Kit and Kitty, page 4
But this turn of thought proved a happy one and she announced triumphantly, "They will have Kitty's money to live on, even if that wicked old man ignores every tenet of decency and morality and keeps his old money! Kitty will have quite enough for the two of them!"
He suddenly looked up from his pipe and smiled at her. "That may well be true. There will be something coming to her from us one day, too."
The conversation had come back full circle. "And so you see that it is really an excellent scheme, this match. Kitty has a fortune and breeding, perhaps not the grand connections such as some girls can claim but enough that young Christopher needn't be ashamed for her!"
"And he has a title," her husband concluded good-naturedly. "Just what you, and Mrs. Brampton, have had your hearts set on all these years!"
"Exactly! Imagine, our daughter a countess!"
She turned to him, her eyes alight with excitement, but on catching sight of the expression on his face, sighed impatiently. "Why must you become so dour of a sudden? Now what flaw have you found?"
He took her gently by the hand and pulled her into his lap. "It may require more than a title to make our Kitty a happy woman for the rest of her life, my dear."
"What can you be saying? Surely a title is what every young girl wants."
"What she may want, and what she should have for a lifetime of happy marriage are two separate things. At least, that has been my observation of young girls. And I am not altogether sure that Kitty does want this title."
"Such foolishness!" She tried to twist out of his lap, but he had her arm in his arms. "And I am not even sure she is old enough to know her own mind."
"Then we must know it for her."
"She is young enough and romantic enough to seek love, my very own love. Have you forgotten your own girlhood? Our courtship?"
His wife was blushing becomingly but hid her head in his shoulder before he could do more than appreciate a glimpse of it. "But to be Lady Helm some day! Surely?"
He shook his head "no".
"Have I made a terrible mistake? Is that what you are telling me?"
"No, not at all. I wouldn't have let things go this far if I thought that. Let us examine this proposed marriage from a more rational point of view."
"Yes, dear." She curled her feet under her and prepared to listen.
"This young Kit seems to be a nice enough lad.
"Very nice."
*'His own background, the wicked uncle aside, seems sound enough as to family and education."
"Oh, yes, the best schools!"
"He is of an age with Kitty."
"Nearly to the day!"
"Well . . ."
"Close enough. And his family and ours are from the same part of the world. He will be familiar with the same people, know the district, fall into the way of life."
"Well . . ."
"Well? Now I am in error?" she asked. . "Never that! But he has spent the whole of his life here in London and attended schools in the south, except for some very brief times in the north. I fear you will find his knowledge of Cumberland sadly deficient."
"Well, it must be in his blood, surely?"
"Surely it is!" he agreed.
She glanced up at him from his shoulder, the movement timid and furtive. When he saw her glance he smiled and dropped a kiss on her forehead. "Yes, another thought?"
"No, my dear, just an old one. It seems that you are willing to encourage this match after all, as I had hoped. Am I right?"
"You are right. But I will not have Kitty forced into an engagement where there is no attachment on her side, nor on the young man's, for that matter."
"Of course not! To force them to marry would be positively Gothic! Every feeling must revolt!"
"You might try explaining that to Mrs. Brampton!" Then seeing her abashed face, he relented. "So we must give them a chance to get better acquainted and hope for the best." Then there came to him the image of a chic new equipage he had seen bowling through the Park and fashionable streets of London, along with the whisperings heard of who had paid for Lady Madge's latest extravagances. His face settled into sterner lines. "And so I would suggest that we take some action to ensure that opportunity."
"Whatever can you mean?"
"Merely this. That we should get the young people away from London, and its myriad attractions and distractions."
"But the Season has not yet begun!"
"It will do them no harm, they will have other Seasons to enjoy. And besides, if this match becomes a fact, young Kit will be assuming some new responsibilities that will weigh more heavily on his shoulders than the purchase of nags at Tattersall's. There is no reason why he shouldn't know what they are before an irrevocable decision is reached."
"Responsibilities?"
"Kitty is my only child. My property will go to her one day, and it will be her husband's duty to manage it. Kit ought to see where part of his future with Kitty would lie. I shan't have my land going into the hands of a wastrel or worse. I've worked too hard to countenance such a thing! I must take my own measure of this Kit and see if he is up to snuff."
"Wastrel? How can you use such a term against that charming young man? He is everything that is courteous and kind! You must be teasing me!" "I'm sure he is everything you say. But he is only just beginning to spread his wings. I want to see which direction he'll take. Yes, I think a visit north is called for."
Chapter Six
It was Mrs. Brampton who unwittingly effected Mr. Leyburne's suggestion that the young couple be separated from London.
The prospect of her goddaughter advantageously connected to the scion of an old and noble house thrilled her. But the aforementioned scion had the unfortunate habit of slipping away from her presence, and that of his fiancee, with disconcerting regularity. Mrs. Brampton had too good an opinion of herself to guess that, he might hold her in personal distaste, so she ascribed this lack of courtesy to the temptations of the metropolis. She set about with her usual energy to remedy the trouble. Transported to a scene over which she exercised her beneficent control, she was sure that she would soon have young de Fleming behaving exactly as he should.
"It would be such an honor for me to be the first to fete the young couple, Mrs. Leyburne," she confided to that lady over a private tea one rainy afternoon.
Mrs. Leyburne, aware of the strictures placed on her by her husband, was dismayed by this assumption that all was settled between her daughter and Kit de Fleming.
"It is very kind of you to offer such a treat, but truly, my dear Mrs. Brampton, it is too much for us to ask of you!" But before she could enlarge on her theme, the other lady continued with her own thoughts.
"We shall announce their betrothal from Broughton Place, my dear friend. What could be more proper? More dignified? We would thus avoid the crush and notoriety that such an interesting event would undoubtedly incur here in London, giving it all the advantages of a small and intimate occasion, quite en famille, you know. It is so much more exclusive that way."
"My husband . . ."
"Mr. Leyburne will undoubtedly want to inspect his own estates while so far north. I shall not be offended if he chooses to travel on to the Hall." A sensible woman, she had no illusions of where she stood in Mr. Leyburne's esteem.
"He has not precisely given his consent to this match!"
"It wants but a little delicate handling and all will be settled. Leave it in my hands, dear friend! I shall see to it all. You must trust me!"
"He —I mean— we had thought to let the young couple grow better acquainted with one another. . . /'
"As they will at Broughton, I doubt not. In fact, that was precisely my intention, Mrs. Leyburne! Precisely! What the situation requires is privacy and adroit planning by those who are sympathetic and interested. Such as I! A female of my experience and station in life is best qualified to achieve all that we want. You need have no fear of my enthusiasm in this matter."
It was not Mrs. Brampton's enthusiasm that Mrs. Leyburne doubted—far from it. She was aware that the other lady had every reason to desire the happy arrangement of a marriage between her goddaughter and young de Fleming. It would be the culmination of a long-standing ambition that had been carefully nurtured through the years of scrambling on the fringes of society, then slowly penetrating the outer circles. Mrs. Brampton undoubtedly saw herself poised on the verge of entering the inner sanctums of the haut Ton through this connection with so august a name as de Fleming.
For you see, Mrs. Leyburne's doubts rose from Mrs. Brampton's claim to a station in life. It was true that she was a perfectly estimable woman, the daughter of a country vicar in a parish near Leyburne Hall. It was not a church which the Leyburnes attended themselves, their abode being in another parish. It was only the merest chance that had brought them there on the very day their first (and as events later proved, their only) child was born, some two months before it was due.
Retiring to the nearest substantial residence, the rectory, Mrs. Leyburne had been delivered of an undersized girl, one so puny that all had entertained lurid doubts as to the mite's ability to long survive in this world. It was this fear, coupled with the peculiar convenience of a religious man so near at hand, that had inspired the parents to have their daughter baptized immediately following her birth. And necessity and the sacrament demanding a godmother, they had seized what was available, the vicar's daughter, a worthy maid affianced to an up-and-coming merchant from Kendal. So it was that Mrs. Brampton, then Miss Cuthby, had achieved such a degree of intimacy with the Leyburne family. Mr. Brampton's amazing success in trade had done the rest.
