The Convenient Marriage (3 page)

‘Sometimes,’ answered his lordship.

The grey eyes sparkled. ‘So do I,’ declared Horatia unexpectedly. ‘N-not really, of course, but with Pelham. He taught me. Charlotte says it is wrong. She is l-like that, you know, and it makes her very impatient with poor P-Pel. And I m-must say I feel a little impatient myself when Lizzie has to be sacrificed. Mama is sorry too, b-but she says we must all feel d-deeply thankful.’ She coloured, and said rather gruffly: ‘It’s v-vulgar to care about Settlements, but you are very rich, are you not?’

‘Very,’ said his lordship, preserving his calm.

‘Yes,’ nodded Horatia. ‘W-well – you see!’

‘I see,’ agreed Rule. ‘You are going to be the Sacrifice.’

She looked up at him rather shyly. ‘It c-can’t signify to you, can it? Except that I know I’m not a Beauty, like L-Lizzie. But I have got the Nose, sir.’

Rule surveyed the Nose. ‘Undoubtedly, you have the Nose,’ he said.

Horatia seemed determined to make a clean breast of her blemishes. ‘And p-perhaps you could become used to my eyebrows?’

The smile lurked at the back of Rule’s eyes. ‘I think, quite easily.’

She said sadly: ‘They won’t arch, you know. And I ought to t-tell you that we have quite given up hope of my g-growing any taller.’

‘It would certainly be a pity if you did,’ said his lordship.

‘D-do you think so?’ Horatia was surprised. ‘It is a great trial to me, I can assure you.’ She took a breath, and added, with difficulty: ‘You m-may have n-noticed that I have a – a stammer.’

‘Yes, I had noticed,’ the Earl answered gently.

‘If you f-feel you c-can’t bear it, sir, I shall quite understand,’ Horatia said in a small, anxious voice.

‘I like it,’ said the Earl.

‘It is very odd of you,’ marvelled Horatia. ‘But p-perhaps you said that to p-put me at my ease?’

‘No,’ said the Earl. ‘I said it because it was true. Will you tell me how old you are?’

‘D-does it matter?’ Horatia inquired forebodingly.

‘Yes, I think it does,’ said his lordship.

‘I was afraid it m-might,’ she said. ‘I am t-turned seventeen.’

‘Turned seventeen!’ repeated his lordship. ‘My dear, I couldn’t do it.’

‘I’m too young?’

‘Much too young, child.’

Horatia swallowed valiantly. ‘I shall grow older,’ she ventured. ‘I d-don’t want to p-press you, but I am thought to be quite sensible.’

‘Do you know how old I am?’ asked the Earl.

‘N-no, but my cousin, Mrs M-Maulfrey, says you are not a d-day above thirty-five.’

‘Does not that seem a little old to you?’ he suggested.

‘Well, it is rather old, perhaps, b-but no one would think you were as much,’ said Horatia kindly.

At that a laugh escaped him. ‘Thank you,’ he bowed. ‘But I think that thirty-five makes a poor husband for seventeen.’

‘P-pray do not give that a thought, sir!’ said Horatia earnestly. ‘I assure you, for my p-part I do not regard it at all. In f-fact, I think I should quite like to marry you.’

‘Would you?’ he said. ‘You do me great honour, ma’am.’ He came towards her, and she got up. He took her hand, and raised it to his lips a moment. ‘Now what is it you want me to do?’

‘There is one very particular thing,’ Horatia confided. ‘I should not c-care to ask it of you, only that we are m-making a bargain, are we not?’

‘Are we?’ said his lordship.

‘But you know w-we are!’ Horatia said. ‘You w-want to marry into m-my Family, don’t you?’

‘I am beginning to think that I do,’ remarked his lordship.

Horatia frowned. ‘I quite understood that that was why you offered for L-Lizzie.’

‘It was,’ he assured her.

She seemed satisfied. ‘And you do not w-want a wife to interfere with you. Well, I p-promise I won’t.’

His lordship looked down at her rather enigmatically. ‘And in return?’

She drew closer. ‘C-could you do something for Edward?’ she begged. ‘I have d-decided that there is only one thing for him, and that is a P-patron!’

‘And – er – am I to be the Patron?’ asked his lordship.

‘Would you m-mind very m-much?’

A muscle at the corner of the Earl’s mouth twitched, but he answered with only the suspicion of a tremor in his voice: ‘I shall be happy to oblige you, ma’am, to the best of my poor endeavour.’

