care much for his own consequence he would certainly expect his wife to comport herself with a dignity suited to the high rank that he had bestowed upon her. She sighed as she slipped her wedding gown over her head. Wearing it was a gesture of defiance. Perhaps she should have yielded to convention and resumed her mourning. But the dress buttoned down the front which had enabled her to decline the services of a maid, and it was more becoming than anything else that she possessed. Tomorrow she would be docile and obedient. She would begin to plan a new wardrobe–which was a pleasant thought–and draft an advertisement for the services of a lady’s maid–which was not. Tonight, for her first dinner at home with her husband, she would wear Aunt Marion’s pretty silk. She brushed her hair until it shone, coiled it smoothly round her head, and braced herself to face the ordeal of a formal dinner with fortitude.
But it was not an ordeal after all. Certainly it was a festive meal. A flurried housekeeper had done her best to dignify the occasion despite short notice. The food was delicious, though many of the dishes were unrecognisable by Pippa’s simpler standards. There was an array of creams and jellies that caused Denise to clasp her hands ecstatically, and his lordship insisted that both ladies take wine with him. He had also had the good sense to have the meal served on the small table in front of the library fire. He was in the habit, he explained, of using this in preference to the enormous one in the dining room which, when fully extended, would seat sixty.
‘I have no great liking for formality,’ he added, ‘though you, my dear, must do exactly as you choose, and there are, of course, occasions when it is essential.’
Somewhat heartened by these remarks, and possibly even more so by two glasses of the cool, bubbling champagne that her husband himself poured for her, Pippa enjoyed her dinner. Once the first course had been removed his lordship dismissed the servants, and without the constraint of their presence, talk become more animated. There had been so little time to make plans together that Quentin had been obliged to make several tentative arrangements for which he now sought approval. Would Pippa like to go up to Town at the end of the week? He had given orders for Merland House to be made ready to receive its new mistress and for extra servants to be engaged. ‘There will be a great deal to do,’ he told her. ‘You must be presented, you know, upon your marriage. Which means your Court dress to be ordered without loss of time. Then you will be wanting to buy a great many clothes and will need to hire a dresser to look after them for you. But most of all, of course, I want you to meet my mother.’
He sounded so calm and mater-of-fact that Town life, a Court dress, even her presentation, seemed natural and inevitable. Meeting his mother was something different again. That she reserved for later consideration.
Meanwhile she said thoughtfully, ‘And Denise?’
Here, too, his lordship had made provision. He had written to his Cousin Claudia–the one who was married to a naval officer and with whom Pippa had struck up a friendship–asking if she would like to spend the summer months at Merland and give an eye to Denise. He shot that young lady a wary glance, wondering how far her English had progressed, and added swiftly in an under-voice, ‘She is increasing, you see–Claudia–and cannot go about in Society. I think she will be happy to oblige us, and it will be more cheerful for her than a hired house in Portsmouth with no one of her own family to bear her company. Here she has a number of friends–and we shall be backward and forward a good deal. Moreover it will save her a good deal of expense–and Perry has very little beyond his pay.’
Pippa had never realised that there could be straitened means in such exalted circles, or that such a one as her husband, himself one of fortune’s favourites, would give a thought to them. She heartily approved the scheme, and between discussing which rooms would be most suitable for Claudia’s use and considering the kind of carriage that she herself would drive and how many horses she would need, she was soon quite at ease. She had ridden very little of late years and had never driven anything more exciting than a gig, but at least this prospect caused her no trepidation. It lay within the realms of the familiar.
Denise grew sleepy from mingled excitement, strange food and champagne, and went off yawning to the schoolroom wing, leaving her elders happily engrossed in arranging a programme for Pippa’s first visit to the Metropolis. At first it appeared that there was a considerable divergence of taste between them, but Pippa’s schoolgirl notions soon yielded to her husband’s more sophisticated views. He allowed that the Tower of London might be worth a visit, as might Westminster Abbey and St. Paul’s Cathedral, but museums were fusty and boring. Vauxhall Gardens, of which Aunt Marion had spoken wistfully, were slightly out of fashion. Ranelagh was all the crack. And though it was far from fashionable, he rather thought she would enjoy Astley’s Circus. Threatres and concerts, of course, and even the Opera could be quite amusing. An opinion which considerably surprised his naive listener, who had not thought it so intended. It was a pity that she would not be able to dance while she was in mourning, but there was no reason why they should not attend any number of parties and balls as spectators.
Pippa was in the midst of explaining that this was actually a fortunate circumstance, since her dancing would never pass muster in fashionable circles and that she would have to arrange for some lessons, when the front door bell rang. It was rung with considerable vigour and the ring was followed by a brisk assault upon the door knocker. This visitor was obviously determined upon admittance, and since it was nearly ten o’clock their eyes met in surprise and speculation.
‘Someone needing help,’ surmised Quentin. ‘Urgently, too. House on fire, or a carriage accident.’
But it was the homely figure of Dr. Mallow that was ushered into the room, and though he appeared harassed and was much put about at being obliged to intrude upon them at so late an hour, his errand was not concerned with such dramatic happenings as Quentin had imagined.
‘It’s young Dickon,’ he said abruptly, when he had done apologising. ‘Run away from school. Left them a letter to say he was off to join the Army, and not to look for him, because if he was taken back he’d only make off again first chance he got.’
One of the under masters, a fellow called Brook, had arrived just as he sat down to his belated dinner. They owed the prompt discovery of the lad’s escapade to him, since he had been returning from a private errand when he had caught a glimpse of a familiar-looking figure boarding the London stage. Upon his return to the school he had at once instituted enquiries, and Dickon’s note had been discovered. They had sent immediately in pursuit of the stage, but when the messenger caught up with the lumbering vehicle his quarry had already left it, and a cursory search of the fields and farms bordering the road had discovered no trace of him. Mr. Brook, it emerged, was to some extent in the boy’s confidence, though not, of course, privy to this foolish prank. At any rate he was well aware of Dickon’s military ambitions, and held it to be rather more than a prank.
Pippa, recovered now from the first shock of the news, nodded soberly. ‘I should have thought of it,’ she said. ‘It was not natural that he should have taken his disappointment so quietly. He must have had this in mind for some time.’
‘Well that’s all very well,’ growled the doctor. ‘And I’m not saying I don’t sympathise with him to some extent. But he can’t be permitted to kick over the traces in this reckless fashion. We must find him and get him back. Then we can see what’s to be done.’
‘And perhaps that is where I can help you,’ put in Quentin quietly. ‘You cannot be expected to neglect your other responsibilities to go hunting for one pesky boy. If you will entrust the task to me, I will do my possible. Thought I am not his guardian we get on pretty well together and his faith in my worldly knowledge is positively alarming. If only I can find him, it should not be too difficult to persuade him to come home–at least until we can discuss his future career more thoroughly. Will they have him back at school if he gives his word not to abscond again?’
For a moment the doctor looked dubious. Then his face brightened. ‘If your lordship were to go bail for him, I reckon they would,’ he opined. ‘Brook says he’s a good sort of lad, sensible and well-liked. But he’s to be found first of all, and I don’t above half like putting the job on you. When all’s said and done, it’s my responsibility.’
‘Well I certainly couldn’t doctor your patients,’ returned Quentin cheerfully, ‘but I’ll back myself to track down a runaway schoolboy as well as the next. Suppose we each stick to the job we can do best?’ And Dr. Mallow yielded thankfully to this sensible view of the matter.
When he had taken his departure, Quentin turned to his wife. ‘You will have to forgive me, my dear. A shocking thing to desert you on our wedding night. I can only plead that he is your cousin. You will understand that this business brooks no delay. The boy will take no harm if he succeeds in enlisting–though it may be a rough and disillusioning experience. It’s the thought of the other dangers that surround him–no more than a guinea or two in his pocket, I daresay, and every rogue and sneak-thief on the look-out for a green ’un–that makes me urgent to be gone. Fortunate that it’s full moon. I’ll enlist a groom or two–some of Dickon’s particular cronies who will be eager to help–and send you news as soon as I have any. Keep up your courage–and forgive my desertion.’ With which he kissed her soundly, with considerably more determination than he had ever shown before, and went off to change into riding clothes.
His wife was left to wonder whether this sudden display of dominant masculinity was due to the prospect of imminent action or to relief at his escape from his matrimonial responsibilities.
NINE
Despite his confident claim it took Quentin three days to track down the runaway, and two more to return him to school and persuade the authorities to accept him. In return for a certain promise, Dickon himself was ready to eat humble pie and to accept any punishment that might be meted out to him, but his preceptors were less amenable. It took Quentin’s best persuasion, backed by all the weight of his rank and influence, to win their consent, on a solemn undertaking from the culprit to submit himself to school discipline until such time as his new cousin could arrange his entry into the army on more orthodox lines. It was his lordship’s plea that expulsion from school would inevitably blast a promising career at the outset that finally turned the trick.
He had sent word to Pippa as soon as he had the boy safe in his keeping, but she had had ample time to imagine a number of unpleasant and dangerous situations in which Dickon might find himself, and not all her common sense could really convince her that most of them were highly improbable.
Had he but known it, her cousin could scarcely have done her a greater service. The great household to which she had come was divided in its attitude towards her. Its younger members thought her marriage was romantic–just like a fairy tale–but there were several doubters. Romsey and Mrs. Hayward, the butler and housekeeper, who had seen many years in Merland service, were two who had reserved judgement. To be sure, they agreed, it was high time that his lordship married, and set up his nursery, but was this young lady worthy of the high position to which she had been so suddenly elevated? There was a look of breed about her and she had pleasant unassuming manners. But she was an unknown, with neither rank nor wealth to commend her–so far as they knew. To their credit be it said, both ignored the scandalous stories they, in common with every other servant on the place, had heard. But that was because they knew his lordship.