"You must not hesitate to leave it all to me, as you have done so many times before! I know just how it all ought to be done, never fear!"
Mrs. Leyburne writhed under this assurance. She had, all too often, done precisely that, and she had vivid memories of the results of some of those decisions. She gathered the courage to oppose in some way her strong-willed companion.
"Mr. Leyburne is most particular that no announcement be made immediately. That must be understood."
"Oh, perfectly, perfectly!" Mrs. Brampton's indulgent smile showed how seriously she took all of this. "The gentlemen have so little understanding of these peculiarly female concerns, they will have their little qualms and whims! I'll wager that once it is all settled, he will have little enough to say!"
"He shall discover any announcement made without his approval, that is certain."
Her hostess merely shook her head, smiled, and clucked her tongue.
"It would mean a retraction in the Times. If necessary."
This drew the other woman's attention for the first time. "Surely not! He could not mean to do such a thing!"
"Oh, but he could and he would!"
"But the scandal!"
"It would mean little or nothing to him! You know him!"
Mrs. Brampton was positively shaken at the thought. "It could ruin us all! Young Kitty, too! It would put an end to any hope of a respectable match for her!"
"Such would be a small matter to him. He would expect the rest of the world to be as tolerant and forgetful as he!"
"A retraction! Well, really. I must think on that. A retraction!"
And think she did for the remainder of the meal, so much so that the projected visit to Broughton Place was nearly forgotten. Alas for Mrs. Leyburne's peace of mind, and the comfort of many, this did not quite happen.
"We shall see what Mr. Leyburne has to say after we have all retired to Cumberland, my dear Mrs. Leyburne! We shall see!" This proclamation was delivered with a straight back and a gleaming eye, and Mrs. Leyburne, her presentiment based on long experience, suffered a secret sigh and a shudder to escape her.
Sc it was arranged over tea that a se'night hence the Brampton and Leyburne carriages, filled with those families and their guests, would set out for the north. Any suggestion that Mrs. de Fleming would raise objections against a project that would take her from London at the start of the Season were swept aside, with some justice. After all, Mrs. Brampton was no mean judge of character, at least not in those areas influenced by the judicious expenditure of money.
They would linger indefinitely at Broughton Place, the Brampton country seat only recently improved by Mrs. Brampton's taste coupled with Mr. Brampton's money. There, all the principals involved would be under the roof and eye, not to say the personality and influence, of Mrs. Brampton herself. And that lady had no doubts, no fears whatever, of her ability to achieve an outcome that would satisfy to a nicety her own desires.
Having achieved so much, at least in the planning stage, Mrs. Brampton was gracious enough to agree that it would be fitting, and pleasing to Mr. Leyburne, that the party would at some time after the announcement of the engagement travel even further north to Leyburne Hall, there to enjoy the hospitality of the bride-to-be's family. After all, young Kit should begin to acquaint himself with what would one day undoubtedly be his through his wife, and Mr. Leyburne was a force to appease and reckon with. By the time the last crumb of plum cake had been rescued from its solitary position on the plate, the matter was settled.
When Mr. Leyburne was told of the visit, he merely shrugged his shoulders and set about making plans for his own convenience. He would depart for the north two days before the ladies were to set out in their cavalcade, travel straight to his own property of Leyburne Hall, there to arrange for the eventual arrival of his wife and guests. He had one eye on avoiding Mrs. Brampton and the other on circumventing her interference.
Mrs. de Fleming, pleased by this mark of support and honor for the match coming as it did from so formidable a power, welcomed Mrs. Brampton^s plans as she would those of a valued ally.
