Pistols for Two (5 page)

Spurred by this unhandsome taunt, she responded: ‘A very odd notion you must have of me if you suppose I could be
satisfied
by such intelligence! I was never more shocked in my life!’

‘I should hope you had not been! If anything had been needed to prove me right in thinking you wholly unfit for the post of guardian your niece has supplied it!’

‘Well, if it comes to that, you’ve made a sad botch of
your
ward, haven’t you?’ she retorted.

‘I have not the smallest doubt that Arthur was cajoled into this escapade by your niece’s wiles!’

‘To own the truth,’ said Miss Tresilian frankly, ‘nor have I! Lucy has ten times his spirit! There is a want of resolution in him which I can’t but deplore, even though I perfectly understand the cause of it. Poor boy! It must have been hard indeed to have developed strength of character, bullied and browbeaten as he has been almost from infancy!’

‘
Bullied
and
browbeaten?
’ echoed his lordship.

‘I dare say you never knew you were crushing his spirit,’ she offered, in a palliative tone.

‘No! Nor he either, let me tell you! You have only to add that fear of me has driven him into this elopement, and you will have gone your length!’

‘Well, of course it has!’ she said, turning her head, in genuine astonishment, to scan his grim profile.

‘God grant me patience!’ he ejaculated. ‘So you mean to shuffle off the blame on to my shoulders, do you? Well, you won’t do it!
You
are to blame, not I!’

‘
I?
’ she gasped.

‘Yes, you! With your henwitted scheme to carry the girl out of the country! Of all the cork-brained, ill-judged –’

‘This,’ interrupted Miss Tresilian, ‘goes beyond belief! Next you will say that it was I who forbade the marriage!’

‘You were the only person with the authority to do so, at all events!’

‘Indeed? I collect I merely dreamed that you said you would put an end to the project, and warned me not to under-rate your power?’

‘When I said that I gave you credit for having enough sense not to precipitate a crisis which any but a confirmed pea-goose must have foreseen!’

‘No, that is too much!’ she exclaimed. ‘And don’t dare to tell me that you are without power, Iver, because I know very well that you hold Arthur’s purse-strings, and can withhold every penny of his fortune from him!’

‘Don’t be so ridiculous!’ he said irritably. ‘How could I possibly do so? A pretty figure I should cut!’

‘You threatened to do it!’

‘Very likely I may have, but if he believed I meant it he’s a bigger gapeseed than I knew! If he was in earnest, there was nothing I could do to prevent the marriage – eligible enough in the eyes of the world, if not in mine! Had
you
refrained from interfering, I could have handled him: it wasn’t any threat of mine which goaded him into this clandestine start, but
your
determination to carry the girl out of his reach!’

‘Well, of all the wickedly unjust things you have ever said to me, this is without parallel!’ she exclaimed. ‘So I
interfered
! And for what other purpose, Iver, did you call in Green Street than to prevail upon me to do so?’ She saw a slight flush creep into his lean cheek: a sign of discomfiture which afforded her far more gratification than she was prepared to admit. After a tiny pause, she added severely: ‘If there is any virtue in you you’ll own yourself at fault, and beg my pardon!’

That drew a disconcerting reply from him. He glanced at her, fire in his eyes. ‘Oh no! Not again!
Once
I did so – took on myself the blame for a quarrel which was
not
of my making – begged you to forgive –’ He checked himself, and said bitterly: ‘Even Arthur isn’t as big a gudgeon as I was!’

He reined in, for they had reached a toll-gate. She was never more glad to be spared the necessity of answering. While he bought a ticket to open the pikes on the next stage she had time to recover her countenance, and was able to say, quite calmly, as the curricle moved forward: ‘If that man is to be believed, we have certainly gained on them, but they must be a great way ahead still. Where do you expect to overtake them?’

‘Not short of Stamford, unless they meet with some accident.’

They were entering Baldock, and neither spoke again until they had proceeded for some way along the road beyond the town. Lord Iver then demanded abruptly: ‘Why did you never answer me? Did you think it cost me nothing to write that letter?’