‘Thank you very m-much,’ said Horatia seriously. ‘Then he and Lizzie can be m-married, you see. And you will tell Mama that you would just as soon have me, won’t you?’

‘I may not phrase it quite like that,’ said the Earl, ‘but I will endeavour to make the matter plain to her. But I do not entirely see how I am to propose this exchange without divulging your visit to me.’

‘Oh, you need not m-mind that!’ said Horatia cheerfully. ‘I shall tell her m-myself. I think I had b-better go now. No one knows where I am, and perhaps they m-may wonder.’

‘We will drink to our bargain first, do you not think?’ said the Earl, and picked up a small gilt handbell, and rang it.

A lackey came in answer to the bell. ‘You will bring me –’ the Earl glanced at Horatia – ‘ratafia, and two glasses,’ he said. ‘And my coach will be at the door within ten minutes.’

‘If – if the c-coach is for me,’ said Horatia, ‘it is only a step to South Street, sir.’

‘But I would rather that you permitted me to convey you,’ said his lordship.

The butler brought the ratafia himself, and set the heavy silver tray down on a table. He was dismissed with a nod, and went regretfully. He would have liked to see with his own eyes my lord drink a glass of ratafia.

The Earl poured two glasses, and gave one to Horatia. ‘The bargain!’ he said, and drank heroically.

Horatia’s eyes twinkled merrily. ‘I f-feel sure we shall deal f-famously together!’ she declared, and raised the glass to her lips.

Five minutes later his lordship walked into the library again. ‘Ah – Arnold,’ he said. ‘I have found something for you to do.’

‘Yes, sir?’ said Mr Gisborne, rising.

‘You must get me a Captaincy,’ said Rule. ‘A Captaincy in the – in the 10th Foot, I think, but I am sure you will find out.’

‘A Captaincy in the 10th Foot?’ repeated Mr Gisborne. ‘For whom, sir?’

‘Now, what was the name?’ wondered his lordship. ‘Hawk – Hernshaw – Heron. I rather think it was Heron. For a Mr Edward Heron. Do you know a Mr Edward Heron?’

‘No, sir, I don’t.’

‘No,’ sighed Rule. ‘Nor do I. It makes it very awkward for us, but I have great faith in you, Arnold. You will find out all about this Edward Heron.’

‘I’ll try, sir,’ replied Mr Gisborne.

‘I am afraid I give you a deal of trouble,’ apologized his lordship, preparing to depart. At the door he looked back. ‘By the way, Arnold, I think you may be under some slight misapprehension. It is the youngest Miss Winwood who does me the honour of accepting my hand.’

Mr Gisborne was startled. ‘Miss Charlotte Winwood, sir? The youngest Miss Winwood, I believe, is scarcely out of the schoolroom.’

‘Certainly not Miss Charlotte Winwood,’ said the Earl. ‘I have it on excellent authority that nothing would induce Miss Charlotte to marry me.’

‘Good God, my lord!’ said Mr Gisborne blankly.

‘Thank you, Arnold. You comfort me,’ said his lordship, and went out.

The youngest Miss Winwood’s return to South Street was witnessed by both her sisters from the windows of the withdrawing-room. Her absence had certainly been remarked but since the porter was able to inform the rather agitated governess that Miss Horatia had gone out attended by her maid, no great concern was felt. It was odd of Horatia, and very wayward, but no doubt she had only stolen out to buy the coquelicot ribbons she had coveted in a milliner’s window, or a chintz patch for a gown. This was Elizabeth’s theory, delivered in her soft, peaceable voice, and it satisfied Lady Winwood, lying upon the sopha with her vinaigrette to hand.

The appearance of a town coach, drawn by perfectly matched bays with glittering harness, did not occasion more than a fleeting interest until it became apparent that this opulent equipage was going to draw up at the door of No. 20.

Charlotte exclaimed: ‘Lord, who can it be? Mama, a caller!’ She pressed her face against the window, and said: ‘There is a crest on the panel, but I cannot distinguish – Lizzie, I believe it is Lord Rule!’

‘Oh no!’ Elizabeth fluttered, pressing a hand to her heart.

By this time the footman had sprung down, and opened the coach door. Charlotte grew pop-eyed. ‘It’s Horry!’ she gasped.

Lady Winwood clutched the vinaigrette. ‘Charlotte, my nerves!’ she said in a fading voice.

‘But, Mama, it is!’ insisted Charlotte.