‘I’m not saying that he hasn’t had dealings with the muslin company now and now,’ pronounced Romsey judicially. ‘But only with such as well knew what they were about. He’d never meddle with a gently born girl like her young ladyship. And we know the Lady Dowager, don’t we, now? I’d not seek the source of these wicked tales any further than the Dower House.’
Mrs. Hayward nodded sagely. ‘You don’t know what a difference it makes,’ she confided. ‘The master being a decent gentleman as well as a noble lord. One place I know of, there’s never a maid servant safe from improper advances. And while I’ll not pretend there’s not some as welcomes them, mothers of decent girls won’t let them take service in such a household. What’s more, those that do mostly live to rue the day. Like should keep to like,’ she ended significantly.
‘Aye. And there’s the rub,’ nodded Romsey. ‘We’ll just have to wait and see.’
Thanks to Master Dickon’s cantrips they saw a good deal, and sooner than they had expected. They saw how the newcomer bore herself in adversity. Let alone that it was no small matter to have your bridegroom snatched away on your wedding night, it was plain to the discerning eye that the young lady suffered considerable anxiety over her errant cousin. In a great household there are few secrets. To add to the pale cheeks and shadowed eyes, the swiftly repressed start when the bell rang or a carriage drove up, everyone knew of rumpled sheets that betokened restless nights, and of dishes barely tasted despite the cook’s best endeavours. Yet her ladyship never failed in courtesy or composure. She dealt gently with ‘the little foreign wench’s’ moods and whims, never forgot to thank either man or maid who performed a service for her, and quite won Mrs. Hayward’s heart when that lady offered, with some formality, to hand over the keys which for years had been her badge of office by saying, ‘Oh, no! Please! I wish you will keep them! It is no light task to keep a house well tended and comfortable, especially one of this size. I took pride in keeping my uncle’s house to the best of my ability. I like housekeeping and will be very happy to learn of you. But you must know that, setting aside his lordship’s fondness for established ways of which I know nothing, I should make a dozen mistakes in half an hour. The more so at this present since I am preoccupied with my cousin’s affairs. Pray don’t throw me to the wolves, Mrs. Hayward. My whole dependence is on you!’
Which, as the good lady later said to Romsey, couldn’t have been spoke more handsome, not if she’d been the Queen herself.
In normal circumstances Pippa might have been diffident, morbidly anxious not to make mistakes in this strange new world, the more so since she had been deprived of Quentin’s support. But concern for her cousin put such thoughts out of her mind, and when she discovered that the members of her new household genuinely shared that concern she found it easy to be her natural friendly self. Dickon, having run tame at Merland during his holidays, had earned a considerable degree of liking, and there were many enquiries for the latest news of him. In the seemingly endless days that elapsed before Quentin sent word that he was safe, Merland and its new mistress came to an acceptance of each other that might otherwise have taken months.
Her mind relieved of its most pressing anxiety, she embarked on a more detailed exploration of her new home. But now she met friends everywhere. They were respectful and correct, but their eyes were alive and welcoming. The veiled curiosity of which she had been aware on her wedding day might never have been, and the older servants were so eager to explain their duties and responsibilities, to boast of long service or the importance of their particular place in the hierarchy, that the exploration became a long and leisurely business with frequent deviations into the family histories of the various speakers. Pippa had no idea that she was winning golden opinions. In her quiet life she had often felt lonely and rather useless. Here was a whole world of people who would be partly dependent on her for their contentment and security, who were already beginning to confide in her and tell her their troubles. She reacted to this atmosphere like a parched flower to gentle rain, and listened with absorbed interest to the rambling stories, offering sympathy and occasionally, shyly, a word of practical advice.
She emerged briefly from this welter of domesticity to consult with Mrs. Hayward and the cook on the important subject of choosing a meal fit to set before her returning lord. He would be tired and hungry, and there would be a good deal to talk about. Something tempting and hot, that could be served quickly if the traveller should chance to be delayed, she suggested tentatively. The cook looked slightly affronted at this reflection on his talents. Mrs. Hayward began to suggest dishes, all of which, the pair declared, were prime favourites with the master, until the projected menu began to sound like a royal banquet. She left them debating the respective merits of roast goose and fillet of veal with high sauce, and went off to consult Romsey about wine.
Between his wife and his servants, all united in the desire to make the evening meal a second and even more successful wedding feast, Quentin found the reception that awaited him a little overwhelming. He was very tired, having been in the saddle almost constantly during the early part of his absence with little opportunity to rest since. He had sustained a difficult interview with his new cousin, steering carefully between the tongue lashing prompted by mingled weariness and relief and an expression of sympathy for the boy’s single-minded determination. Then there had been the delicate manoeuvring to win over the school authorities. Finally he had been obliged to complete his homeward journey on a hired horse, which proved to be touched in the wind and had to be carefully nursed lest it founder completely. He wanted nothing so much as his bed. But despite the urgent reason for his going, he felt vaguely guilty over the cavalier fashion in which he had deserted his bride, and supposed, yawning, that he had better do the pretty.
