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Mrs Dauntry, in fact, was exerting herself in a most unusual way to introduce to Charis every unattached gentleman who might, in her opinion, be relied upon either to captivate her by his address, or to dazzle her by his rank. Convinced that Charis was on the catch for a title, she not only promoted the interests of Lord Wrenthorpe (well-known to have been born without a shirt), but went quite out of her way to present to Charis any scion of a noble house whom she did not at all wish to welcome as a son-in-law. To do her justice, she was not, at the moment, angling for an eligible parti for Chloë, who had only just emerged from the schoolroom, and was rather too young to form any serious attachment; and but for her determination not to allow Louisa Buxted to steal a march on her she would not have presented her for another year. Mrs Dauntry thought of her as a mere child, and devoted herself so thoroughly to the task of detaching Endymion from Charis Merriville that the growing intimacy between Chloë and Mr Charles Trevor escaped her notice.
As for the Merrivil
les, their relationship to Alverstoke, the éclat with which he launched them into the ton, the patronage of Lady Jersey and Lady Sefton, and their indefinable air of good breeding, brought them a great many agreeable invitations, very few persons lending credence to Lady Buxted’s smiling hints of their lack of fortune, and only the most jealous parents resenting Charis’s beauty. It was generally agreed that she was a very sweet, unaffected girl, and that it was just like Louisa Buxted to try to spoil her chances, because her own daughter was so sadly unprepossessing. If Mrs Dauntry, also with a daughter to dispose of creditably, dropped no such hints, it seemed safe to assume that there was not a shred of truth in them. They had certainly hired a house in an unfashionable quarter of the town, but that was probably due to Miss Winsham’s eccentricity. No other signs of poverty were to be discerned: they were always elegantly attired; their excellent butler had grown old in the service of the family; and they employed a very respectable footman. Further, it was known (on the authority of Mrs Dauntry) that their brother’s estates in Herefordshire were considerable. This made several people remember, rather vaguely, that Fred Merriville, after pursuing an expensive course calculated to bring his parents’ gray hairs down in sorrow to the grave, had unexpectedly come into the Merriville property. Since neither Fred’s father nor his elder brother had been at all well-known in London no one had any very exact information about the size of this property, even his Dauntry connections never having visited Graynard. So Mrs Dauntry was able, in the most delicate manner possible, to convey, without fear of contradiction, the impression that the present owner was a young man of fortune, and his sisters handsomely dowered.
Twelve
It was not long before Frederica began to realise that society had formed an exaggerated idea of her father’s inheritance. One or two casual remarks showed that if she and Charis were not regarded as heiresses they were at least credited with large portions; and when Mrs Parracombe, to whom she had taken an instant dislike, asked her in what part of the country Graynard was situated, adding that she had heard it was a most beautiful seat, she suspected that Alverstoke must be the originator of these rumours. She was indebted to Miss Jane Buxted, who seemed to be unpleasantly addicted to backstairs gossip, for the information that Mrs Parracombe was one of Alverstoke’s chères amies; and though she gave Jane a set-down she saw no reason to doubt the story. His lordship’s way of life was no concern of hers; but she was vexed to find herself thrust into what she felt to be almost an imposture, and she determined to demand whether it was indeed he who was responsible for it.
No opportunity to do so offered immediately, and when it did it was under circumstances which set her at a disadvantage and made her pose her question in a perfectly civil way. His lordship had not forgotten his promise to take Jessamy with him, when he drove his new team of grays to Richmond – or, rather, it had been recalled to his mind by Curry, his head-groom, who had formed a very good opinion of Jessamy – and he had called in Upper Wimpole Street one morning to pick the boy up: thus subjecting him to a severe struggle with his conscience. He told Frederica, who had encountered Owen on his way upstairs to deliver his lordship’s invitation, that having made up his mind to devote his mornings to study he must not yield to temptation; but Frederica very sensibly suggested that he could resume his studies later in the day, upon which his face brightened, and he hurried away to scrub his hands, telling Owen to assure his lordship that he would be with him in a pig’s whisper.
