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He smiled with a slight effort. ‘Why, yes, ma’am! I had hoped to have won the right to speak to you on this subject. Well – I have not won that right, and you may deem it an impertinence that I should still venture, but since Fanny has honoured me with her confidence, and I promised her that I would do what I might, perhaps you will forgive me, and hear me with patience?’
She looked wonderingly at him. ‘Of course! That is – What can you possibly mean, my lord?’
‘She is, I collect, deeply attached to a young man whom she has known since her childhood. She has told me that you are opposed to the match, ma’am. Perhaps there exists some reason beyond his want of fortune to render his suit ineligible, but if it is not so – if your dislike of it arises only from a very natural desire that Fanny should contract some more brilliant alliance – may I beg of you, with
all the earnestness at my command, not to stand between her and what may be her future happiness? Believe me, I do not speak without experience! In my youth I was the victim of such an ambition. I shall not say that one does not recover from an early disappointment – indeed, you know that I at least have done so! – but I am most sincerely fond of Fanny, and I would do much to save her from what I suffered. I have some little influence: I should be glad to exert it in this young man’s favour.’
The damp handkerchief had dropped from the widow’s clutch to the floor; she sat gazing up at his lordship with so odd an expression in her face that he added quickly: ‘You find it strange that Fanny should have confided in me. Do not be hurt by it! I believe it is often the case that a girl will more easily give her confidence to her father than to a most beloved mother. When she spoke, it was in the belief that I might become – But I will say no more on that head!’
The widow found her voice at last. ‘My lord,’ she said, ‘do I – do I understand that you are desirous of becoming Fanny’s father?’
‘That is not quite as I should phrase it, perhaps,’ he said, with a wry smile.
‘Not,’ asked the widow anxiously, ‘not – you are quite sure? – Fanny’s husband?’
He looked thunderstruck. ‘Fanny’s husband?’ he echoed. ‘I? Good God, no! Why – is it possible that you can have supposed – ?’
‘I have never fainted in all my life,’ stated Mrs Wingham, in an uncertain voice. ‘I very much fear, however –’
‘No, no, this is no time for swoons!’ he said, seizing her hands. ‘You cannot have thought that it was Fanny I loved! Yes, yes, I know what Fanny has been to you, but you cannot have been so absurd!’
‘Yes, I was,’ averred the widow. ‘I could even be so absurd as not to have the remotest guess why I have felt so low ever since I met you, and thought you wished to marry her!’
He knelt beside her chair, still clasping her hands. ‘What a fool I was! But I thought my only hope of being in any way acceptable to you was to praise Fanny to you! And, indeed, she is a delightful girl! But all you have said to me today – you were not speaking of yourself?’
‘Oh no, no! Of Fanny! You see, she and Richard –’
‘Never mind Fanny and Richard!’ he interrupted. ‘Is it still useless for me to persist in my errand to you?’
‘Quite ridiculous!’ she said, clinging to his hands. ‘You have not the least need to persist in it! That is, if you do indeed wish to marry such a blind goose as I have been!’
His lordship disengaged his hands, but only that he might take her in his arms. ‘I wish it more than for anything else on this earth!’ he assured her.
To Have the Honour
1
Young Lord Allerton, a little pale under his tan, glanced from his mother to his man of business. ‘But – good God, why was I never told in what case I stood?’
Mr Thimbleby did not attempt to answer this home question. He perceived that young Lord Allerton’s facial resemblance to his deceased father was misleading. There was nothing the late Viscount had desired less than to be told in what case he stood. Three years of campaigning in the Peninsula had apparently engendered in the Fifth Viscount a sense of responsibility which, however welcome it might be in the future to his man of business, seemed at the moment likely to lead to unpleasantness. Mr Thimbleby directed an appealing look towards the widow.
She did not fail him. Regarding her handsome eldest born with an eye of fond pride, she said: ‘But when poor Papa died, you had been wounded, dearest! I would not for the world have distressed you!’
The Viscount said impatiently: ‘A scratch! I was back in the saddle within a week! Mama, how could you keep me in ignorance of our circumstances? Had I had the least notion of the truth I must have returned to England immediately!’
‘Exactly so!’ nodded his parent. ‘And that, dearest Alan, I was determined you should not be obliged to do! Everyone said the war would so soon be over, and I knew how mortified you would be to be forced to sell out before the glorious end! To be sure, I did hope that directly after Toulouse you might have been released, but it was not to be, and it is of no consequence, except that here we are, with all the foreign notables upon us, and I have the greatest dread that your tailor may not have your evening dress ready for you to wear at my ball next week!’
‘That, Mama, believe me, is the least of our problems!’
‘Very true, my love,’ agreed her ladyship. ‘Trix has been in despair, but “Depend upon it”, I have said from the outset, “even though your brother may patronize Scott, instead of Weston, who always did so well by poor Papa, you may be confident that no tailor would fail at such a juncture!”’ Her gaze dwelled appreciatively upon his lordship’s new coat of olive-green, upon the pantaloons of delicate yellow which clung to his shapely legs, upon the Hessian boots which shone so bravely, and upon the neckcloth which was tied with such nicety, and she heaved a satisfied sigh.
The Viscount turned in desperation to his man of business. ‘Thimbleby!’ he uttered. ‘Be so good as to explain to me why you did not think it proper to inform me that my father had left me encumbered with debt.’
Mr Thimbleby cast another imploring glance at the widow. ‘Her ladyship having done me the honour to admit me into her confidence, my lord, it seemed to me – that is, I was encouraged to hope…’
‘To hope what?’
‘My dear son, you must not blame our good Thimbleby!’ intervened Lady Allerton. ‘Indeed, no one is to be blamed, for if you will but consider you will perceive that our case is not desperate!’
