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'Well, I was obliged to make all possible haste, when Tom was crying with pain,' he said sulkily. 'He was awake all last night, let me tell you, and here are you expecting me to write you a letter through the post, and wait for you to answer it!'
'Not at all! What I should have expected you to do, had I known anything about it, would have been to have taken Tom to Melling immediately he complained of the toothache – whatever Amabel's opinion of his skill may be! Good God, how much skill is required to pull out a milk-tooth? Why, I daresay Dr Tarporley would have whisked it out in a trice, and spared Tom his sleepless night!'
This left Sir Geoffrey with nothing to say. He looked discomfited, and sought refuge in wounded dignity. 'No doubt it will be best for me to hire a suitable lodging in the town!'
'Much best – except that it would set all the Bath quizzes' tongues wagging! I will give orders in the morning for rooms to be prepared, but I am afraid I shan't be able to entertain Amabel as I should wish: I have a great many engagements which I must keep, in addition to accompanying Lucilla when she goes out. That, since her uncle has entrusted her to my care, is, you will agree, an inescapable duty!'
On this Parthian shot, she left the room. She was still seething with anger, for her brother's demeanour and lame excuses for his descent on her had confirmed her suspicion that his real reason was an obstinate determination to prevent any intimacy between her and Oliver Carleton. Amabel was to be planted in her house as a duenna – though what Geoffrey imagined Amabel (poor little goose!) could do to prevent her doing precisely as she chose only he knew! She was too angry to consider whether what seemed to her to be unwarrantable interference might not be a clumsy but well-meaning attempt to protect her from one whom he believed to be a dangerous rake; and the sight of Miss Farlow, hovering on the threshold of her bedchamber did nothing to assuage her wrath. She had no doubt that Miss Farlow was responsible for Geoffrey's sudden arrival, and it would have afforded her great pleasure to have shaken the irritating titter out of that meddlesome old Tabby, and have boxed her ears into the bargain. Suppressing this most unladylike impulse, she said coldly: 'Well, Maria? What is it you want?'
'Oh!' said Miss Farlow, in a flutter. 'Nothing in the world, dear Annis! I was just wondering whether dear Sir Geoffrey has everything he needs! If only Limbury had told me of his arrival I should have slipped away from the party, and attended to his comfort, as I hope I need not assure you, for it is my business to provide for your visitors, is it not? And even such excellent servants as our good Limbury, you know –'
'Limbury is far more capable than you, cousin, to provide for Sir Geoffrey's needs,' interposed Miss Wychwood, putting considerable force on herself to hold her temper in check. 'If anything should be wanting, Sir Geoffrey will ring his bell! I advise you to go to bed, to recruit your strength for the task that lies before you tomorrow! I shall require you to provide for several more visitors! Goodnight!'
A night's repose restored much of Miss Wychwood's shaken equilibrium, and she was able to confront her brother over the breakfast cups with tolerable composure. She asked him, quite pleasantly, whether he wished her to provide accommodation for him during Amabel's stay, and accepted, without betraying the relief she felt, his prosy explanation of why circumstances prevented him from staying beyond the time of Amabel's arrival. This instantly made Miss Farlow break into a flood of protestations, in which (she said) she knew well dear Annis would join her. 'I am persuaded dear Lady Wychwood must need your support through the approaching ordeal!' she said. 'Such a time as it is, too, since you last came to stay in Bath, for I don't count the scrap of a visit you paid us the other day! And if you are thinking that there is no room for you, there can be no difficulty about that, for you and dear Lady Wychwood can be perfectly comfortable in the Green room, which can be made ready for you in a trice. You have only to say the word!'
'If he can edge one in!' said Miss Wychwood dryly.
Sir Geoffrey gave a snort of laughter, and exchanged a glance pregnant with meaning with her. As little as any man did he welcome conversation at the breakfast-table, and it was probable that he had never liked Miss Farlow less than when he came under the full fire of her inconsequent chatter.
'When am I to expect Amabel to arrive?' asked Miss Wychwood smoothly.
