‘Will you do it?’ Sophy asked him. ‘If I were to send you word to your lodgings, would you make certain that Charles knows of it? Is he not always at White’s in the afternoon?’
‘Well, you may generally find him there, but I would not say always,’ replied Mr Wychbold cautiously. ‘Besides, I shan’t see you driving off!’
‘You may, if you choose to give yourself the trouble of walking round to Berkeley Square!’ she retorted. ‘If you have word from me, you will know it to be true, and may tell Charles with a clear conscience. I’ll take care he knows of it when he comes home, but sometimes he does not come in to dinner. And that would ruin everything! Well, no! not everything, perhaps, but I have always found it to be an excellent scheme to kill two birds with one stone whenever it may be possible!’
Mr Wychbold gave this his profound consideration. Having turned all the implications of Sophy’s words over in his brain, he said suddenly: ‘Know what I think?’
‘No, tell me!’
‘No wish to throw a rub in the way, mind!’ Mr Wychbold said. ‘Not a particular friend of mine, Charlbury. Very good sort of a fellow, I believe, but he don’t happen to have come much in my way.’
‘But what do you think?’ demanded Sophy, impatient of this divagation.
‘Think Charles may very likely call him out,’ said Mr Wychbold, ‘Come to think of it, bound to! Devilish fine shot, Charles! Just thought I would mention it!’ he added apologetically.
‘You are right, and I am very much obliged to you for putting me in mind of such a possibility!’ said Sophy warmly. ‘I would not for the world place Charlbury in jeopardy! But there will not be the least need for such a measure, you know.’
‘Ah, well!’ said Mr Wychbold comfortably. ‘Daresay he won’t do more than drop him a few times, then! Draw his claret, I mean!’
‘Fisticuffs? Oh no! surely he would not!’
‘Well, he will,’ said Mr Wychbold, without hesitation. ‘Last time I saw Charles, don’t scruple to tell you he was in such a miff with Charlbury he said it would be wonderful if he did not plant him a flush hit one of these days! Devil of a fellow with his fives, is Charles! Don’t know how Charlbury displays: shouldn’t think he would be a match for Charles, though.’ Waxing enthusiastic, he added: ‘Prettiest fighter, for an amateur, I ever saw in my life! Excellent science and bottom, never any trifling or shifting! No mere flourishing, and very rarely abroad!’ he recollected himself suddenly, and broke off in some confusion, and begged pardon.
‘Yes, never mind that!’ said Sophy, her brow creased. ