The Sergeant Major's Daughter (11 page)

8

Sir Peregrine’s going seemed to entail an even greater upheaval than his arrival.

His genial, good-natured presence was sorely missed. Amaryllis soon fell into a fit of the blue megrims; she sighed a lot and complained incessantly of the inclement weather and of the drafts. In this, at least, she was justified, for in spite of numerous fires kept halfway up the chimneys, the drafts whistled persistently through the vaulted hall and up the grand staircase; they wheezed through the window cracks and under bedchamber doors to flirt with the hangings.

Her complaints embraced Stapleforth’s lack of amenities—no assembly rooms, no theater, not so much as a lending library. Her headaches became more frequent, and when the Earl finally lost patience and spoke sharply to her one evening, she burst into tears and fled the table.

Behind her, an uncomfortable silence reigned. Felicity, uncertain whether to follow her cousin or stay, was impatient with both parties; with Amaryllis for carrying on in a manner calculated to irritate her brother-in-law, and with the Earl for his easily provoked intolerance.

He said austerely, “I apologize for precipitating one of my sister-in-law’s tantrums, Miss Vale. It was clumsy of me, when I am well aware what must be the object of these frequent displays of histrionics.”

“Do they have an object, my lord?” Felicity feigned innocence and received a hard stare for her pains.

“I am fully aware that before my uncle departed he fostered certain aspirations within Amaryllis
... that she might, in fact, go to London for the season. Since I hold the purse strings, I imagine she is hoping to convince me that she is in sore need of a change.”

“Then put her out of her misery, my lord, and tell her she may go.”

Stayne raised a haughty eyebrow. “I beg your pardon?”

“Oh, forgive me. Of course, it is not for me to presume to offer an opinion.”

“I don’t recall you have ever let that stop you!” he said dryly.

“Well, you obviously mean to let Amaryllis go to London
...”

“Do I? Why should I?”

“Because she is a fish out of water down here in the country. And because it will make her very happy,” she finished simply.

The Earl paused, his glass halfway to his lips, and surveyed her over the rim. “And that seems to you sufficient reason?”

“I cannot think of a better one, sir. Can you?”

He raised the glass to her with the ghost of a smile. “No, Miss Vale. Offhand, I cannot.”

And so, before the Earl set out for Ascot two days later, he informed Amaryllis that she might go to London in the spring and that she might charge all expenses to him.

Amaryllis, overcome by his sudden generosity and mildness of manner, began to stammer incoherent thanks, but was cut short with the recommendation that she direct any thanks toward her cousin.

Headaches forgotten, she rushed up to Felicity’s room
where she grabbed her startled cousin by the waist and waltzed her recklessly around until, in the confined space, they collapsed in a heap on the bed. Amaryllis disentangled herself first and sat up.

“Only think of it, Fliss! London! For the whole season! Oh, I cannot believe it!” She fell at once to planning her wardrobe. “I shall need new dresses ... I declare, I haven’t a stitch to wear! What a happy coincidence that I had those new French journals from Lucinda ... they have the very latest fashions
!”

Felicity, still catching her breath, protested that she had whole cupboards full of beautiful clothes, an observation which drew a charming moue.

“Oh, but they are all quite old! A fine thing it would be an I appeared as a frump!”

Felicity gurgled with laughter. “A physical impossibility, my dear. You could never look other than wholly ravishing!”

Amaryllis accepted the compliment without demur. “Well, I am determined to be of the first stare. Max has been quite astonishingly generous! What did he mean about directing my thanks to you?”

“Did he say that? What an extraordinary man he is! I simply suggested that it would be a good idea for you to go to London, with little hope that he would take note.”

“Well, he has—and I do thank you, dear Fliss. Will Ester help with the sewing, do you think? She is so much busier these days.”

“I’m sure she will. I’ll help, too.”

“You are much too good to me,” said Amaryllis, with unusual perception. “I daresay you are quite as much in need of a change as I.” Her eyes brightened. “Come to London with me. You spend far too much time slaving over those wretched children—it really isn’t necessary, you know. I’m sure Ester could run the school
...
and you’ve made your point with Stayne—he has long since ceased to think of you as hanging out for favors.”

Felicity winced at the unfortunate choice of words.

“Thank you, but I would rather not trade on his lordship’s good nature. Besides, I enjoy my school—and now that Ester is become so adept, I am able to devote more of my time to the backward children.”