She shook her head, a constriction in her throat making it for a moment impossible for her to speak. She overcame it, and said, keeping her eyes lowered: ‘I thought it better not to reply – not to reopen – when it reached me, you see, Mama had suffered the stroke which left her paralysed. You know what our household was at the Manor! My father so dependent on her – Lucy motherless – Clara – well, there can be no need for me to explain why it was useless to suppose that Clara could fill Mama’s place!’

He had listened to her in thunderstruck silence, but at this he said, with suppressed violence: ‘And equally useless for me to tell you that nothing ever ailed Clara but jealousy, and a selfishness I have never seen surpassed! We have quarrelled enough on
that
head!’

She smiled. ‘We have indeed! Must I own that you were right? Perhaps you were – though it would be unjust to deny that her constitution was always sickly.’

‘I told you years ago that she would spoil your life, if she could do it! I learn now that she spoiled mine as well, thanks to your blind, obstinate refusal to credit me with more wit than you had!’

‘Nonsense!’ said Miss Tresilian. ‘You know very well that no two persons could have been less suited than we were! As for spoiled lives, I hope you don’t mean to tell me you’ve been wearing the willow for the past twelve years, because I know very well you haven’t! In fact, if only half the tales I’ve heard are true you’ve never lacked consolation!’

‘Is that what the Bath quizzes say of me? No, I haven’t worn the willow, but one tale you’ve never heard: that I was hanging out for a wife!’

‘Very true, and I think you are wise to remain single. I am persuaded you must have a much more amusing time as a bachelor.’

A muscle quivered at the corner of his mouth. ‘You haven’t altered! How often have I wanted to wring your neck for just such a remark as that!’

‘No doubt! But there is nothing to be gained by discussing what you very rightly called ancient history. We have a more important matter to decide. What’s to be done with those abominable children when we do catch them?’

‘Wring
their
necks!’

‘Quite impractical!
I
have no fancy for Newgate, if you have!’

He laughed, but said: ‘You may at least depend upon my giving Arthur the finest trimming of his life!’

‘I do, and shall be strongly tempted to do the same to Lucy! But it won’t answer, Iver: we shall be obliged to give our consent, and with as good a grace as we may.’

‘Oh, why stop at that? Let us escort them to the anvil!’

She regarded him with misgiving. ‘Iver, don’t, I implore you, get upon your high ropes! You said yourself that you could not stop the marriage if Arthur was in earnest! You can hardly want more proof of that!’

‘I can want no more proof that he hasn’t outgrown his puppyhood! Good God, only a scoundrel or a paper-skulled schoolboy would do such a thing as this!’

‘It’s very bad, of course, but –’

‘And if he, or your hoydenish niece, think they can force my hand, they will very soon learn to know me better!’

‘Yes!’ said Miss Tresilian bitterly. ‘I might have guessed you’d turn mulish, might I not? You always did make bad worse, and you always will!’

***

By the time Stamford was reached, Miss Tresilian was herself so weary that she could only suppose her companion to be made of iron. More than eighty miles had been covered, often at a pace which demanded the strictest concentration, and in six hours of fast driving he had allowed himself only two brief respites. During one of these Miss Tresilian had found the time to swallow a mouthful of ham, and a few sips of scalding coffee, and on this meagre fare she had been obliged to subsist, encouraged by a disagreeable reminder from his lordship that he had warned her how it would be if she insisted on accompanying him. She forgave him for that: he sat as erect as at the start of the journey, his hands as steady and his eyes as watchful, but she knew, without the evidence of the crease between his brows, how tired he must be. No conversation had been held during the past hour; Miss Tresilian, in fact, had fallen into an uneasy doze, and woke up in the yard of the George, demanding to know where she was.

‘Stamford,’ replied Lord Iver, looking down at her. ‘Quite done up?’

‘A little tired – nothing to signify!’

‘I’ll say this for you: you were always full of pluck! Our runaways are not here, but there are two other posting-houses in the town, and several smaller inns. They may well be racking up at one of them for the night.’

‘But it is still daylight!’

‘It will be daylight for some hours yet, but it is nevertheless past six o’clock. If they knew they were being followed no doubt they would go on, but I’ve no reason to believe that they do. They have been travelling at a fair rate, but with no suggestion of flight. Come, let me help you down! You will have time to dine while I am making enquiries at the other houses.’

