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‘I don’t know precisely. It does seem odd suddenly to find oneself with dozens of cousins one never knew existed, doesn’t it?’
‘Damned odd!’
‘Yes, but they are cousins, or, at all events, connections of ours: they acknowledge it!’
Harry shook his head, but said: ‘Well, I suppose it’s all right and tight. Did you say one of them was making up to Frederica?’
‘Yes, it’s the greatest joke!’ replied Jessamy, fully appreciating his brother’s incredulity. ‘And the best of it is that he’s such a dead bore that –’ He stopped, and frowned. ‘I shouldn’t say that of him,’ he said. ‘He’s a very respectable man. Kind, too, and thinks just as he ought. Only, somehow, he makes you want to go off and knock up a lark when he starts moralising. I know that’s wrong, but it does make me see what Cousin Alverstoke meant when he said I should make a better parson if I did fall into scrapes.’
This disclosure made a stronger appeal to Harry than anything else Jessamy had said in the Marquis’s favour. He declared himself anxious to make his acquaintance, even going so far as to say that he sounded as if he had a lot of rumgumption.
‘Well, I daresay you will be taking the girls to balls, so you’re bound to meet him.’
‘Taking the girls to balls?’ echoed Harry, horrified. ‘No, by Jupiter! That I won’t!’
Nothing would move him from this decision. To the persuasions of his sisters he responded that he had outgrown his evening-dress, and would be dashed if he wasted his blunt on a new rig; that he expected to be fully engaged with his friend Barny; that he rather thought he might take a bolt to Herefordshire, just to be sure all was well at Graynard; and, as a clincher, that he was such a bad dancer that he would only disgrace them if they dragged him to any of their assemblies.
They were disappointed, but not surprised. Harry, who closely resembled Charis, could never disgrace them, however badly he danced, for besides his fair, handsome face and well-made person, he had a considerable degree of lively charm; but Harry, alas, had no taste for fashionable life, and no ambition to acquire the London touch. He was ripe for any spree (as he phrased it) with his friends; but it was easy to see that it would not be many years before he settled down very happily to the life of a sporting squire.
If anything had been needed to confirm him in his resolution it was supplied by Miss Winsham, acidly expressing the opinion that the least he could do to atone for his rustication was to make himself useful to his sisters. Ten minutes in his aunt’s company were enough to set Harry, in general the most easy-going of mortals, at dagger-drawing. Frederica, seeing the spark in his blue eyes, and the mulish look about his mouth, intervened; and allowed some time to elapse before she ventured to suggest that if he wished to make Alverstoke’s acquaintance he could be sure of doing so by escorting his sisters to Lady Sefton’s forthcoming squeeze.
But Harry had an answer to that. Little though he might like doing the pretty amongst all the smarts and fribbles of the ton, he hoped he was not rag-mannered. Rather cool, he said, to depend on a chance meeting for the opportunity to pay his respects to the Marquis! He had given the matter some thought; and since it appeared that Alverstoke had placed them all under an obligation he felt that it behoved him to pay a formal visit in Berkeley Square: not merely as a gesture of civility, but to discharge Jessamy’s debt.
‘Well, I own I should be glad if you could do so,’ said Frederica, ‘but I don’t think he will let you! I expect you are quite right in thinking that you should pay him a morning visit, but, whatever you do, Harry, don’t let it be before noon! Jessamy and I have both invaded his house before he had left his dressing-room, and for a third Merriville to do so would be quite dreadful!’
‘What a paltry fellow!’ exclaimed Harry scornfully.
But when, strictly adhering to Frederica’s advice, he presented himself in Berkeley Square, one glance was enough to convince him that whatever epithet might be used to describe the Marquis, paltry was very fair and far off indeed.
As luck would have it, he arrived at Alverstoke’s house just as Alverstoke emerged from it, exquisitely attired in a blue coat of Weston’s tailoring, the palest of pantaloons, the snowiest of neckcloths, and Hessian boots so highly polished that they glinted in the sunshine. Harry, pausing with one foot on the first of the shallow steps leading up to the door, received an instant impression of tremendous elegance, but not for a moment did it occur to him that he was gazing at a veritable Tulip of the Ton. That coat of blue superfine was moulded over magnificent shoulders; and those clinging pantaloons in no way concealed the swell of muscles in his lordship’s powerful thighs which unmistakeably proclaimed the athlete.
The Marquis, also pausing, but at the top of the steps, looked down at his unexpected visitor. His brows were slightly raised, but after a swift, keen scrutiny, they sank, and he smiled, saying: ‘Don’t take the trouble to introduce yourself! Unless I am very much mistaken, you must be Harr
y Merriville.’
Harry acknowledged it, too well-accustomed to be recognised by his resemblance to his lovely sister to feel surprise at his lordship’s acumen. His lordship, correctly interpreting the look of revulsion in his face, gave him further proof of it. ‘There is a great family-likeness between you all,’ he said smoothly. ‘Come in, and tell me what brings you to London! Not that I need ask! For how long are you sent down?’
Since his tone held nothing but sympathetic interest, Harry saw no reason to take umbrage, and replied, with his frank, attractive smile: ‘Oh, only for the rest of the term, sir. It was nothing – just fun and gig! But the Bag-wig was feeling out of curl, and he chose to cut up stiff. But I’m detaining you! Perhaps you have an engagement?’
‘It’s not of the smallest consequence,’ replied the Marquis, relinquishing his hat, his gloves, and his cane into his footman’s hands, and leading the way into the library. ‘You shall drink a glass of sherry with me, and tell me in what way I can serve you.’
‘Good God, sir, none at all!’ said Harry, shocked. ‘It seems to me that you have done a great deal for my family already. I came merely to thank you for your kind offices.’
‘How very civil of you! But pray don’t!’
‘Yes, that’s all very well,’ objected Harry, ‘but for the life of me I can’t see that we have the least claim upon you, sir!’
‘You are forgetting our relationship.’
‘It ain’t a case of forgetting, for I never knew of it,’ said Harry bluntly. ‘Frederica says you are our cousin, but I’ve a strong notion she’s shamming it!’
‘You wrong her. Our relationship is a trifle remote, perhaps, but we – er – meet somewhere on the family tree, I assure you.’
‘Well, that might be, I daresay,’ conceded Harry doubtfully. ‘I never took much interest in the family tree myself, but of course I know that everyone has hosts of relations one’s never met in one’s life.’
‘And some of them such very Queer Nabs!’ murmured his lordship.
‘Yes, by Jove, aren’t they just?’ exclaimed Harry, with considerable feeling. He burst out laughing at the quizzical look in the Marquis’s eye. ‘Oh, I don’t mean you, sir! How could I? But only think of my Aunt Seraphina! Not that she’s an unknown relation – I only wish to God she were! I daresay you are acquainted with her?’