“Oh well, as you please.” Amaryllis gave an impatient shrug, unable and unwilling to understand such odd compulsions. The boy of Ester’s, for instance. The child was repulsive! How could Felicity bear to have him follow her around with his peculiarly vacant stare! She shuddered.

While Lord Stayne was away, Jamie’s tutor arrived to take up his position. The Reverend Aloysius Burnett was a shy, angular young man whose boney nose and finger ends seemed to be forever pinched bright pink by the cold. He came with the highest references and settled into the household with such gentle unobtrusiveness that Felicity at first doubted his ability to handle a boy as high-spirited as Jamie. However, it quickly became apparent that his gentleness cloaked a firmness of purpose allied to a keen intellect, which soon proved more than a match for the most determined small boy.

It was unfortunate that almost within days of his arrival Jamie went down with the measles. The disease started in the school and spread rapidly. When Lanny Price succumbed, Felicity knew it must only be a matter of time before Jamie followed suit.

Dr. Belvedere insisted that the school be closed and Felicity wasn’t sorry, for Jamie as a patient proved to be a fulltime job—and one that devolved almost entirely upon her, with Rose Hibberd’s help.

To give Amaryllis her due, she did try, but her nerves did not stand up well to the rigors of the sickroom; her tearful ministrations had an unfortunate effect upon the invalid, and more often than not culminated in the onset of a migraine, when only one of Felicity’s tisane’s would bring comfort.

Most afternoons Felicity did manage to get a little fresh air. She usually rode into the village with a few delicacies begged from Mrs. Hudson for the worst-hit families.

After one such visit Felicity encountered the Lipscombe carriage coming away from Cheynings. Her heart sank as Mrs. Lipscombe, muffled to the eyebrows in sable, let down the window and beckoned.

“Miss Vale! We have left cards.”

Felicity reined Starlight in alongside the carriage. The young horse, with the fidgets scarcely shaken out of her legs, shied nervously at the high, querulous voice. Felicity
r
an a soothing hand along her neck and mustered a smile.

“Mrs. Lipscombe. I am sorry to have been out. Cavanah will have told you of our troubles, I daresay. Will you not come back with me now? You will find Amaryllis a trifle indisposed, but I am sure she would be much cheered by a visit from Miss Lipscombe.”

The atmosphere cooled. Mrs. Lipscombe was not pleased to find this upstart girl so much in charge; even Cavanah, it would seem, took his tone from her.

“I cannot permit it, Miss Vale. Indeed, I am astonished to hear you suggest such a visit.”

There was amusement in Felicity’s voice. “It is only the measles, ma’am—a simple childish ailment, nothing more.”

Lucinda leaned forward, clutching her reticule. “I have not had the measles, Miss Vale.”

Felicity examined the empty, flawless features framed exquisit
e
ly in ruby velvet, and felt a momentary pang of sympathy.

“My dear Lucinda has a most delicate constitution,” her mother was saying in quelling tones. “I could not think of exposing her to the risk. Were Lord Stayne here,” she added meaningfully, “I feel sure he would endorse my decision!”

Felicity almost snorted aloud. If Stayne were home, the old dragon would be pushing her daughter in at the door! She swallowed these unladylike sentiments and said mildly: “I hardly think a few words with Amaryllis likely to endanger Miss Lipscombe’s health, ma’am, but of course you must do as you think fit.”

She made light of it to Amaryllis.

“Well, I’m sure I don’t care!” Amaryllis said crossly. “I don’t think I could have listened to Lucinda boring on forever about her latest stay in Norfolk and all the balls she will have attended! That sort of thing is very well if one has no responsibilities!”

These observations were so totally out of character that Felicity was hard put to it not to laugh. But there were dark circles under the gentian blue eyes. “I daresay you will think that a very strange remark for me to be making?”

“I think nothing of the kind,” said Felicity gently. “Your sentiments are
everything I would expect in you. Jamie must naturally come first in your
thoughts, but a little relaxation—a little taking out of yourself, would perhaps be
beneficial.”

“No, no! I can think of nothing else
...
why, he hardly knew me just now
...
when I remember how I used to complain of his constant chatter! If only he will
get well
—
Oh, why is Dr. Belvedere not here?”

Her words were punctuated by sobs and Felicity’s heart ached for her.

“You must not worry so. The doctor will come, but he is very busy at present and there is little more he can do. The fever must run its course.”

