Friends and Lovers (16 page)

My heart ached to see poor little Ralph crawl back into the saddle, stiffer than before, more hesitant, while Menrod stood, implacable. There was not an ounce of mercy, of yielding, in him. Ralph was his nephew, and he must perform to the Menrod standard, if it killed him.

Mama too made soft sounds of disapproval at the performance going forth.

“If anything happens to him, I will hold
you
responsible,” I said, my voice shrill, riding on the air.

“I wish you will stop making a mountain of a molehill. If you only came here to
discourage
Ralph, it would be better if you had not come at all,” he answered angrily.

“We are not leaving till you let him down from that brute’s back!”

Ralph kept looking and listening, to learn his fate. “Will you get on with it!” Menrod shouted.

My nephew had no choice but to continue the lesson, which had become a lesson in inhumanity. The child was trembling with fright. I waited with Mama just outside the training ring till it was over. It went on for half an hour longer. At the end of that time, I congratulated Ralph, then told Menrod we must leave immediately for home.

“You see I was right,” he boasted. “Ralph can do it. He does not want too much mothering, or he’ll turn into a full-fledged sissy. He needs a firm hand.”

Ralph was beyond hearing, leading his pony back to the stable. He looked so small, so vulnerable, I wanted to run after him and kidnap him away to the cottage. My control broke. I turned on Menrod in a frenzy.

“He is not the only one here who wants a firm hand. It is unconscionable of you to force him to ride at his age, and in this weather. It is a lucky thing for you he was not maimed, or killed. I shall speak to Mr. Doyle about this, and see if he can’t get an injunction to stop you.”

“Miss Harris, don’t make a flaming jackass of yourself,” was his answer.

“Come, Mama. We are leaving now. Good day to you. Goodbye, Gwen.”

We strode off to the front of the house, then had to stand five minutes, waiting till our carriage was sent around. Menrod did not have the common courtesy to accompany us, but went to the stable to bully Ralph some more.

As a consequence of the visit, our ameliorating relationship with Menrod took a turn for the worse. Doyle was perfectly useless to us. He rambled on about motives and so on, in the affair of the riding lesson. Naturally I could not accuse Menrod outright of trying to kill the boy. It was his insensitivity that was in question, his harshness to a minor in his keeping.

Was the animal vicious? Doyle asked, and such stupid questions as that. Finally he decreed that learning to ride was a fit pastime for a child of four, providing that due precautions were taken for his safety. Forcing him to remount an animal who had just thrown him, when he was trembling with fright, was no dereliction of duty, it seemed, providing it was done by Lord Menrod.

Mrs. Pudge, always ready to incline her ear to the wrongdoings of old devil’s owner, declared that a brutish man knoweth not, and if the Lord in His heaven had His wits about Him, the heathen would perish like the beasts.

“Just when I was beginning to think he was reasonable, too,” I fretted.

“Reasonable?” Mama asked, gazing at the enclosed staircase. “No, he was never reasonable, Wendy, but only conning us, to make us give up on the children.”

“Aye, using words smoother than butter and softer than oil, to con you along,” Mrs. Pudge said knowingly, “as that black cat did to my Lady. I don’t like the size of her. She’s walking at an odd gait lately. I do believe she’s increasing. If she is, I’ll disown her, put the daughter of wickedness out from my roof.”

We suffered a spell of bad weather, drizzle that continued for two days instead of working itself into a good downpour to clear the air. It kept callers away, but at least it would keep Ralph from being forced into more lessons, so my mind was easy on that score.

During a respite of the drizzle on the second evening, Mr. Everett came to call, and was told the story of the riding lesson by Mama.

“I have to agree with Menrod,” he said when it was done.

“If you had been there to see him, you would not agree,” Mama said sadly. “The poor wee tyke, shaking in his boots. 'Twas enough to break your heart.”

“It’s common knowledge that the only thing to do after a tumble is to remount at once, or you’ll never do it. The fear goes on growing, the longer you put it off, till in the end it is too big to get over.”

“You forget the ground was wet,” I told him.

“Menrod is a man of sound judgment. He’d not have allowed it if he felt it was dangerous. Those slow-witted lads like young Ralph will often surprise you by being good at sports.”

