‘So I believe,’ she smiled.
‘By Jove, you have stolen a march on me, then, for I have hadmy eye on that pair ever since Manningtree sprang ’em on the town! How did you get wind of it, ma’am?’
‘To own the truth, I knew nothing about the matter,’ she confessed. ‘It was Sir Vincent Talgarth who put me in the way of buying them.’
‘That fellow!’ interpolated Mr Rivenhall explosively. ‘I might have known!’
‘Yes, so you might,’ she agreed. ‘He is quite famous for knowing all the news before others have heard even a rumour. May I take you up, Mr Wychbold? If I have stolen a march on you, the least amends I can make is to offer to let you drive my pair.’
‘Don’t hesitate to tell me which of my mother’s or my horses you would like me to remove from the stables to make room for these!’ begged Mr Rivenhall, with savage civility. ‘Unless, of course, you are setting up your own stables!’
‘Dear Cousin Charles, I hope I know better than to put you to such shocking inconvenience! John Potton here has seen to all that.Youare not to be troubled with my horses! Get down, John: you need not fear to let Mr Wychbold have your place, for if the horses should bolt with me he is better fitted to get them under control again then either of us.’
The middle-aged groom, having favoured Mr Wychbold with a long scrutiny, appeared to be satisfied, for he obeyed without making any comment. Mr Wychbold leaped up lightly into the phaeton; Sophy nodded farewell to her cousin; and the bays moved forward. Mr Rivenhall watched the phaeton smoulderingly for a moment to two, and then lowered his gaze to the groom’s countenance. ‘What the devil were you about to let your mistress buy a damned dangerous carriage like that?’ he demanded.
‘Don’t you put yourself in a pucker over Miss Sophy, sir!’ said John, in a fatherly way. ‘Sir Horace himself couldn’t stop her, not when she’s got the bit between her teeth! Many’s the time I’ve told Sir Horace he should have broke her to bridle, but he never done it, nor tried to.’
‘Well, if I have much more –’ Mr Rivenhall pulled himself up short, realizing how improper was this interchange. ‘Damn your impudence!’ he said, and set his grays in motion with a plunge that betrayed the state of his temper.
Mr Wychbold, meanwhile, was most gallantly refusing to take the reins from Miss Stanton-Lacy. ‘Dashed if I ever thought I should say so, but it’s a pleasure to be driven by a lady who handles ’em as well as you do, ma’am! Very sweet-goers, too: shouldn’t be surprised if Charles had had his eye on ’em, which would account for him flying into one of his miffs.’
‘No, no, I am sure you wrong him! He has flown into a miff because I bought them against his advice – indeed, in the face of his prohibition! Do you know my cousin well, sir?’
‘Known him since we were at Eton.’
‘Then tell me! Has healwayswanted to rule the roast?’
Mr Wychbold considered this, but arrived at no very exact conclusion. ‘Well, I don’t know,’ he said. ‘Always one to take the lead, of course, but a man don’t come the ruler over his friends, ma’am. At least …’ He paused, recalling past incidents. ‘Thing is, he’s got an awkward temper, but he’s a dashed good friend!’ he produced. ‘Told him times out of mind he ought to watch that devilish unpleasant tongue of his, but the fact is, ma’am, there’s no one I’d liefer go to in a fix than Charles Rivenhall!’
‘That is a tribute indeed,’ she said thoughtfully.
Mr Wychbold coughed deprecatingly. ‘Never mentioned the matter to me, of course, but the poor fellow’s had a deal to bear, if the half of what one hears is true. Turned him sour. Often thought so! Though why the deuce he must needs get himself engaged to that –’ he broke off in considerable confusion. ‘Forgotten what I was going to say!’ he added hastily.
‘Then that settles it!’ said Sophy, dropping her hands slightly, and allowing the bays to quicken their pace.
‘Settles what?’ asked Mr Wychbold.
‘Why, Cecilia told me that you were his particular friend, and ifyouthink it will not do I need have no scruples. Only fancy, Mr Wychbold, what misery for my dear aunt and those poorchildren to have that Friday-faced creature setting them all to rights! Living under the same roof, and, you may depend upon it, encouraging Charles to be as disagreeable as he can stare!’
‘It don’t bear thinking of!’ said Mr Wychbold, much struck.
‘It must be thought of!’ replied Sophy resolutely.
‘No use thinking of it,’ said Mr Wychbold, shaking his head. ‘Betrothal puffed in all the papers weeks ago! Would have been married by now if the girl hadn’t had to put up a black ribbon. Very good match, of course: woman of quality, handsome dowry, I daresay, excellent connections!’
‘Well,’ said Sophy large-mindedly, ‘if hisheartis in the business, I suppose he must be permitted to have his way, but he shallnotinflict her upon his family! But I do not think his heart has had anything to say in it, and as for her, she has none! There! That is cutting up a character indeed!’
Mr Wychbold, stirred to enthusiasm, said in a confidential tone: ‘Know what, ma’am? Been on the Marriage Mart for two whole years! Fact! Set her cap at Maxstoke last year, but he sheered off. Odds shortened to evens, too, in the clubs, but he got clean away.’ He sighed. ‘Charles won’t. In the Gazette, you know: poor fellow couldn’t declare off now if he wanted to!’
‘No,’ agreed Sophy, her brow creased. ‘Shecould, however.’
‘Shecould, but she won’t,’ said Mr Wychbold positively.
‘We’ll see!’ said Sophy. ‘At all events, I must and I will prevent her making those poor dears miserable! For that is what she does, I assure you! She is for ever coming to Berkeley Square, and casting everyone into the dumps! First it is my aunt, who goes to bed with the head-ache when she has had the creature with her for half an hour; then it is Miss Adderbury, to whom she says the horridest things in that odiously sweet voice she uses when she means to make mischief! She wonders that Miss Adderbury should not have taught the children to read Italian. She is surprised that she makes so little use of the backboard, and tells Charles that she fears little Amabel is growing to be round-shouldered!Stuff!She is trying even to persuade him to take their monkey away from the children. But what is worse than all is thatshe sets him against poor Hubert! That I cannot forgive! She does it in such a shabby way, too! I do not know how I kept my hands from her ears yesterday, for the silly boy had on a new waistcoat – quite dreadful, but he was so proud of it! – and what must she do but draw Charles’s attention to it, pretending to chaff Hubert, you know, but contriving to make it appear that he was for ever buying new clothes, and squandering away his allowance on fripperies!’
‘What a devilish woman!’ exclaimed Mr Wychbold. ‘Must say I shouldn’t have expected Charles to take that kind of thing tamely! Never one to stand interference!’
‘Oh, it is all done with such seeming solicitude that he doesn’t see what lies at the root of it – yet!’ said Sophy.
