Smirke 01 - An Unlikely Hero (20 page)

“And who are
these wretches who defame my brother?”

“You must take
my word as a gentleman that many men and women have suffered at
your brother’s hand. How can you not know it? Every time he walks
into a room half the occupants leave; he’s a social pariah.”

“So the ton do
not care for his violet and lemon scent…sniff…I don’t much care for
yours either.”

Robert’s calm
smile wavered, “There’s no need to get personal Cousin James. I’m
merely professing my concern for the girl’s well being.”

“Are you? I
wonder what would have happened to Joan had her father left her in
your care these past six months. I dare say she’d be holed up in
some forgotten village calling herself Mrs Smith with an increasing
waistline and an appetite for two.”

Robert’s eyes
narrowed, “You question my honour Mr Smirke?”

“Where women
are concerned I doubt you know what the word honour means Mr
Neilson. I’m surprised Agnes survived her youthful summers in your
parents’ home without ending up in a convent.”

“What’s a
convent Papa?”

“Does it have
lots of pudding?”

Blood
thundered through Robert Neilson’s neck, “I have never forced my
attentions on any woman unlike your dear brother. Miss Lark is in
grave danger and you are too blind with family pride to see
it.”

“If you don’t
take your leave Sir, you’ll be in grave danger of being blinded by
my fist.” Agnes calmly sipped her tea and bid a silent farewell to
any hope of her children inheriting a penny from their wealthy
cousin. As she agreed with both men, it was pointless to enter the
fray.

“Someone has
to save the girl.”

“Joan neither
needs nor desires saving Mr Neilson and even if she did John has no
intention of letting her go. My good friend Midas Lovelace caused a
scene in the Pump Room this afternoon by offering one hundred
thousand pounds for the girl’s wardship. A sensible man wouldn’t
turn down that kind of money unless he was in love.”

“Smirke turned
down one hundred thousand pounds? For the girl?”

“I told you;
he loves her.”

“John Smirke
can’t possibly be in love.”

“Look at him.
He’s so overcome by her nearness he can’t even hear us. If that
isn’t love I don’t know what is.”

“The fact your
brother is willing to forego a fortune to legally satisfy his lust
doesn’t prove he’s in love, merely that he’s lost his mind. He’s
clearly insane.”

“I think I
know my brother better than you Mr Neilson.”

“If you say so
Mr Smirke.” Robert Neilson felt jealousy suck at his marrow. How
could Smirke be so damned lucky as to survive Mulgrave’s blade and
find love? It was a travesty of justice. It was a miracle of
biblical proportions. Robert himself had never experienced the
elusive emotion called love and now he had to witness Smirke’s
success? It was degrading. “Thank you for receiving me Agnes, but I
believe I must depart before I forget I’m a gentleman. Do let me
know when you need a partner to practice fisticuffs Mr Smirke. I’d
be happy to go a few rounds.”

“You’re too
kind Mr Neilson. I don’t usually pummel men for pleasure, but I
believe I could make an exception in your case.” Neilson stood and
gave a formal bow, glanced at the couple on the chaise longue and
departed with his habitual calm smile barely in place, unaware that
his purse, seventeenth century pocket watch and good luck charm
were no longer in his possession.

“Is Papa going
to pummel Mr Neilson?”

“May we watch
Mamma?”

“Ladies do not
watch men pummel each other.”

“Cousin Robert
doesn’t like us…sniff.”

“He said we
were horrid Smirkes.”

“I hope Papa
blackens his eyes!”

“Ladies don’t
listen to men mutter under their breath. Eat your bread and butter
and don’t wipe your fingers on the sofa.”

Agnes felt
tingles over scalp as James whispered in her ear, “It’s been ages
since I introduced you as my best friend, Eggs. I miss our secret
adventures, seeing your legs in breeches. I’m sure I could find
some clothes at the pawnshop you could wear. Come and shout curses
at your cousin; it’ll be great fun. I’m going to break his nose for
calling our angels horrid.”

“Having
children enlarged my hips and other parts of my anatomy. I’d be
found out within minutes. Ask your brother if he’s still
hungry.”

“Half the men
at my club look like they’re with child. I’ll get my way. I know
you can’t resist a challenge.”

“Wicked man,
ask your brother if he wants some cake.”

“John, stop
kissing Joan and eat a piece of cake. You don’t want to die of
starvation before you can wed the girl.”

