Daphne (10 page)

Daphne thought of escaping from London. No more listening to Mr Archer worrying about the set of his cravat, no more entering some salon
half-dreading
, half-hoping the irritating Mr Garfield would be there.

‘I should like to go very much.’

‘I’ll speak to Mrs Armitage. Be off with you. I’ll call on Annabelle and see what I can do.’

The vicar was relieved to find Annabelle very much restored to her former beauty although her face was a trifle too thin and there were shadows under her eyes. He was irritated to find Mr Archer very much present in Annabelle’s drawing room. Annabelle had always been a flirt, reflected the vicar sourly, but she was going much too far with Mr Archer.

The vicar turned a fulminating gaze on that exquisite young man.

‘See here,’ he growled, ‘I want to have a word in private with my daughter, so …’

‘But I am come to take Lady Brabington driving!’

‘Got the wrong daughter, haven’t you?’

‘Mr Armitage, Daphne’s sisters are as dear to me as she is herself.’

‘
Miss
Daphne to you,’ snapped the vicar. ‘Oh, very well. Be a good chap and wait in your carriage.’

Mr Archer gave a magnificent leg and sauntered out.

‘What are you up to?’ asked the vicar.

Annabelle fanned herself. ‘Nothing,’ she said airily. ‘I am bored, that is all, and I find Mr Archer a most undemanding young man.’

Mr Archer, standing in the hall, pulling on his gloves, heard the sound of his own name and decided to eavesdrop:

‘I told Daphne she could marry him if she wants,’ he heard the vicar say. Mr Archer smiled
complaisantly
. Annabelle’s reply was indistinct.

‘Strange,’ came the vicar’s voice again, ‘for I could have sworn she was slightly taken with Garfield. Now, what’s this I hear about you? Daphne would have it you were making sheep’s eyes at Garfield.’

‘Jealous cat,’ said Annabelle. ‘It was quite the other way around. Mr Garfield could not take his eyes off
me
. You know how gentlemen are, Papa.’

‘You’re well enough, I grant you that,’ said the vicar brutally, ‘but no man in his right mind is going to look at a married woman with a squalling baby when there’s a diamond of the first water like Daphne in the same room.’

‘I am accounted the beauty of the family,’ said Annabelle.

‘Yes, but that was before Daphne began to outshine you. Never mind all this. What I want to know is why you and Brabington have quarrelled and why you are so unhappy.’

‘It’s a silly marital squabble,’ said Annabelle. ‘I am unhappy because I am bored.’

‘
You
are bored!’ the vicar’s angry voice came quite clearly through the door panels to Mr Archer’s listening ears. ‘You are a spoilt brat and I wish you would tell the truth. I
know
what ails Brabington. It’s because I was able to give you a child and he cannot! So you’ll just need to talk him round.’

Mr Archer stood very still, his eyes wide with shock. Then he quickly scampered from the house and sat in his carriage his heart beating hard. Here was startling news!

Incest!

London would have heard nothing like it since the Byron scandal.

Mr Archer forced himself to relax. This piece of information could prove useful. He was anxious to wed Daphne Armitage because he sensed in her a sexual coldness and purity which appealed to him vastly. The Armitage family had become famous in society by virtue of Daphne’s elder three sisters’ dazzling marriages. Daphne’s brothers-in-law were all very rich men. Although Daphne could not be expected to bring any very great dowry to the marriage, she was well enough connected to ensure that Mr Archer could spend a long life of ease staying with his various in-laws. Mr Archer did not want children. He certainly did not want to go about begetting them. But there were still some rumours circulating about London which he wished to quash and this he could do by marrying Daphne Armitage.
It was important to secure Daphne before she made her come-out when the competition would be fierce.

In Daphne, he would have a beautiful piece of porcelain for a wife. Recently, when Simon Garfield had appeared on the scene, he had been afraid that Daphne might turn out as other women, but then Mr Garfield had disappeared and Daphne was once more her usual, beautiful, calm, aloof self.

No other woman would do. No other woman would fit the bill so exactly. But Mr Archer saw a few rocks and shoals ahead. Now he had this fascinating bit of gossip which would ruin the Armitages for life.

He would hug it close and use it carefully if the necessity arose.

The door opened and Annabelle came out. She was much flushed. Her squat and burly father stood glowering on the doorstep. Mr Archer allowed himself a delicate shudder. How could Lady
Brabington
possibly …?

And
he
had once been called decadent!

His beautiful mouth curved in its classical smile and he set himself out to be as charming as possible to Annabelle.

He had always been somewhat afraid of the vicar but now he felt a glorious sensation of power. He waved cheerfully to Mr Armitage and set his team in motion.

Annabelle’s better self had taken over. She was feeling guilty, she was missing her husband badly, and the only thing she found to comfort her was Mr Archer’s infectious high spirits.

He must be in love, thought Annabelle. Perhaps Daphne has made a wise choice.

Mrs Armitage appeared to have lost all her interest in Daphne’s affairs. After seeming very cast down at the news that Daphne was to marry Mr Archer, Mrs Armitage had once more resorted to her patent medicines and her bed.

On hearing that Daphne was to set out for Brighton, Diana and Frederica begged to be allowed to return to Hopeworth and Mrs Armitage said faintly she would be glad to return to the country. Mr Armitage could escort Daphne if he wished and the maid, Betty, could go also.

Daphne was glad to escape London. The weather was once more hot and close. As the carriage bowled through the early morning streets she could not help glancing out, just to see if there might be a glimpse of a tall man with copper hair and two foxhounds.

The air of Brighton was bracing and the sea was as blue as the almost-forgotten Mr Archer’s eyes.

Brighton had been discovered by the young Prince of Wales in 1783 when he had been told to try sea-bathing to cure the swollen glands in his neck. He bought a farmhouse and set about redesigning it. The final result was the Pavilion, the splendour of its rooms making even the jewelled splendour of his guests’ clothes appear insignificant. It was one of the wonders of the age, its walls decorated with
mandarins
and fluted yellow draperies to resemble the tents of the Chinese, its peach-blossom ceilings and
canopies of tassels and bells, its imperial five-clawed dragons darting from every chandelier and
overmantel
.

Daphne thought it a fairy palace and wondered at the scorn of the critics. One wrote:

And that wit, Sydney Smith, had said acidly, it looked ‘as if St Paul’s had gone to the sea and pupped’.

Its domes sparkled in the sunlight as the Reverend Armitage drove his daughter past, enjoying her awe. Although the vicar outwardly joined the fashionable in condemning the Pavilion, he privately thought it ‘a deuced fine show’ and, in truth, secretly
considered
most things regarded as good taste as deadly dull.

Daphne was a most rewarding audience. She found her first view of the ocean thrilling in the extreme. Her eyes travelled from the stately houses glittering with fresh paint in the sunlight to the colourful ranks of bathing boxes on the long line of rock and shingle.

Everything seemed to flutter and dance in the bright light, from the skirts of the ladies’ muslin gowns to the sails of the yachts bobbing on that incredible expanse of blue water.

The pier with its wooden deck balanced on ranks
of elegant slender piles had the spindly elegance of a heron, treading delicately out to sea.

The very air was an aphrodisiac, although Daphne did not understand this, and therefore did not understand why Mr Garfield’s hard face seemed to rise up in her mind to blot out the bright scene.

She was not all that far removed from the schoolroom, and, very much like a child, she begged her father, ‘Oh, please. Will I be able to bathe?’

‘Of course,’ said the vicar indulgently. ‘Might have a go myself.’ He was glad the male bathers were far enough removed from his daughter’s wide innocent gaze, however, since no man in his right mind wore anything at all when going for a swim, unlike the ladies who had to be covered from head to foot in flannel.

Minerva’s house faced the sea, a tall white building with green shutters and black iron
balconies
.

It was a relief to Daphne to find Minerva much the same as ever. She and her husband appeared to be very much in love and Minerva confided shyly she was expecting her second child.

Julian was a chubby, sturdy little boy, extremely good-natured. He adored his young uncles, the twins Peregrine and James, who dropped their newly acquired lordly manners and rolled about the floor entertaining Julian and behaving very much like the schoolboys that they were.

