“Oh. Well, given the duchess’s age, he cannot be much above thirty, I suppose. We shall find out at dinner.”
***
Sophia looked forward to dinner that evening with more than usual interest. It was always the highlight of the day, to have everyone gathered together and all in their evening finery. Regular evening dress was not quite as gorgeous as ball wear, but she loved to see the gentlemen in old-fashioned knee breeches, as the duke insisted upon.
The White Drawing Room was already filled with noise when the Merrington ladies arrived in their usual cluster. They were often the last to arrive, for one could not rush the business of choosing the most appropriate attire for the occasion, andthen there was the delicate business of sharing a lady’s maid. Mama’s maid, Souter, also attended to Charlotte, but Augusta, Maria and Sophia were obliged to share Kitty, which meant doing a lot of the work themselves. Not that they minded, for it was part of the pleasure of having sisters in lacing each other’s stays, and arranging hair fetchingly, but it did mean that it took an excessive amount of time to be finished, and Mama and Charlotte would be pacing about on the landing for some time before they were all ready to go down. They always went down together, all five of them.
Sophia saw Mr Payne at once, for although he was the centre of a group, he was taller than most of the others. Only Mr Godley, the chaplain, could match him for height. It was clear that there was a lively discussion going on, for voices were raised, the duke’s the loudest of all, and Mr Payne’s expression was almost panicked.
In between the duke’s protestations were the quieter but equally determined tones of Richard, mingled with the gently placating voice of Cousin Hester, always one to smooth over any difficulty. It was not quite an argument, perhaps, for Richard never argued, but it was clear from his face that he was displeased. It was what Sophia called his ‘money’ face, the disapproving look when he discovered that one or other of them had exceeded her allowance.
Augusta raised her eyes heavenwards. “Now what is the matter?” she murmured.
Lily had seen them arrive, however, and towed them directly into the middle of the group, breaking up the discussion neatly. “Here is Richard’s family now. Do allow me to introduce them to you, Lady Juliet. This is Mrs Roland Merrington, and here are Miss Merrington, Miss Augusta, Miss Maria and — oh, you know Miss Sophia, of course. Ladies, this is the Lady Juliet Payne andher brother Mr Simon Payne. They have received a letter from the mythical Mr Goodenough. Is it not intriguing?”
In the courteous exchange of bows and curtsies and polite greetings, the argument was dropped, and in a very few minutes Froggett announced dinner and the company filed into the dining room in silence.
For a while, conversation was muted, the company’s attention being absorbed by the dishes before them, and the business of handing round soup and carving the joints, but eventually minds turned to the events of the day. Mr James Hammond, the duke’s secretary and memoirist, already knew the circumstances of the Paynes’ arrival, but Mr Godley, the chaplain, Mr Pyott, the bailiff, and most of the ladies had to have it explained to them.
“But that is extraordinary!” Sophia’s mama cried. “Another letter from Mr Goodenough, just like Rowena’s! What does it mean? What can it possibly mean?”
“It means that someone is stirring up trouble,” Richard said tersely.
“Yes, butwhy?”Mr Hammond said. “One such event might be allowed to pass unchallenged, and especially given the resemblance between Mrs Richard Merrington and his grace’s first duchess. It is clear that someone must have observed Miss Rowena Holt, as she then was, spotted the resemblance and brought her here to please the duke.”
“It is not only the duke who was pleased by the lady’s arrival,” murmured Georgie Hastings, Rowena’s companion.
Everyone laughed, and Richard had the good grace to smile and admit that, indeed, he was excessively pleased that Rowena had come to Staineybank and been so obliging as to marry him.
“But that is nothing to the point,” he said, as ever allowing no diversion away from his argument. “Thenit was easy to see a reason for this false attorney to act, but this case is verydifferent. How did he know that there was an orangery to be built here? We have only talked about it amongst ourselves.”
“My dear Richard,” Georgie said, shaking her head at him, “there cannot be a servant in the house who does not know of the plans, or that you have already been pondering the question for months without arriving at a definitive design. That means that most of Brinshire knows it, too, and a mischievous attorney might well feel that you need a gentle nudge from arealarchitect.”
“But why this one in particular?” Richard said. “I mean no offence, Mr Payne, but I know the names of all the most distinguished architects and yours is not amongst them, nor are you known here. So why were you selected?”
“I cannot answer that particular question, boy,” the duke said, “but certainly the Paynes are very well known to me. Not that I have ever met these particular scions of the family, but I know their father, the Earl of Edlesborough, well enough — as well as I wish to, at any event. You must be Cecilia’s daughter, Lady Juliet — your father’s first wife. You have a look of her.”
Lady Juliet dropped her spoon with a clatter. “You knew my mother?” she said in awed tones.
“My dear lady, everyone knew your mother. She was the toast of society, you know. A great beauty, of course, and so lively. Always good company. She used to hold an afternoon party every other Thursday in the season, and it wastheplace to be, I can tell you. Such an eccentric crowd she gathered around her, not merely the cream of society but also Negros and Russian peasants and the like,interestingpeople, you see. Artists, musicians, poets — she loved to have poetry recited in a grand, melodramatic fashion, and if it should be about love and dedicated to her, so much the better. Everyone adored her. Well, except her husband, of course.” He frowned, suddenly. “Not sure why she married him, to be frank. A less well-matched pairwould be hard to find. His second wife is much more suitable. I suppose she isyourmother.”
He turned his gaze on Mr Payne, who flushed and stammered something inarticulate.
“So why is it that Richard has never heard of you?” the duke said to Mr Payne, his brows lowering ominously. “He is something of an architect himself, in a small way.” Here he threw a fulminating look at his heir. “Cottages, and such like nonsense, but you are supposedly a proper architect, are you not?”
It was Lady Juliet who jumped in to answer. “Simon is fully trained… articled and so forth… but he has yet to make his name. One day he will be famous and his work will be widely admired and copied, but he is still at the start of his career.”
“What have you designed so far?” Richard said.
“He is working on a country house for a London client,” Lady Juliet said. “It is magnificent, but work has not yet commenced.”
“So… nothing, then?” Richard said.
“Nothing substantial built as yet,” Lady Juliet said. “Some stables and such like, but you may examine his sketches if you doubt my brother’s ability, Mr Merrington.”
“I shall look forward to it, if you are here long enough,” Richard said coolly. “Perhaps you should concentrate on your London client, Mr Payne, for your advice is not needed here. You have been brought to Staineybank under false pretences, unfortunately. There is no requirement here for an architect…anotherarchitect.”
“But for comparative purposes… a second opinion, different ideas,” Lady Juliet said eagerly. “There is no harm in that, is there? Perhaps my brother could sketch out a few suggestions, for his grace to adopt or not, as he sees fit. Not a competition, more of a… collaboration.”