It was Frederica, however, who conveyed the message to Alverstoke, asking him, at the same time, if he would spare her a few minutes upon his return.
He looked down at her, as she stood on the flagway, his eyes, for all their laziness, curiously penetrating. ‘Certainly,’ he responded. ‘Something of grave importance?’
She hesitated. ‘It seems so to me, but perhaps you will not think so.’
‘You intrigue me, Frederica. Do I detect a note of censure in your voice?’
She was not obliged to answer this, for at that moment Jessamy arrived on the scene, and ran down the steps, breathlessly expressing the hope that he had not kept his lordship waiting. Bidding his sister a cursory farewell, he climbed up into the phaeton, looking so happy and excited that feelings of gratitude to Alverstoke for having granted him this treat overcame other, and less charitable, emotions in her breast.
When he returned, several hours later, it was in a mood of deep content. He ushered Alverstoke into the drawing-room, saying: ‘Frederica? Oh, you are here! Come in, sir! Oh, Frederica, I have had such a time! I haven’t enjoyed anything so much since we came to London! We have been to Richmond Park – Cousin Alverstoke has tickets of admission, you know – and he let me handle the reins, and – Sir, I don’t know how to thank you enough! – Sh-showing me just how to turn a corner in style, too, and how to point the leaders, and –’
‘My dear boy, you have already thanked me enough – too much, in fact!’ replied Alverstoke, rather amused. ‘If you do so any more, you’ll become a bore!’
Jessamy laughed, blushed, and said, a little shyly: ‘I think I must have been, sir! Such – such dull work for you, teaching a mere whipster! And so very kind of you to let me drive those grays, when, for anything you knew, I might have been a regular spoon!’
‘If I had had any such apprehension,’ said Alverstoke gravely, ‘I should not have let you drive them. You are not yet a top-sawyer, but you’ve light hands, considerable precision of eye, and you know how to stick to your leaders.’
Coming from a Nonpareil, these words reduced Jessamy to stammering incoherence. He managed to thank his lordship yet again, and then effaced himself, to spend an unprofitable hour with his books open before him but his thoughts very far away from them.
‘I should like to thank you, too,’ Frederica said, with a warm smile, ‘but I don’t dare! Was it a bore?’
‘Oddly enough, no. A new experience! I’ve never before attempted to impart my skill to another, and I’ve discovered that either I’m an excellent teacher, or that I had a remarkably apt pupil. But I didn’t come to talk about driving. What have I done to vex you, Frederica?’
‘I don’t know. I mean, I am vexed, but I’m not perfectly sure that it was your doing,’ she said frankly. ‘The thing is that people seem to think that we are possessed of a handsome fortune. Cousin, did you set that rumour about?’
‘Certainly not,’ he replied, his eyebrows slightly raised. ‘Why should I?’
‘Well, you might have done so to be helpful, perhaps.’
‘I can think of few things less helpful.’
‘No, nor can I! Besides, it is so odiously vulgar! I detest shams! It makes it seem as though I had been cutting a wheedle, to achieve a brilliant marriage for Charis. As though such shifts could succeed!’
He smiled. ‘Oho! Would you employ them if they could?’
The smile was faintly reflected in her eyes, but she shook her head. ‘No – contemptible! Don’t you think so?’
‘I do, but you appear to have suspected me of selling just such a contemptible bargain.’
‘Yes, but I knew it must have been with the best of intentions,’ she assured him.
‘Worse! You believe me to be a flat!’
She laughed. ‘Indeed I don’t! I beg your pardon – but if you didn’t set the story about, who can have done so? And – and why? I promise you, I’ve never tried to make people think we are wealthy, and nor, I’m very sure, has Charis. In fact, when Mrs Parracombe talked of Graynard, saying how much she would like to see it, and speaking as if it were a ducal mansion, I told her it was no such thing.’
‘Now I know why I fell under suspicion!’ he murmured provocatively.