There was something so bright and cheerful and
normal
about Minerva’s household that Daphne felt
all her worries begin to fade. It was like being a child again with Minerva on hand to fuss and lecture. The old moralizing Minerva had largely gone although enough of her original character remained to make her appear a safe rock in a sea of frivolous fashion.

When Daphne’s things were unpacked, Minerva was delighted to find an excuse to give her beloved son an airing and agreed to Daphne’s suggestion that they should go for a walk. Little Julian was tucked up in his small carriage, his eyes, large and green and unwavering like his father’s, placidly surveying the summer scene.

Daphne attracted a good deal of attention from the strolling bucks and bloods. ‘We will have you married before you even leave Brighton,’ teased Minerva.

‘I have already found the man I am going to marry,’ said Daphne, wondering why as she said it the summer scene seemed to lose a lot of its sparkle.

Minerva eagerly began to ply her sister with questions, becoming increasingly anxious over Daphne’s very evident lack of enthusiasm.

‘Daphne, dear,’ said Minerva hesitatingly. ‘Papa is often a great deal too managing. You must not let him thrust you into a marriage you do not want. If it all becomes too much for you, then you may make your home with me.’

‘Oh, I want to marry Mr Archer,’ said Daphne in a dreary little voice. ‘Papa was quite against the match but then he changed his mind.’

‘Perhaps you are fatigued after your journey?’
suggested Minerva. ‘You do not seem at all excited by the prospect of your engagement. Perhaps you should wait until you have had your Season. You are very young and cannot have met very many eligible men.’

‘I do not think Mr Archer wishes to wait that long.’

‘I am not surprised,’ said Minerva drily. ‘You are a very attractive girl and he must know you will command a lot of attention when you make your come-out. Also, it is not just a question of Papa’s approval. Sylvester and your other brothers-in-law have promised to add considerably to your dowry, and they will all naturally expect to approve of your future husband.’

‘Very well,’ said Daphne meekly.

Minerva glanced at her younger sister with
surprise
mixed with amusement. ‘Do not tell me Papa has at last found a meek and biddable daughter.’

‘Oh, I will always do as Papa wishes,’ said Daphne, looking vaguely out to sea. ‘Enough of my affairs,’ she said, turning again to her sister, a frown of worry between her brows. ‘Things do not go well with Annabelle.’

Minerva sighed. ‘Annabelle often appears flighty and sometimes she says hard things, but underneath she is a fine, warm-hearted girl. She also loves her husband very much.’

‘She loves her baby more,’ said Daphne. ‘And such a baby! I do not wish to be cruel, but he is such an angry, exhausting, ugly child. Brabington has been quite driven away from home, and, oh!,
Minerva, worse than that, Annabelle went so far as to flirt openly with one of my beaux.’

‘Well, Annabelle is apt to
appear
to flirt and …’

‘No. She was quite blatant, and Mama too. I was never more shocked.’

‘Mama! You must be funning. No, I see you are not. Who is this paragon of male beauty who has caused such a flutter?’

‘Garfield. Mr Simon Garfield.’

‘I have only seen Mr Garfield once, and very briefly. He has a highly fasionable reputation but does not go about in society much. He seems to prefer the company of his own sex to the exclusion of ours. I cannot remember him as appearing much out of the common way,’ said Minerva who really thought any man other than her husband quite uninteresting.

‘He is rather overbearing and autocratic,’ said Daphne. ‘But he is most kind to animals and
that
must always be a redeeming feature.’

‘Never say he leapt in front of Papa’s horse and saved the fox.’

‘Nothing like that,’ grinned Daphne. She told Minerva the story of Bellsire and Thunderer. Much emboldened by Minerva’s appreciation of the story, Daphne went on to tell Minerva about the day of the Review.

Minerva’s amusement fled and she came to a sudden halt. ‘This will never do,’ she said severely. ‘You must take pains to avoid this Mr Garfield, no matter what. It was fortunate that the weather was so
inclement that society had not time to stop and stare. My dear girl. Your reputation could have been in ruins! No man makes such outrageous advances to a lady. If you had said he had pressed your hand, I would have considered he had gone too far. Your morals shock me! Did you not scream and shout for help?’

Daphne blushed and shook her head.