Elizabeth had a premonition. ‘Oh, what can she have been doing?’ she said, sinking into a chair, and growing quite pale. ‘I hope nothing – nothing dreadful!’

Impetuous footsteps were heard on the stairs; the door was opened urgently, and Horatia stood before them, flushed and bright-eyed, and swinging her hat by its ribbon.

Lady Winwood’s hands fumbled with her Medici scarf. ‘Dearest, the draught!’ she moaned. ‘My poor head!’

‘Pray, Horry, shut the door!’ said Charlotte. ‘How can you bounce so when you know how shattered Mama’s nerves are?’

‘Oh, I am sorry!’ Horatia said, and carefully shut the door. ‘I forgot. L-Lizzie, everything is settled, and you shall m-marry Edward!’

Lady Winwood was moved to sit up. ‘Good God, the child’s raving! Horatia, what – what have you been doing?’

Horatia tossed the cloak aside, and plumped down on the stool beside her mother’s sopha. ‘I’ve b-been to see Lord Rule!’ she announced.

‘I knew it!’ said Elizabeth, in the voice of Cassandra.

Lady Winwood sank back upon her cushions with closed eyes. Charlotte, observing her alarming rigidity, shrieked: ‘Unnatural girl! Have you no consideration for our dearest Mama? Lizzie, hartshorn!’

The hartshorn, the vinaigrette, and some Hungary Water applied to the temples restored the afflicted Lady Winwood to life. She opened her eyes and found just strength to utter: ‘What did the child say?’

Charlotte, fondly clasping her mother’s frail hand, said: ‘Mama, do not agitate yourself, I beg of you!’

‘You n-need not be agitated, M-mama,’ Horatia told her penitently. ‘It is quite true that I’ve b-been to see Lord Rule, but –’

‘Then all is at an end!’ said Lady Winwood fatalistically. ‘We may as well prepare to enter the Debtors’ Prison. I am sure I do not mind for myself, for my Days are Numbered, but my beautiful Lizzie, my sweetest Charlotte –’

‘M-mama, if only you w-would listen to me!’ broke in Horatia. ‘I have explained everything to L-Lord Rule, and –’

‘Merciful heavens!’ said Elizabeth. ‘Not – not Edward?’

‘Yes, Edward. Of course I told him about Edward. And he is n-not going to marry you, Lizzie, but he p-promised he would be Edward’s P-patron instead –’

Lady Winwood had recourse to the vinaigrette again, and desired feebly to be told what she had ever done to deserve such calamity.

‘And I explained how n-nothing would induce Charlotte to m-marry him, and he did not seem to m-mind that.’

‘I shall die,’ said Charlotte with resolution, ‘of Mortification!’

‘Oh, Horry dear!’ sighed Elizabeth, between tears and laughter.

‘And I asked him,’ concluded Horatia triumphantly, ‘if he would marry m-me instead. And he is g-going to!’

Her relatives were bereft of speech. Even Lady Winwood apparently considered that the situation had gone beyond the powers of her vinaigrette to mend, for she allowed it to slip from her hand to the floor while she stared in a bemused way at her youngest-born.

It was Charlotte who found her voice first. ‘Horatia, do you say that you had the Indelicacy, the Impropriety, the – the Forwardness, to ask Lord Rule to marry you?’

‘Yes,’ said Horatia staunchly. ‘I had to.’

‘And – and –’ Charlotte groped for words – ‘he consented to – to marry you in place of Lizzie?’

Horatia nodded.

‘He cannot,’ said Charlotte, ‘have noticed the Stammer.’

Horatia put up her chin. ‘I s-spoke to him about the S-stammer, and he said he l-liked it!’

Elizabeth rose up from her chair and clasped Horatia in her arms. ‘Oh, why should he not? Dearest, dearest, never could I permit you to sacrifice yourself for me!’

Horatia suffered the embrace. ‘Well, to tell you the truth, Lizzie, I would like to m-marry him. But I c-can’t help wondering whether you are quite sure you d-don’t want to?’ She searched her sister’s face. ‘D-do you really like Edward better?’

‘Oh, my love!’

‘Well, I c-can’t understand it,’ said Horatia.

‘It is not to be supposed,’ stated Charlotte flatly, ‘that Lord Rule was in earnest. Depend upon it, he thinks Horry a Mere Child.’

‘N-no, he does not!’ said Horatia, firing up. ‘He w-was in earnest, and he is c-coming to tell M-mama at three this afternoon.’