“Huh?” John
jerked upright.

“Stop kissing
Joan’s ear and eat a piece of cake. Is that Peter’s carriage?”

“I wasn’t
kissing her ear. I was trying to have a private conversation.”

“Lying is a
sin. John? Where are you taking Joan? She hasn’t eaten…” The door
slammed shut imprinting John’s irritation on the room. “New love,”
James crossed his legs and leaned back towards his wife, “I’ll
never forget the day you finally admitted you loved me. I thought
I’d faint from the bliss when you finally let me kiss you…”

“Eat your cake
before your nephews come in and lick your plate clean.” James
ignored the crisp words and nibbled his wife’s willing ear until a
knock on the door prohibited his wandering lips.”

***

The door to
James’s study had barely clicked shut and John forgot his cold feet
and aching rump as his starving lips tried to express the strange
pleasant feelings caused by the woman in his arms. Neither heard
the soft knock on the door before it was inched open. “Jean
Sébastien; stop kissing Joan for a moment I need to give you
something. Jean!”

John craned
his neck to glare at his mother, “Don’t you think you’ve caused me
enough grief today? Instead of being half way to London I’ve been
holed up in Bath like some sickly debutante.”

“You’ll be
glad you stayed when you see what we bought you.”

“It can’t
possibly make up for a whole lost day of travel.”

“You may
change your mind when you get your wedding present tomorrow
morning. I think around ten would be an excellent time.”

“We’re leaving
first light; give it to me now or never.”

“Very well,
you can have it now. Perhaps you’ll think more kindly of your
officious Mamma.” Lady Jemima opened her reticule and pulled out a
folded piece of paper. “It’s wrinkled, but that is of no
importance.” She held it out and smiled at her sneering child.
“You’ll love it.”

“You’re giving
me a blasted wrinkled piece of paper?”

“Open le
papier Jean Sébastien or you won’t know where to go tomorrow
morning.”

“I hate
treasure hunts. You know I can never find what I’m supposed to be
looking for. My rump is two stiff aches, my chest aches, my head
aches, my bladder aches, my shoulder aches and my feet are carved
from ice. Just tell me where it is before I die of irritation.”

“Read le
papier.” John grabbed the paper and snatched a quick glance at
Joan. She was smiling at his mother. John kindly exhaled a desire
to shove his mother out of the room and return to kissing the woman
at his side. Another long sigh accompanied the soft rustling of
paper.

“Oh Mamma…”
John’s lips quivered as he looked up at his smiling mother, “…how
did you get that pustule to sell you a marriage license?” Joan
thrust her head over his arm to get site of the miracle. “Get your
head out of the way.” Joan removed her head and proceeded to dance
around the room in celebration.

“William c’est
très persuasif.”

“I don’t have
to go to London.”

“Not unless
you désire to freeze your aching derrière; Peter has arranged your
marriage for tomorrow morning.”

“Oh Mamma…”
The petite woman found her feet dangling briefly in the air, her
cheek warmly saluted and then she was abruptly abandoned. Lady
Jemima sighed with pleasure as John ensnared his giggling bride and
resumed their private tête a tête. She quietly closed the door as
she pondered the odds of her difficult son finding love. It was a
miracle.

Peter Smirke
wiped his lips as he watched his little brother take out his watch
for the third time in two minutes, “Relax John, she’ll b-be down in
a few minutes. Eat your toast. Wedding on an empty stomach is
unwise.”

“Mind your own
children and leave me alone. What is taking them so long? How long
does it take to dress one woman?”

“They’re
dressing a bride. Cosmo, are you a man or a fountain? Stop spitting
tea at Charles.”

“I am a
fountain of life and when I get my hands on a woman…”

John scowled
at his leering nephew, “What a revolting thought. If you wanted to
ruin my breakfast you succeeded.”

“It can’t be
any more revolting than the thought of you naked…poor Joan.” His
four brothers joined him in laughing at their indignant uncle.

“Cosmo!”

“Yes
Papa?”

“Eat!”

“The thought
of Uncle John naked has put me off my food.”

