False Colours (30 page)

‘I’ll do that, but you won’t need your cards, and you won’t need Challow. You’re not going to Brighton, so don’t think it! For one thing, we can’t have two Denvilles at large—and one of them with his arm in a sling! For another, you’re in no case to be jauntering about. I’ll go, if you’ll tell me exactly what you want me to say to Silver-dale, and how I’m to redeem the brooch. If it’s by a draft on the Bank, can you write it?’

‘I should think I might be able to, but it isn’t. By rag-money, because I am acting on Mama’s behalf, and it is
she
who is to redeem the brooch. I’ve got a roll of soft in my nightbag, and Fimber can bring it to you tomorrow. Kester, will you do it for me? I ought not to permit you to, but by now Brighton is probably as full as it can hold of people who know us, and I do see that it won’t do for me to be in two places at once—and in
one
of them with a broken shoulder! That’s the sort of thing that
always
gets to be known! And I dare say,’ he added, in a thoughtful tone, ‘that you know much better than I do how to force your way into royal residences!’

‘One of my chief duties!’ agreed Kit. ‘Sit down again while I put on some clothes, and I’ll go with you to Pinny’s cottage, and put you to bed. You can give me your roll of soft, too.’

‘You’d much better go to bed yourself,’ said Evelyn, sitting down on the arm of the chair. ‘I can manage very well, you know. But I’d liefer be undressed by you than Pinny—and we’ve the devil of a lot to discuss still!’

‘We aren’t going to discuss anything tonight,’ said Kit, tossing his dressing-gown on to the bed. ‘Too late—and you’re worn to a bone, Eve!’

‘Oh, no! Just a trifle out of curl still, that’s all! Shall I go and wake Mama up?’

‘No, don’t! You’d stay talking to her till daylight. I’ll tell her first thing, and I should think she’ll be at Pinny’s a good hour before breakfast!’

‘No, no Kester! Mama don’t leave her room until an hour
after
breakfast!’

‘She does when we have our Aunt Emma staying with us!’ replied Kit, grinning, as he stepped into a pair of breeches. ‘My aunt is an early riser! Did Pinny tell you that we are enjoying the rare felicity of entertaining her, and my uncle, and our beloved cousin?’

‘She did! Also that Ripple is one of the party! What the devil do you mean by inviting that bag-pudding to Ravenhurst?’ demanded Evelyn.

‘I didn’t: it was Mama’s doing—but I’ve no objection. He’s not such a bag-pudding as we were used to think, you know. He and Cressy are the only ones—other than Fimber and Challow, of course—who have yet found me out! You must teach me your way of opening a snuff-box, Eve! I made a mull of that—and the snuff in it was dry!’

‘Oh,
shame!
’
Evelyn exclaimed. He produced his snuffbox from his pocket, and flicked it open. ‘Thus!’

‘Oh, very deedy!’ said Kit approvingly. ‘Lefthanded, too!’

‘Good God, twin, I
never
use my right hand!’ Evelyn said, shocked.

Kit chuckled, but said, as he knotted a handkerchief round his neck: ‘Why do you hold the old fellow in such dislike? I know we were used to think him a bobbing-block, but there’s no harm in him that I can discover; and you must own that he’s good-natured!’

‘He makes Mama ridiculous!’ Evelyn said resentfully.

‘Oh, I don’t know that! He may be barrel-bellied, but he’s a tremendous swell! When you think of the position he’s held ever since
I
can remember, and his wealth, which I understand to be staggering, it’s more of a triumph for Mama, to have kept him tied to her apron-strings all these years!’ said Kit cheerfully. ‘I’ll tell you this, Eve! I’d liefer by far have him dangling after her than one or two of the other insinuating court cards I saw in Mount Street! That fellow, Louth, for one! If ever I saw a loose-screw—! I’d have given something to have tipped him a settler!’

Evelyn said quickly: ‘Yes, so would I, but there’s nothing in it, Kester! There has never been anything since we were children, when she was so lonely, and unhappy—she told me herself, begging me not to judge her harshly!
I
judge her harshly—!’

Kit looked across at him, a question in his eyes. ‘Matlock?’

‘Yes. Didn’t you know?’