But the fever continued to mount and with it his mother’s panic.

“I’m so afraid,” she sobbed. “I know you all wish to spare my feelings, but I feel sure he is going to
...”
she pressed a hand convulsively to her mouth.

“Oh, good gracious! Nothing of the kind!” cried Felicity. “By tomorrow or the next day you will be laughing at your fears!”

She did not add that Mary Perkins down in the village had died that very morning—and she hoped that no one would be so thoughtless as to mention the tragedy in her cousin’s hearing. The Perkinses were a sickly family, after all, particularly little Mary, who at eight had been under-sized and dogged by a persistent racking cough. If this had not taken her, doubtless something else would have.

Felicity persuaded Amaryllis to go and rest, “
...
you look quite worn out. And Jamie will need you fresh and cheerful when he is over this little setback.”

Amaryllis went, with a backward glance into the darkened room where her son turned his head restlessly away from Rose Hibberd’s cooling sponge. The curtains were drawn against the light, which hurt his eyes.

“You will let me know if
...
Oh, Felicity, why does Max not come? It is two days since I sent word!”

Her original insistence on sending for Lord Stayne had surprised Felicity, but this heartfelt cry now found an echo in her own thoughts, for somehow the Earl’s very air of omniscience was guaranteed to exercise a calming influence.

It was well past midnight when he did come. The first she knew was when he stood in the doorway, his body tense, his face in shadow. A screen shielded the bed from the single lamp where Felicity sat mending one of Jamie’s shirts.

She put it down and came softly across the room.

“Miss Vale.” His voice lacked its usual incisiveness. “May I come in?”

She stood aside to let him pass. He stood, frowning at her as though he hardly recognized her in the simple cream wrapper, with her
hair
brushed free. She met his look and found her heart beating a little faster.

“Why are you here?” he asked. “Is there not a hired nurse?”

“No, sir. We are managing very well without. But I am glad you are come.”

“My sister-in-law’s note was somewhat incoherent?” His eyes lifted to the screened bed. “Jamie...?”

Felicity’s matter-of-fact voice was reassuring. “He has been quite ill, but he has come through the crisis splendidly. Dr. Belvedere says he will soon be feeling more the t
h
ing.”

They crossed together to the bed where the small boy lay fast asleep.

“He looks... thinner,” said his uncle abruptly.

“Perhaps ... a little, but that is soon put right.” They moved softly away again into the pool of lamplight. “It is Amaryllis who needs you.”

The Earl looked skeptical. “You need not tell me. My sister-in-law has spent most of her time prostrate with the vapors!”

Felicity shook her head. “This time you wrong her, my lord. Oh, I’m not saying she has been much use in the sickroom; her nerves, as you know, are not of the strongest.”

Stayne snorted.

“But she has tried! You would be astonished, I think, to know how much she has tried!”

“I am delighted to hear it,” said the Earl. “But I know to whom we owe our gratitude for Jamie’s safe deliverance—and much else besides—these days past. Your resourcefulness has made a great impression upon Cavanah—a veritable tower of strength were, I believe, the words he used!”

Tiredness made Felicity oversensitive to the ever
present sarcasm. “I am sorry if you t
hink
I have exceeded my position
...
”

“Good God!” Stayne grasped her arm and swung her around. “Miss Vale—in my somewhat clumsy fashion I am trying to thank you!”

“Oh!” She blinked up at him. There were tears glinting on her lashes, as there had been on the first day they had met, and the soft lamplight was making a nimbus of her hair. He found himself wanting very much to touch it.

Felicity wondered why he did not let her go. He was looking at her so strangely that she caught her breath. How long they stood—or what might have been the outcome—she was never to know; there was a sound from the doorway and they turned to find Amaryllis, in a trailing peignoir, clutching at the post.

“Max!”

He moved and caught her as she fell against him. Only when she had been fully reassured and had seen for herself that Jamie was sleeping, would she allow herself to be led back to her own room. The Earl’s gentleness and patience were so at odds with his customary brusqueness that Felicity, tired as she was, found all her preconceived notions in a turmoil.

“I am taking Amaryllis to her bed now, Miss Vale,” he said. “And then I intend to find someone to sit with Jamie for the remainder of the night so that you, too, may take a much-needed rest.”

“There is no need
.
..
”

“I disagree, my dear young lady. There is every need. You are quite clearly worn out.”