'Well, as to that, I can't precisely answer you,' he replied, looking harassed. 'She has the intention of starting out betimes, but with all the business of packing, and seeing to it that Nurse hasn't forgotten anything – which very likely she will, because excellent though she is in her management of the children she has no head – none at all! When we took Tom to visit his grandparents last year, we had to turn back three times! I can tell you it tried my patience sadly, and I was provoked into declaring that I would never undertake a journey in her company again! Or in Tom's!' he added, with a reluctant grin. 'The thing is, you know, that he is a bad traveller! Feels sick before one has gone a mile, and after that one has to be for ever pulling up, to lift him down from the chaise to be sick in the road – poor little fellow!'
This perfunctory rider made Miss Wychwood break into laughter, in which he somewhat sheepishly joined her. 'Now I know what the circumstances are which make your immediate return to Twynham quite imperative!' she said.
'Well, I hope I am not an unfeeling parent, but – well, you know how it is, Annis!'
'I can hazard a guess at all events! It has not yet been my fate to travel with a child afflicted with carriage-sickness, I thank God!'
'Oh, it quite wrings my heart to think of that sweet little boy being sick, for there is nothing more miserable!' broke in Miss Farlow. 'Not that I am myself a bad traveller, for I daresay I could drive from one end of the country to the other without experiencing the least discomfort, but I well remember how ill my particular friend, Miss Aston, always felt, even in hackney carriages. She is dead now, poor dear soul, though not in a hackney carriage, of course.'
Judging from her brother's expression that he was on the brink of delivering himself of a hasty snub, Miss Wychwood intervened, to suggest to her garrulous companion that if she had finished her breakfast she should go to talk to Mrs Wardlow about the arrangements to be made for Lady Wychwood, her children, her nurse, her dresser, and the nurse's m
aid. Miss Farlow expressed the utmost willingness to do so, and instantly plunged into a minute description of the plans she had already formulated. Miss Wychwood checked her by saying: 'Later, Maria, if you please! Domestic details are not interesting to Geoffrey!'
'No, indeed! Gentlemen never take any interest in them, do they? My own dear father was always used to say –'
She was interrupted by the impetuous entrance of Lucilla, so they never learned what the late Mr Farlow was always used to say. Lucilla was full of apologies for being so late. 'I can't think how I came to oversleep, except that I wasn't called! Oh, how do you do, Sir Geoffrey! My maid told me you arrived in the middle of the party: were you too tired to join it? I wish you might have done so, for it was a truly splendid party, wasn't it, ma'am?'
Miss Wychwood laughed, told her to pull the bell for a fresh pot of tea, and said that she had given orders she was not to be disturbed. 'Indeed, I meant to have your breakfast carried up to you as soon as you woke,' she said.
'Oh, yes, Brigham told me so, but I am not in the least fagged, and I can't bear having my breakfast in bed! The crumbs get into it, and the tea gets spilt over the sheet. Besides, I am to ride my mare this morning, and how dreadful it would be if I were late! Did my uncle tell you when he means to bring the horses round, ma'am?'
'No,' replied Miss Wychwood, aware that Sir Geoffrey had stiffened alarmingly. 'To own the truth, I had forgotten we were to ride out today. I have had other things to think of. My sister-in-law is bringing her children to stay with me, and I am not very sure when they will arrive.'
'Oh!' Lucilla said blankly. 'I didn't know. Does it mean that you can't go with us? Pray don't cry off, ma'am!'
His evil genius prompted Sir Geoffrey to utter unwise words. 'My dear young lady,' he said kindly, 'you must not expect my sister to jaunter off on an expedition of pleasure, leaving no one to receive Lady Wychwood!'
'No. Of course not,' Lucilla agreed politely, but in a disappointed tone.
Now, Miss Wychwood had decided, many hours before, not to ride out in Mr Carleton's company, not even to see him. She had had the intention of charging Lucilla with a formal message of regret. That, she thought, would teach him a salutary lesson. But no sooner had Sir Geoffrey spoken than her hackles rose, and she said: 'As to that, Mrs Wardlow will be only too happy to receive Amabel, and to be granted an opportunity to dote on the children, besides discussing with Amabel all the nursery details which they both find so absorbing, and in which I take no interest.' She rose as she spoke, saying: 'I must go and tell Miss Farlow what I wish her to do for me this morning.'
'You will ride with us?' Lucilla cried eagerly.
Miss Wychwood nodded smilingly, and left the room. She was almost immediately followed by Sir Geoffrey, who caught her up as she was about to mount the stairs. 'Annis!' he said commandingly.
She paused, and looked over her shoulder at him. 'Well, Geoffrey?'
