“Les,” his brother said, “this is the real world. This is not fantasyland. In this world money is necessary for survival.”
“Papa gives you plenty of money.” Lesley looked troubled. “He gives me plenty, Freddie, but he gives you more, I know. And you will inherit when Papa dies.”
“Which may be a long time in the future,” Frederick said. “Which Ihopewill be a long time in the future. In themeantime we both have to live. And you know that Papa isnot the sort of person to whom one goes to ask for moreblunt. For one thing it would be humiliating. And for another he would assume that sorrowful look he always usedto have when we were lined up for canings. As if we haddisappointed him beyond measure. As if the whipping wasgoing to hurt him more than it hurt us. Gad, Les, he knowshow to make one abject with guilt and misery.”
“You really do have big debts, then, Freddie?” Les asked. “They can’t be cleared with next quarter’s allowance? Even if I give you some of mine?”
Frederick swung down from his horse’s back and grinned. “Les,” he said, “you can do it almost as well asPapa. Yes, dear brother, I do have big debts. Bigger. Andnext quarter’s allowance has to be lived on. I’m afraid it isdebtors’ prison for me or Papa’s sorrowful look or a political marriage—one of the three. On the whole I think themarriage is the best bet. And the fact that it is to be withJule makes it a little more palatable than it would otherwisebe. Actually the thought of a leg shackle is enough to makeme break out in a cold sweat.”
Lesley slid from his horse’s back a little more slowly. “I think you should go to Papa, Freddie,” he said. “He won’teat you, you know. And you are too old for a caning. Thenyou would be free.”
Frederick laughed and handed the reins of his horse to a waiting groom. If Les only knew, he thought, how much ofa dent the paying of his debts would put even in their father’s fortune. “Until next time,” he said. “I am afraid Ihave a compulsive and rather expensive habit, Les. Thoughmy luck could change any day and I could end up as rich asCroesus. That is a pleasant thought to dream on, now is it not?”
“I don’t think you should marry Jule,” Lesley said, relinquishing his own horse to the same groom. “I really don’t, Freddie. Not fair to her, you know. Jule deserves better.”
“She will think herself the most fortunate woman in the world,” Frederick said. “She willbethe most fortunatewoman. I’ll see to it, Les. I intend to treat her well. I knowhow to treat a woman. It is one of my innate talents andpracticed skills.” He grinned again.
“You will give up all other women?” Lesley asked.
Frederick threw back his head and shouted with laughter.
“Then I think I had better talk with her,” Lesley said. “I really do, Freddie. I’m sorry if she chooses me. Sorry foryour hopes, I mean. I don’t suppose she will, mind, but Ithink it would be best for her. I think I’ll talk to her as soonas possible. Today.”
“Why delay any longer?” Frederick asked, looking affectionately at his brother. “There she is now, Les, my boy, strolling in the formal gardens with Aunt Millie. I shalldraw Aunt Millie away and leave the field clear to you.You see how much brotherly love I have? I’ll blight myown chances by giving you an opportunity to make youroffer. I do believe the rain is even going to hold off.” Heglanced up at the sky.
“All right, Freddie,” Lesley said, drawing a deep and audible breath. “I’ll do it. Let’s go.”
“That’s the boy, Les,” his brother said, slapping him on one shoulder.
And the thing was, Frederick thought, confident as he was of being able to win any woman he set himself tocharm, and insignificant as Les’s opposition might seem,there could be no certainty about the outcome. One couldnever tell with Jule. She might choose Les just because shewas Jule and had a habit of doing the unexpected.
That was part of her charm. And part of the excitement of the game. For though he desperately needed to win, hewould not enjoy the process of winning if it were a certainthing—if there were no gamble involved.
Perhaps, he thought, he was an incurable gambler.
* * *
“And you will keep the parterre gardens,” Aunt Millie said as she strolled through them with Julia. “1 know youwill, dear, because you have always been fond of them.And I have never held with these new ideas of doing awaywith formal gardens and making parks look natural andgreen to the very doors of the house. If anyone wants natural landscape, I always say, then they should walk outonto common ground. Though much of that is disappearingto enclosures these days, is it not?”
“I love parterre gardens,” Julia said. “I love order and symmetry in nature—before a house anyway. But I mayhave no say in what happens with these gardens, Aunt Millie. I may well be moving away from here at the end of themonth.”
“Oh, never say so, dear,” Aunt Millie said. “One of the nephews will offer for you, dear, if not all of them. Theyare all fond of you, I am sure, though that is hardly surprising. So am I. And a fine lot of young gentlemen they aretoo. I might not have stayed single myself if I had had suchsuitors vying for my hand. As it was, there were only gentlemen I had no interest in at all.” She sighed. “Though I regret not having had children. But then I was blessed withyour dear mama as a niece to live in the same house andmore lately I have been blessed with you, dear Julia.”
Julia turned to smile at her and then extended her smile to Frederick and Lesley, who were striding toward them, stilldressed in their riding clothes. Things had been quiet forseveral days. She and Daniel had managed to avoid eachother quite nicely, Malcolm was giving her a wider thanwide berth, Gussie was her dear friend again, and Freddiewas still keeping his distance, and still grinning and winkingwhenever he caught her eye. She wished he had continuedwith the promising line of courtship he had begun theevening they had strolled toward the lake, but he had not.And Les had made no move at all.
“I thought two roses had escaped from the rose arbor,” Frederick said when they were within earshot. “But when Ilooked more closely I saw it was Aunt Millie and Jule.”
Aunt Millie threw up her hands and laughed merrily. “Oh, Frederick,” she said, “how outrageous you are. Tworoses, indeed. Perhaps Julia looks like a rose—indeed I amsure she is prettier than one. But I am just an old thing.”
“Precious gems are usually old things too, Aunt Millie,” he said. “And so are priceless paintings. And medieval tapestries. Now I swear that I saw a pink rose in the arbor thismorning the exact shade of your dress. I am going to pluckit for you without further delay and thread it in your hair. Itis an exquisite bloom. It will almost do you justice.” Hebowed elegantly and offered his arm.
“Shameless flatterer,” Aunt Millie said, tapping him sharply on the arm before taking it. “It is Julia you shouldbe taking to the rose arbor, Frederick. I don’t know what anold thing like me wants with a rose in her hair.”
“We will honor the rose,” he said. “Besides, Aunt, Julia is wearing green and I did not see any green roses in thearbor.”
“Foolish boy!” Aunt Millie said as she was borne off along one of the gravel walks.
Lesley smiled. “Hello, Jule,” he said.
