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‘Very true! You are quite shone down!’ said Eliza. ‘Only what’s to be done now? I am at one with you, Frederica, in thinking Endymion a very poor match for Charis, but if Lucretia gives her consent – ?’
Frederica sighed. ‘I suppose I must do so too.’
‘Certainly you must,’ said Alverstoke. ‘You cannot possibly live with a watering-pot for the rest of the summer! You and Lucretia will bestow your blessings on this very boring Romeo and Juliet; I will endeavour to restrain Romeo from committing any extravagant folly; and a formal announcement of the betrothal shall be sent to the Gazette.’
‘Very well,’ Frederica said listlessly.
‘Yes, but I am strongly of the opinion that the announcement of your own betrothal should come first, Vernon!’ said Eliza, quizzing him with her eyes. ‘In fact, I think your wedding should come first. Charis and Endymion can very well wait for a month or two
before they become formally engaged. And then you can give a betrothal-party for them, and they can be married from Alverstoke House. Don’t you agree with me, Charles?’
Mr Trevor, manfully, if fleetingly, meeting the eyes of his seething employer, said: ‘As a matter of fact, ma’am, I was just thinking so myself.’
‘Oh, were you?’ said his lordship wrathfully.
‘Well, sir – you couldn’t expect me to be blind!’ said Charles.
‘But what are you dreaming of?’ demanded Frederica, suddenly rather pale. ‘There – there is no question of such a thing!’
‘Nonsense, child, of course you are going to marry Alverstoke!’ said Eliza briskly, drawing on her gloves. ‘Why, Augusta told me so the very day after I came up to London! She says you will deal extremely, too. So does Sally Jersey, and –’
‘Will you have the goodness, Eliza, to permit me to make my proposals myself?’ interrupted his lordship, in a voice of dangerous calm.
‘Yes, my dear brother! But do, pray, stop fearing to put it to the touch, and wondering if this is quite the right moment, or whether you would not do better to wait until Frederica is rather less harassed!’ responded Eliza, smiling affably at him. ‘Charles, are you too worn-down to escort me to Somerset House?’
‘No, indeed! I should be happy to do so!’ he said promptly.
‘Then we will go there immediately.’ She turned, and embraced Frederica. ‘Goodbye, my dear! I am leaving London tomorrow, so I’ll wish you happy now. Charles, I depend on you to tell me which of the pictures I must most admire!’
‘My sisters – !’ said his lordship, with loathing, as he shut the door on Mr Trevor’s heels. Well-aware that it behoved him to tread warily, he added, in a meditative tone: ‘Not but what she was perfectly right, of course. And damnably acute! I did fear to put it to the touch while Felix occupied your whole mind. And why the devil should we wait on the convenience of those two young idiots?’
Frederica, standing as though rooted to the floor, said, in a voice which, even to her ears, sounded very unlike her own: ‘This is ridiculous, Cousin Alverstoke. Such an – an absurd notion has never crossed my mind!’
‘That, my child, I know only too well!’ he replied ruefully.
‘I have no thought of marriage!’
‘That also I know – to my cost! All you think of is Pork Jelly, my love!’
‘Pork Jelly? Oh – !’ The irrepressible laughter sprang into her eyes for a moment. ‘You don’t mean to tell me you were going to make me an offer then?’
‘Such was my intention, but there is something very daunting about Pork Jelly.’
‘But it was Restorative Pork Jelly!’ she said, before she could check her unruly tongue. She saw that he was coming towards her, and stepped back, saying quickly: ‘I see what it is! You feel it to be your duty to offer for me, because you think you may have – have compromised me, staying at Monk’s Farm as you did, but I assure you –’
‘I did not stay at Monk’s Farm, and when I recall the pains I took not to compromise you, driving to and from the worst inn I ever put up at, and over an abominable surface, I can only marvel at your ingratitude, Frederica!’
‘Oh, never that! never that! So good you were! so – so kind! But you don’t want to marry me, Alverstoke! You know you don’t!’
‘Of course I don’t!’ he responded, with great cordiality. ‘But since two of my sisters, my secretary – damn his impudence! – and at least two of my oldest friends, are apparently convinced, in spite of all my efforts to throw dust in their eyes, that that is my ambition, I do beg of you, Frederica, to accept my offer! I cannot – I really cannot endure the mortification of being rejected!’
‘No, no, pray don’t – !’ she said imploringly. ‘You are aware of what my situation is! I have Jessamy and Felix to think of: I cannot leave them to Harry’s care! Surely you must know this?’
‘I haven’t asked you to leave them to his care. I daresay they will like to spend a part of their holidays with him, but they will naturally make their home with us. Like my estimable nephew, I do feel, my love, that they stand in crying need of a little masculine guidance! I realise, of course, that, as a moral preceptor, I fall a long way short of Buxted. On the other hand, they like me better.’
‘But I have not the smallest intention of marrying Lord Buxted!’
‘I think that very wise,’ he said. ‘For some reason or another, Jessamy and Felix seem to have taken him in aversion, don’t they? Moreover, I very much doubt whether he would be prepared to extend a welcome to the Baluchistan hound. No, I shouldn’t marry Buxted, if I were you. Or even Darcy, who informed me last night that he did his best to cut me out. He wouldn’t be able to cope with the boys at all.’