Peter coughed
over his amusement and stood respectfully, “Ah ladies…”

John turned in
his chair, his eyes wide with relief and pleasure on finding his
Joan out of mourning in bright pink silk. Unfolding his sore
muscles, he stood to give his heart more room to pummel his chest.
“Miss Lark, I thought you’d never come down.” Her impulsive deep
curtsey displayed a generous portion of her low cut décolletage
causing John’s mouth to water with thoughts of the afternoon. He
took hold of her outstretched hand, kissed her fingers and
whispered, “Another hour and my little lark will be caged in my
arms forever…”

“Sit down Jean
Sébastien; Joan won’t survive the day on kisses.” John obeyed his
mother without even a scowl, his chest wound throbbing in time with
his ecstatic heart. His slow crooked smile was rewarded with bright
pink cheeks as Joan absently stuffed toast into her mouth.

“Why do lovers
always look so absurd? The thought of looking like that makes me
cringe.”

“Cecil please,
this is not the p-place to air your feelings on romance.”

“Why? They
can’t hear me. I could shoot myself and they wouldn’t blink.”

“That is as
may be Son, but we d-don’t wish to hear your opinion of love.”

“Did you look
at Mamma like that, when you were young?”

Lady Jemima
leaned over and pinched her grandson’s cheek, “Your Papa is a
private man.”

“It’s alright
Mamma. Yes, I made a c-complete fool of myself. Every time I came
home from school she’d b-be in line with the other servants and I’d
b-be in agony until I found her alone doing some chore. I’d stammer
that I wanted to know if she missed me. She’d b-blush and stammer
that she’d b-be sacked if Mamma learned I was making eyes at the
housekeeper’s daughter, but seeing my disappointment she’d
c-concede that she was pleased to see me… I worried for years Mamma
would find out and send my beloved Katie packing…of c-course she
knew all along.”

“I thought
mother fell in love with you the first time she saw you.”

“She
d-d-did…eat your b-b-breakfast.” The Smirkes silently watched their
father struggle to hide his emotions before abruptly rising from
the table and leaving the room.

“You’re a
blockhead Cecil, now you’ve upset Papa.” George punched his brother
in the shoulder to emphasise his point and received an equal blow
in return.

“How was I
supposed to know I’d upset him? I can’t see the future.”

“That’s
because you’re head is a piece of wood. Didn’t you hear Papa crying
in his sleep last night? Wicked Uncle John gets to bed a beautiful
woman and Papa has to share a room with us, of course he’s upset.
You’re an idiot.”

“Boys please.”
The two young men ignored their grandmother and tried to cover
their own grief by throwing angry punches while the three younger
Smirkes numbly stared at the table. Agnes and Lord Belvedere were
the only ones to notice James leave the table to comfort his
brother and the footman set down two plates of toast.

“I’m not
hungry Nana.”

“What’s wrong
Robert? Are you ill?”

“No.”

“I’m not
hungry either.”

“Me
neither…

“Well if
you’ve all finished eating you can come to the church with me and
William. Go get your hats.” Cecil and George followed their younger
siblings out of the room still punching each other. “Jean
Sébastien.” John’s head jerked towards his mother, “The marriage
license, it is in your pocket?”

“No, I threw
it on the fire…of course it’s in my pocket.”

“William and I
are going to leave for the church with the boys. Eat your
breakfast. Your carriage is ordered. Don’t kiss Joan all morning or
you’ll sleep on the sofa tonight.”

“I’m
thirty-three not three Mamma.”

“Are you done
William?”

“Yes.”

“Jean
Sébastien.”

“What?” His
mother ignored the satanic growl and calmly wiped her lips. “Stop
regarding Joan’s eyes and eat your toast.”

John sighed
audibly as the table was deserted leaving him alone with Joan. “I
didn’t think they’d ever leave. Come here and kiss me…please?”
Acres of pink silk rustled cheerfully into his arms wrapping John
in the warm new pleasure. After several long minutes John
reluctantly freed his lips, his crooked smile illustrating his
state of mind. “You’ll never escape your wicked guardian…” John
sealed the promise by pulling Joan close and admiring her throat
with his lips.

“Oh Mr
Smirke…I hope that’s not wicked…I like it.”

Joan giggled
as John moaned into her ear, “In an hour I shall kindly oblige my
wife with as much wickedness as she could possibly desire.” Lost in
another kiss, the couple were deaf to the departure of family
members or the arrival of a coach. The soft cough at John’s elbow
had to be repeated five times before Joan broke free of hungry lips
to find a red faced Frederick standing a few inches away.