Kit shook his head. ‘No. That is, I’ve sometimes wondered, looking back, and remembering things that happened then. Poor little Mama! How should either of us judge her, who have had
all
her love? Did my uncle know?’

‘Can you doubt it?’ said Evelyn savagely.

‘I suppose not. Well, that settles it! Whatever else we may do to bring her about, we will
not
approach him in the matter!’

‘I should rather think not! But, Kester—’ He broke off, looking at Kit with a remorseful gleam in his eyes. ‘I wish I hadn’t told you that! I can’t think how I came to do so, except that I didn’t recollect that you’ve been away since we came down from Oxford. It doesn’t seem like that, does it? I wish you will forget I told you: you may, you know!’ The remorse faded, his irrepressible smile leaping into his eyes. ‘
She
has done so! Of course, if anything were to happen to recall it to her mind, she would remember, but not otherwise!
For, after all, dearest
,’
he continued, in exact and loving imitation of his wayward parent, ‘
it happened a very long time ago, and crying over spilt milk is such a melancholy thing to do!
’

16

Lady Denville did not, after all, visit her prodigal son before breakfast, being strongly urged by Kit not to do so, on the grounds that she would in all probability wake him from a deep sleep, induced partly by exhaustion, and partly by a posset brewed by Nurse Pinner from some recipe known only to herself.

Kit had visited his mama while she was still attired in her filmy dressing-gown. The stately Miss Rimpton was deftly arranging her burnished locks
a la Tite
,
and although she might be said, by the slight curtsy she dropped him, to have acknowledged the right of my lady’s son to intrude upon his mama’s toilet, her face remained set in lines of austere disapproval. Lady Denville might welcome his supposed lordship with cordiality, but in Miss Rimpton’s opinion no gentleman, however nearly related, should be permitted to set eyes on her until she had passed out of her dresser’s expert hands. She said repressively: ‘One moment, my lady, if you please!’ and went on pinning up her mistress’s hair in an unhurried way which was designed to put Kit in his place. It succeeded very well, since when she presently withdrew, having desired her ladyship to ring the bell when she should be ready to receive her further services, he exclaimed: ‘You know, that woman frightens me to death, Mama!’

‘Yes, isn’t she odious?’ agreed Lady Denville. ‘But a positive
genius!
What is it you want, dearest? Don’t tell me something dreadful has happened!’

‘Not a bit of it!’ he replied, quizzing her. ‘Can’t you guess?’

‘No, wicked one! How should I—Kit! You don’t mean—Oh, is it
Evelyn
?’
She flew up out of her chair, as he nodded. ‘Oh, thank God! Where is he? When did he arrive?’

‘Last night, after we had all gone to bed. He let himself in with Pinny’s key. He wanted to come and wake you, but I wouldn’t allow him to do so.’

‘Oh, Kit, how could you? You must have
known
I should have been only too glad to have been awakened!’

‘Yes, love, I did, but I also knew that if he did wake you it would be hours before I could drag him off to bed! Which I was determined to do, because he’s not in very plump currant yet. Nothing to alarm you!—He overturned his phaeton, broke his shoulder and a couple of ribs, and seems to have suffered a pretty severe concussion.’

‘Oh, my poor, poor darling!’ she cried. ‘Where is he? Tell me instantly, Kit!’

‘He’s with Pinny. I went back with him there in the small hours, to help him to undress, and I promise you she’s taking good care of him!’

‘Yes, yes, of course she is, but I must go to him at once! Ring the bell for Rimpton, dearest! You must make my excuses to your aunt—say I have the headache, and am still in bed! Yes, and the quails! Dawlish procured them from Brighton, because Bonamy particularly likes them, but so does Evelyn, and perhaps he might be tempted to eat them, even if he fancies nothing else. So tell Dawlish to put two of them in a basket, with some asparagus, and—’

But at this point Kit intervened, representing to her very kindly, but with considerable firmness, firstly, that Evelyn’s presence must remain a secret; secondly, that any such order would inevitably lead to his discovery; thirdly, that this difficulty would
not
be overcome by telling Dawlish that the quails and the asparagus were for Nurse Pinner’s consumption; and fourthly, that he had been strictly enjoined by Nurse not to let anyone disturb Evelyn until he had had his sleep out. ‘So sit down again, Mama, and let me tell you what happened to Evelyn!’ he said. ‘You will be able to stay with him much longer, if you go down
after
breakfast, for you can tell my aunt that you are obliged to visit Pinny, because she’s out of sorts, and no one will think it in the least odd of you. Besides, if I know Evelyn, he’ll want to be shaved before he receives visitors! I sent Fimber down to the cottage, with some of his gear, an hour ago, so with both Pinny
and
Fimber to cosset and scold him you may be very sure he won’t be neglected!’