Kitty, who had sought in vain for one last glimpse of her cavalier, felt only indifference that she would not be deprived of all hope of seeing him again. Even the lure of her beloved meres and fells failed to stimulate her interest, much to her mother's chagrin. That good lady could not know that, at the advanced age of seventeen, her daughter had given up all hope of ever being happy again.
It was Kit, with so much more to leave behind in London, who was distraught when he heard the announcement of the trip. An interview with Lady Madge did little to relieve the emotions which burdened his soul. The sense of his impending loss, however temporary, of the lady's company immediately drove him to her side.
"But we shall be apart only in the flesh, dearest Kit!" she protested in the face of his anger and disappointment.
"That is precisely the point!"
"In spirit we shall never be separated, my darling. They can never do that!" Despite a momentary flare of irritation, she could not help but preen herself with this display of his devotion.
Kit, for the first time impatient for her romantic and foolish notions, waved this aside with an impatient gesture. "I am sure that the spirit will take care of itself quite nicely when we are able to see one another, speak to one another, touch ..."
"We shall be in touch, Kit! We shall write letters every day, recording all that has happened in the other's absence, all that our souls have felt. And besides, you will be so pleased with the Lake District! One cannot help but envy you the opportunity! It is all the thing now, you know, and they say that this man Brampton has been quite lavish when it came to building his very own country seat. All will be in the height of luxury."
"I don't care for my own comfort, much less luxury! I would surrender it all to be with you, yon know that!"
"Yes, darling, but the Lake District is said to be very beautiful! Everyone is visiting it now, balking about it, wanting to go there! You will enjoy it immensely, I'm sure. I quite envy you y^our journey."
Kit seized on this idea. "Why don't you follow me? You could stay nearby, some place close enough for us to meet daily. I cannot bear to think of being away from you!"
"Stay some place nearby? Wherever can you mean? I, stay at some shabby inn? Or take rooms with some yokels? Surely you cannot be in earnest! You are jesting, tell me it is so!"
"But we could be together still! Isn't that what's important?"
"You in luxury, me in shabby lodgings?"
"I would gladly reverse our positions, just to be near you, darling Madge!" He took her hand, covering it with kisses. With her other she gently stroked the curls of his hair, noticing with pleasure how the sun played on the magnificent diamond that adorned her hand.
"Our souls will be as one, darling. Can you doubt it, you in the most beautiful district in the whole of England? The most romantic, the most picturesque, the most aesthetically pleasing? And I, here in London, longing for you with all my heart? Besides, you must think of the scandal there would be if I followed you north!"
Angered, Kit jumped to his feet, trapping her hands in his with a ferocious grip. Such were his feelings that he must vent them with argument and bitter recrimination. The excuse was literally at hand.
"You have a new ring, I see. A new jewel! You have found another lover, someone else has replaced me in your affections! You are accepting gifts from another man, aren't you?"
Lady Madge smiled her slow, sweet smile, shaking her head in patient denial. It had been slow coming, this jealousy and anger, but she had known it would appear at some point. It had happened always before this way. Whatever the truth of the accusation, she knew what she would say. "It is but a tawdry bauble, one I've had these many years. What you take for a gemstone is merely paste. Do calm yourself, my dearest, silliest love! As if I could ever love another than you." And with suave words and loving gestures, she turned away his anger and disappointment and soon led him to accept the inevitability—and rightness—of the journey and its planned result.
Chapter Seven
The land between the south of England and the Lake District gradually changes over the miles until the traveler cannot but guess that he has departed one country and entered into an alien land, so great are the differences to be found. From flat tidewater lands one moves into splendid mountains. The gentle hills of the Home Counties embrace the eastern plain of the island, it is true, but the spine of the country is the Pennine Chain, bristling along its central length and abetted by the smaller clusters of higher ground to the south. The Chilterns and the Cotswolds embedded in the gut of the land to the southwest are but hints of the Pennines, for these latter are more truly a mountain range, a chain of peaks and valleys such as one finds in Europe or on other continents. They are like a stiff fence between east and west, while the southern heights are merely clustered mounds.