‘I beg that no one will expect me to face Lord Rule!’ said Lady Winwood. ‘I am ready to sink into the ground!’

‘Will he come?’ demanded Charlotte. ‘What irremediable harm may not Horry’s impropriety have wrought? We must ask ourselves, will Lord Rule desire to ally himself with a Family one of whose members has shown herself so dead to all feelings of Modesty and Female Reserve?’

‘Charlotte, you shall not say that!’ said Elizabeth with unwonted stringency. ‘What should he think but that our dearest is but an impulsive child?’

‘We must hope it,’ Charlotte said heavily. ‘But if she has divulged your attachment to Edward Heron I fear that all is at an end. We who know and value dear Horry do not notice her blemishes, but what gentleman would engage to marry her in place of the Beauty of the Family?’

‘I thought of that myself,’ admitted Horatia. ‘He s-says he thinks he will grow used to my horrid eyebrows quite easily. And I will t-tell you something, Charlotte! He said it would be a p-pity if I became any taller.’

‘How mortifying it is to reflect that Lord Rule may have been amusing himself at the expense of a Winwood!’ said Charlotte.

But it seemed that Lord Rule had not been amusing himself. At three o’clock he walked up the steps of No. 20 South Street, and inquired for Lady Winwood.

In spite of her dramatic refusal to face the Earl, Lady Winwood had been induced to await him in the withdrawing-room, fortified by smelling-salts, and a new polonaise with tobine stripes which had arrived from her dressmaker’s just in time to avert a nervous collapse.

Her interview with his lordship lasted for half an hour, at the end of which time the footman was despatched to inform Miss Horatia that her presence in the withdrawing-room was desired.

‘Aha!’ cried Horatia, shooting a wicked glance at Charlotte, and springing to her feet.

Elizabeth caught her hands. ‘Horry, it is not too late! If this arrangement is repugnant to you, for Heaven’s sake speak, and I will throw myself upon Lord Rule’s generosity!’

‘Repugnant? S-stuff!’ said Horatia, and danced out.

‘Horry, Horry, at least let me straighten your sash!’ shrieked Charlotte.

‘Too late,’ Elizabeth said. She clasped her hands to her breast. ‘If I could be assured that this is no Immolation upon the Altar of Sisterly Love!’

‘If you wish to know what I think,’ said Charlotte, ‘Horry is very well pleased with herself.’

Horatia, opening the door into the withdrawing-room, found her mother actually upon her feet, the smelling-salts lying forgotten on an ormolu table by the fire. In the middle of the room Rule was standing, watching the door, one hand, with a great square sapphire glowing on it, resting on a chair-back.

He looked very much more magnificent and unapproachable in blue velvet and gold lacing than he had seemed in his riding habit, and for a moment Horatia surveyed him rather doubtfully. Then she saw him smile and was reassured.

Lady Winwood swam towards her and embraced her. ‘My dearest!’ she said, apparently overcome. ‘My lord, let my treasured child answer you with her own lips. Horatia love, Lord Rule has done you the honour to request your hand in marriage.’

‘I t-told you he was going to, M-mama!’ said Horatia incorrigibly.

‘Horatia – I beg of you!’ implored the long-suffering lady. ‘Your curtsy, my love!’

Horatia sank obediently into a curtsy. The Earl took her hand, as she rose, and bowed deeply over it. He said, looking down at her with a laugh in his eyes: ‘Madam, may I keep this little hand?’

Lady Winwood heaved a tremulous sigh, and wiped away a sympathetic tear with her handkerchief.

‘P-pretty!’ approved Horatia. ‘Indeed you m-may, sir. It is very handsome of you to give me the p-pleasure of having you p-propose for me.’

Lady Winwood looked round apprehensively for her salts, but perceiving that his lordship was laughing, changed her mind. ‘My baby…!’ She said indulgently: ‘As you see, my lord, she is all unspoiled.’

She did not leave the newly-plighted pair alone, and the Earl presently took his leave with equal correctness. The front door had barely closed behind him before Lady Winwood had clasped Horatia in a fond embrace. ‘Dearest child!’ she said. ‘You are very, very fortunate! So personable a man! Such delicacy!’

Charlotte put her head round the door. ‘May we come in, Mama? Has he really offered for Horry?’

Lady Winwood dabbed at her eyes again. ‘He is everything that I could wish for! Such refinement! Such ton!’ Elizabeth had taken Horatia’s hand, but Charlotte said practically: ‘Well, for my part, I think he must be doting. And repulsive as the thought is, I suppose the Settlements…?’