‘He will need me to protect him!’ she said, laughing.

However, she did sit down again; and Kit embarked on the task of recounting a slightly expurgated version of his twin’s adventures. ‘For you’ll do it much better than I could, Kester!’ had said Evelyn coaxingly.

This confidence was not misplaced. Mr Fancot, bred to diplomacy, omitted all reference to Tunbridge Wells; slid gracefully over the peculiar behaviour of his twin in having shaken off his devoted groom; and managed to make Lady Denville so impatient to learn the exact circumstances of the accident that it never occurred to her to wonder what could have induced Evelyn to have chosen so roundabout a way to London in preference to the direct pike-road which he could have rejoined, after his visit to John-Coachman, merely by retracing his route for a couple of miles to Nutley. Long before Kit ventured to introduce Miss Patience into his recital, her ladyship was so brimful of gratitude to Mrs Askham for the tender care she had lavished upon Evelyn that it seemed doubtful whether she would be able to restrain her impulsive desire to have herself driven to Woodland House before she had even set eyes on Evelyn. ‘How can I wait to thank her?’ she demanded, tears sparkling in her eyes. ‘How can I ever repay her? Oh, she must be the noblest creature alive! But for her he might have
died
,
Kit!’

While he did not share this extreme view of the case, Kit was very ready to encourage it, and to slip in a word or two designed to imbue Lady Denville with the conviction that in Mr Askham she would discover a gentleman of culture, and respectable ancestry. She said she had no doubt at all that he and his wife were excellent persons.

She was not in the least surprised to learn that Evelyn had forgotten to assure himself that his card-case did, in fact, contain some cards: it was just the sort of mischance, she said, that might be depended upon to overtake one at precisely the wrong moment; and she found nothing to wonder at in Evelyn’s having asserted that his name was Evelyn, rather than Denville. ‘For, you know, dearest, a great many people
do
call him Evelyn! I think, perhaps, it is because he is that
kind
of man, and so very unlike your father, whom no one ever addressed as William! Do you recall that before Papa died it was only the merest acquaintances who called Evelyn Martinhoe? But, oh, Kit, if only the Askhams had known that he was Denville! They must have sent a message instantly, and you need never have pretended
you
were Denville, for no one could have expected Evelyn to attend a dinner-party when he was out of his senses! Oh, dear, Kit, I meant it for the best, but only think what has come of it! Try as I will, I cannot feel the least degree of certainty that Cressy won’t recognize the difference between you! Even if I could hit upon a way of accounting for his suddenly being obliged to keep his arm in a sling! So, instead of
rescuing
him, I have very likely
ruined
him!’

Courageously facing the worst of his task, Mr Fancot said: ‘No, Mama, you haven’t. I was about to tell you that he no longer wishes to marry Cressy. The fact is—’

She interrupted him, demanding in a voice of deep foreboding: ‘Who is it?’

‘It’s Miss Askham, Mama. Evelyn has fallen tail over top in love with her, and it’s she he means to marry, I shall leave it to him to tell you about her, but she seems to be a—a most unexceptionable girl!’

‘Oh,
no
,
Kit!’ she uttered imploringly. ‘When he has already
offered
for Cressy! Dear one,
don’t
,
I
beg of you, imagine that I mean to pinch at him, for no one knows better than I do that it is impossible to find a fault in
either
of you—indeed, I have always been so very sorry for
other
parents whose sons are so sadly inferior to mine!—but I cannot but think it a
pity
that Evelyn should fall in love
quite
so often, and nearly always with such ineligible girls!’

‘Yes, Mama,’ he agreed, regarding her in affectionate amusement. ‘But consider how impossible it would be to find a girl in any way worthy of either of us!’

‘Now you are being absurd!’ said her ladyship, with great dignity.