As Mr. Everett was being more bovine than usual, we soon spoke of other things—a new railing being installed around the upper landing of Oakdene, something with larger, more ornate spindles than those presently in place, at a cost of seventy-eight pounds and nine shillings. Much later in the visit, he asked, “Have you got your tickets to Lady Menrod’s ball yet?”

“No, we have not. Has she sent them out already?” I asked, thinking Everett must have heard the story in town.

“I don’t know that she has. She dropped mine off at the house in person yesterday.”

He related this amazing item with the nonchalance of a socialite. A call from Lady Menrod on Mr. Everett sent my head reeling. What could account for it? “I did not realize you knew her,” Mama said, showing all the incredulity I felt.

“I didn’t, before the call. It was Lady Althea who brought her, to see the picture, you know, that resembles herself.
I
think it does, at least. They both roasted me for saying so, but the eyes and nose are very like, and the full, plump figure.”

“You must have been surprised to see them at your door,” Mama said.

“I was. I asked Lady Althea to come back sometime and see the other pictures, but didn’t half expect she would do it. They took a longish tour through all the rooms, up and down. I think they had been bored to flinders at home, with all the rain. In the end I had to invite them to take luncheon with me. It was no bother, for there is always good food in the house, and I was not going out anywhere.”

“They were eager to see it, having the horses put to in that downpour,” Mama said. She was not happy at the visit. She discerned a scheme to rob me of my beau.

“It surprised me,” he repeated, “but not so much as being asked back to call on them. I am to take tea there tomorrow. Are yourselves included in the party?”

“No, we are not,” I answered, feeling my first niggle of pique—not jealousy, but pique.

“I came to offer you a lift, if you were.”

“Is it to be a large party?” I enquired, with very real curiosity. I did not think Lady Menrod would include Everett in a large party of her friends, yet to invite him to a small party was more flattering.

“I’ve no idea. I’ll let you know after it is over, if you are curious. The ladies like to keep abreast of all the gossip, I know.”

I had not thought to see the day when I had to learn my gossip from a lumber merchant!

He did not remain long. There was no change in his attitude to me, no reason to believe Lady Althea was chasing him or that he was beginning to return the attention to her. It was one of those social oddities that occur in the country, when company is thin and time hanging heavy on everyone’s hands. The ladies had been bored, and gone to pass a day in ogling Oakdene.

They were nice enough to return his hospitality. That was all, and to go on threatening me that I was “losing” a parti in whom I had no real interest was absurd of Mama, and annoying after ten or twelve repetitions. It was enough to put me in a pet, along with the dreary weather and hearing nothing about Gwen and Ralph. The visit had an effect on Mama’s interest in the ball. From wondering how she could avoid it, she now was impatient to receive her card.

It began to seem, after a few days, that we were not going to receive invitations to the ball at all. Several neighbors mentioned having got theirs, while we nodded and implied we would see them there, unable to credit we were being cut. It was surely an oversight. Mrs. Tighe actually brought her card with her. I glanced at it, to see it signed by Lady Menrod. I had nothing against the dowager countess, nor she against me. She would not have left me off her list unless she had been asked to do so by someone close to her. We had not seen Menrod nor heard from him since the day of the riding lesson. It was hard to believe he would be so petty as to exclude us, but impossible not to wonder.

He had sent the children down once with a servant. They came rather late in the afternoon, with orders that they be home for tea. He did not bother to enquire first whether the hour for the visit was convenient. We happened to be having a game of whist with a few neighbors at the time, but I was able to get free from the table. We usually invite four, which brings the total of ladies to six, so that we may each have a turn free to gossip.

I was anxious to hear about Ralph’s riding. It was the first thing I asked him—how his lessons were going on. “I don’t fall any more,” he assured me.

“Uncle Menrod got me a pony, too,” Gwen said happily. “We both ride together now.”

“That’s nice, dear.”

“I want him to take me back to London, but he won’t,” she continued. “We had a good time in London. Will you take me, Auntie?”

“I don’t have a house in London, Gwen. I seldom go there.”

“You must go sometimes.”

“Once in a while, to put up at a hotel.”

“I would love to stay at a hotel,” she said, smiling fondly. She really is a pretty rogue. “I have never stayed at one. Will you take me, the next time you go?”

“If it is possible, I’ll take you both.”

“When?” she demanded.

“When I can. I am not planning a trip soon.”

“Then will you take us to Reading, at least? I have to have a new riding habit.”

“I can do that tomorrow, if it is convenient for you. I have to do some shopping myself.”

“I’ll ask Uncle if we may go.”

“Can I come too?” Ralph was not tardy to ask.

“Of course, goose! You didn’t think the carriage would leave without you, I hope.”

“What will you buy for Ralph?” Gwen asked.

“An iced cone. How would you like that?”

“If you are buying me a bonnet and riding habit, you’ll have to get Ralph more than ice,” she pointed out reasonably.

I had not realized I was to buy the riding habit. I thought I would select it, while Menrod paid, but the sly puss had outwitted me. It would look too skintish to refuse, when she had taken it for an offer. I could not afford to alienate her at this time, when I wanted them in my custody.

“We'll think of something,” I said vaguely. What I thought was that Menrod might prohibit the trip. I would not resent it in the least, as my purse was so close to empty, after hiring two lawyers in two weeks.

Gwendolyn was made much of by our visitors. She was pretty, elegant, not shy to put herself forward. She would coast through life, making friends easily, and using them if they did not look sharp. Ralph was largely ignored, which suited his retiring nature to a T. He was uncomfortable when a few of the ladies tried to talk to him, answering in monosyllables if he could screw himself up to an answer at all.

Their visit lasted one hour exactly. The servant had waited in the kitchen with Mrs. Pudge, who came to tell me the wee ones had to go now. I hoped I might hear something from the servant about the party readying at the Manor, though I would not submit him to a hard quiz, so I took Ralph and Gwen downstairs myself.

“I expect you are all in a tizzy with this ball to prepare, eh, Haskins?” I asked the footman, while Gwen slipped around behind me to speak to Mrs. Pudge.

“Yes, miss,” was all he said. “Your uncle said not to eat before you got home, Miss Gwendolyn,” he called to the minx. She had coaxed an apple tart from Mrs. Pudge, who was putty in her hands. Hettie had always been a prime love of both the Pudges.

“May I please, Auntie, just one tiny little tart?” she asked, then with a laugh stuck the whole thing into her mouth. Mrs. Pudge makes a special dainty tart only an inch and a half in diameter, so this was not so gross an exhibition as it sounds.

“Run along with you, baggage,” I said; then, as Ralph was looking gypped, I sneaked one into his waiting fingers as well. It disappeared in the same fashion, in one bite.

“That girl is a caution,” Haskins said, wagging his head and smiling fondly.

“Don’t tell Uncle,” Gwen said, with one of her sweet smiles.

“I may forget what I saw, if you hurry up,” he agreed.

“I would like another,” Ralph announced through a mouthful of crumbs.

“Take them home before they have demolished the plate. There won’t be any left for our guests,” I told Haskins.

“What time will you call for us tomorrow, Auntie, to go to Reading?” Gwen asked, before leaving.

“Why do you not have Haskins bring you here in the morning? Come early, about nine. The shops are not so busy then.”

“We have to be back to ride at two,” she pointed out.

“You are on a strict timetable, I see.”

“Yes, Uncle Menrod has a theory about it,” she said.

“I’m sure he has. See you at nine.”

They left, while I helped Mrs. Pudge take the trays up to the sitting room.

* * *

Our trip to Reading went off next morning without a hitch. Haskins had the children at the door at nine sharp. “His lordship would like them home for tea,” was the word sent down from the Manor. The timetable theory was flexible enough to allow some bending. I was happy to hear it was not lunch that was the deadline, or it would have been a scrambling expedition to town.

My mother elected to stay at home, in the hope, I believe, of receiving the invitation to the ball in the mail. She was gearing up for quite a fit of the vapors over our being omitted. It was my own plan to ignore it, say nothing, even if I met Lady Menrod or her stepson in town.

We did not meet either of them. Gwen was every bit as finicky as her mother in selecting material for the new habit, and later in choosing a bonnet to suit it. Being so young, she was less aware of prices than Hettie. I suggested green, to set off her gray eyes, or even red, as she was youthful enough to look well in it. She chose blue. I had hoped to eke some small token for Ralph out of my monies, but as Gwen insisted her riding bonnet required a dashing feather, Ralph was lucky to get his iced cone.