‘He is all that is generous!’ sighed Lady Winwood.

‘Then I’m sure I wish you joy, Horry,’ said Charlotte. ‘Though I must say that I consider you far too young and heedless to become the wife of any gentleman. And I only pray that Theresa Maulfrey will have enough proper feeling to refrain from chattering about this awkward business.’

It did not seem at first as though Mrs Maulfrey would be able to hold her tongue. Upon the announcement of the betrothal she came to South Street, just as her cousins knew she would, all agog to hear the whole story. She was palpably dissatisfied with Elizabeth’s careful tale of ‘a mistake’, and demanded to know the truth. Lady Winwood, rising for once to the occasion, announced that the matter had been arranged by herself and his lordship, who had met Horatia and been straightway captivated by her.

With this Mrs Maulfrey had to be content, and after condoling with Elizabeth on having lost an Earl only to get a lieutenant in exchange, and with Charlotte on being left a spinster while a chit from the schoolroom made the match of the season, she departed, leaving a sense of relief behind her, and a strong odour of violet scent.

Charlotte opined darkly that no good would come of Horatia’s scandalously contrived marriage.

But Charlotte was alone in her pessimism. A radiant Mr Heron, fervently grasping both Horatia’s hands, thanked her from the heart, and wished her happiness. Mr Heron had had the honour of meeting Lord Rule at an extremely select soirée in South Street, and his lordship had roused himself to take the young man aside and talk to him of his future. Mr Heron had no hesitation in declaring the Earl to be a very good sort of a man indeed, and no further remarks concerning his reputation or his advanced years were heard to pass his lips. Elizabeth, too, who had been forced to nerve herself to meet her erstwhile suitor, found the ordeal shorn of its terrors. My lord kissed her hand, and as he released it said with his slight, not unpleasing drawl: ‘May I hope, Miss Winwood, that I am no longer an ogre?’

Elizabeth blushed, and hung her head. ‘Oh – Horry!’ she sighed, a smile trembling on her lips. ‘Indeed, my lord, you were never that.’

‘But I owe you an apology, ma’am,’ he said solemnly, ‘for I made you “dreadfully unhappy”.’

‘If we are to talk of apologies, sir – ! You, who have been all kindness!’ She lifted her eyes to his face, and tried to thank him for what he would do for Mr Heron.

Apparently he did not choose to be thanked; he put it aside with his lazy laugh, and somehow she could not go on. He stayed by her for a few minutes, and she had leisure to observe him. Later she told Mr Heron seriously that she thought Horry might be very happy.

‘Horry is happy,’ replied Mr Heron, with a chuckle.

‘Ah yes, but you see, dearest, Horry is only a child. I feel – I feel anxiety, I won’t conceal from you. Lord Rule is not a child.’ She puckered her brow. ‘Horry does such things! If he will only be gentle with her, and patient!’

‘Why, love,’ said Mr Heron, humouring her, ‘I don’t think you need to put yourself about. His lordship is all gentleness, and I don’t doubt will have patience enough.’

‘All gentleness,’ she repeated. ‘Indeed he is, and yet – do you know, Edward, I think I might be afraid of him? Sometimes, if you do but notice, he has a trick of closing his lips that gives to the whole face an air of – I must say inflexibility, quite foreign to what one knows of him. But if he will only come to love Horry!’

No one but Miss Winwood was inclined to indulge in such questionings, least of all Lady Winwood basking in the envy of her acquaintance. Everyone was anxious to felicitate her; everyone knew what a triumph was hers. Even Mr Walpole, who was staying in Arlington Street at the time, came to pay her a morning visit, and to glean a few details. Mr Walpole’s face wore an approving smile, though he regretted that his god-daughter should be marrying a Tory. But then Mr Walpole was so very earnest a Whig, and even he seemed to think that Lady Winwood was right to disregard Rule’s political opinions. He set the tips of his fingers together, crossing one dove-silk stockinged leg over the other, and listened with his well-bred air to all Lady Winwood had to say. She had a great value for Mr Walpole, whom she had known for many years, but she was careful in what she told him. No one had a kinder heart than this thin, percipient gentleman, but he had a sharp nose for a morsel of scandal, and a satiric pen. Let him but get wind of Horatia’s escapade, and my Lady Ossory and my Lady Aylesbury would have the story by the next post.