“I am nothing of the kind! I beg you will leave matters alone, my lord. All has been most carefully arranged so that we each take our
turn.
Besides, I would prefer to be here if Jamie should wake.”

“Miss Vale,” returned the Earl with equal determination, “you have had things very much your own way these days past, but
I
am here now and I believe I am still master in my own house!”

Amaryllis looked from one to the other, tearful and bewildered.

“Oh, but Max ... you cannot know
...
Felicity has been so good ... so truly good! You can have no idea ... I do not know how I should have gone on without her.”

“On the contrary, I trust Miss Vale is in no doubt of my gratitude?”

Faced with so arbitrary an appeal, Felicity capitulated—and was rewarded by an unexpectedly warm smile.

“There—you see? There is no difficulty.”

Within three days Jamie was displaying an unbelievable amount of energy and was being indulged by almost everyone until he stood in danger of being thoroughly spoiled. Even his uncle, who called him a noisome, pampered brat, gave the lie to his words by spending many a long hour at his bedside fashioning small boats out of paper.

It was the Earl who carried him down to the drawing room at last with the doctor’s permission—and having performed his duty, showed little inclination to leave. When, an hour or so later, Mrs. and Miss Lipscombe were announced, they walked in upon
a
most affecting family scene.

Jamie and his mother, together with Felicity and Lord Stayne, were sitting on the floor before a blazing log fire arguing over a game of spillikins which seemed to involve a great deal of noise and general hilarity.

From the set of Mrs. Lipscombe’s mouth, the scene afforded her little pleasure, but she mellowed slightly as the Earl came quickly to his feet. He greeted them with punctilious good manners, bade them to be seated, and suggested that Cavanah might bring a tea tray.

Amaryllis, flushed from the fire and not particularly pleased by the intrusion, stood up more slowly.

“I had not expected to see you, ma’am,” she said with a touch of waspishness. “Or you, Lucinda.
Especially you!
Are you not afraid to be in the same room with my Jamie? He is not yet fully recovered, you know.”

Lucinda flushed and watched with some trepidation as Jamie showed every sign of wishing to be intimate and had to be restrained by Felicity.

A flurry of hail splattered the windows, icily enhancing the look Mrs. Lipscombe directed at Felicity, for so obviously carrying tales to her cousin. She covered her daughter’s discomfiture with a light laugh.

“My dear Amaryllis,” she confided archly, “you must not blame Lucinda for being a dutiful daughter, it was I who held her back—impelled by a strong maternal urge to protect, which I am sure you must allow to be understandable? Do you not allow it to be so, Lord Stayne?”

“Oh, quite,” said the Earl politely. “A very natural instinct, ma’am.”

“Quite so. I knew
you
must understand. But Mr. Lipscombe is made of sterner stuff than I. He has a strong sense of duty. ‘Only consider, madam,’ he said to me, ‘Only consider what a comfort your daughter’s presence must afford Mrs. Delamere at this difficult time. Such charitable considerations must outweigh all risks!’ And so I have suffered my scruples to be overset.”

It was unfortunate that she chanced to glance at Felicity just as the latter was quite wickedly hazarding a guess as to when the news of Lord Stayne’s return had reached the Lipscombe household. She could not accurately divine the girl’s thoughts, but knew open insolence when she saw it. Her nostrils flared, making her resemblance to a horse more marked.

“I understand the disease emanated from your school, Miss Vale.”

Before Felicity could take issue, the Earl interposed smoothly: “Who can tell where such epidemics have their origins, ma’am. They are common enough in all conscience. My brother and I seldom mixed with other children, yet I remember we took every childish ailment without exception.”

Jamie listened with absorbed interest, and not wishing to be excluded from a topic upon which he was so obviously an expert, now entered the conversation with enthusiasm.

“I had the measles much worse than my friend, Lanny Price, Cousin F’licity said so! I had a rash all over, but it has quite gone now. Would you like to see?”

He advanced in the friendliest way upon the visitors, already tugging at the neck of his nightgown beneath the bright red dressing gown.

Mrs. Lipscombe uttered a little shriek and Lucinda turned pale. Felicity swooped on the miscreant and lifted him off his feet.

“Thank you, Jamie—but no. I think you have been downstairs quite long enough for your first day. Say good afternoon now and we will go.”

“But I’m not in the least bit tired, Cousin F’licity, truly! I thought we were to play another game.”