She agreed to this, but when he left her installed in a private parlour she discovered herself to be too anxious to be hungry. She ordered some tea, however, which revived her, though it drew a sharp rebuke from his lordship, when he presently returned to the George. ‘Don’t scold!’ she begged. ‘It was all I wanted, I promise you. And
you
have eaten nothing!’

‘On the contrary, I had a sandwich and some beer at the Swan.’ His frown deepened. ‘I’ve been unable to get any news of them: they are certainly not in the town. If they changed horses here, no one recalls having seen them – though that’s not wonderful: the ostlers are kept too busy to take particular note of all the travellers who pass through the place.’

Her heart sank, but she said: ‘There’s nothing for it but to go on, then.’

He said roughly: ‘You’ve come far enough! I’ll have that portmanteau of yours carried up to a bed-chamber, and you may remain here. You needn’t be afraid I shan’t catch that pair: I shall, and will bring Lucy to you at once, so don’t argue with me, if you please!’

‘I don’t mean to,’ said Miss Tresilian, tying the strings of her bonnet. ‘Nor do I mean to be abandoned in this very noisy inn!’

‘Now, listen to me, my girl!’ said his lordship, in menacing accents.

‘Go and order the horses to be put-to!’ said Miss Tresilian, unimpressed.

***

No reliable news was to be gained at either of the two first pikes north of Stamford, but at Greetham, where they stopped for a change, an ostler clearly remembered the young lady and gentleman, for he had helped to fig out four lively ’uns for them, and not so many minutes ago neither. He’d suspicioned all along that there was something havey-cavey about them. Argufying, they were, the young gentleman being wishful to put up for the night, and Miss being that set on going on she was ready to nap her bib. Nothing would do for her but to get to Grantham, so off they’d gone.

‘Having made it plain that they were an eloping couple!’ said Miss Tresilian, as they drove away. ‘How Lucy could be so dead to shame – !’

Lord Iver returned no answer, and she sat staring with unseeing eyes at the fading landscape, lost in the gloomiest reflections. From these she was presently recalled by his lordship’s voice, ejaculating: ‘At last!’

The curricle had swept round a bend, and brought into view a post-chaise and four, bowling ahead at a spanking pace. ‘Hand me the yard of tin!’ commanded his lordship grimly.

‘You look after your horses!’ returned Miss Tresilian, already in possession of the long horn. ‘I can sound this quite as well as you can!’

In proof of this statement, she raised the horn to her lips and produced an ear-splitting blast.

‘That should startle them!’ observed his lordship. ‘Oh, my God, of all the infernal
cawkers
– !’

This outburst of exasperation was provoked by the sudden widening of the gap between the two vehicles: the post-boys, instead of making way for the curricle to pass, were springing their horses. ‘Hold on tightly!’ snapped his lordship, following suit.

‘Iver, for heaven’s sake – !’ she uttered, as the curricle swayed and bounded alarmingly.

He paid no heed; and one glance at his face showed her that to suggest that he might just as well, and far more safely, drive behind the chaise until the fugitives realized the folly of trying to escape from him would be a waste of breath. This foolish gesture of defiance had thoroughly enraged him: he was going to pass the chaise at the first opportunity that offered.

Feeling sick with apprehension, Miss Tresilian fixed her eyes on the road, and tried not to speculate on what would happen if some vehicle were to come round one of the bends towards them. My lord had swung out to the right, not yet attempting to pass, but obviously ready to open out his leaders. The road was narrow, and the chaise held obstinately to the centre. They rocked round another bend, and Miss Tresilian saw a straight stretch ahead. It was a little broader, but not broad enough yet, she decided. Then she saw his lordship drop his hands, and shut her eyes, realizing that her last hour had come. Rigid with fright, she awaited the inevitable crash.

‘Good girl!’ said his lordship approvingly.

Her eyes flew open. ‘You don’t mean to say you’ve
done
it?’ she gasped.

‘Of course I’ve done it! What, were you afraid I should lock the wheels? Absurd creature!’ He glanced over his shoulder, saw that the post-boys had reined in their horses to a trot, and checked his own team. In another minute he had brought them to a halt, swinging them across the road to form a barrier. He gave the reins into Miss Tresilian’s hands, and, as the chaise drew up, sprang down, and strode towards it.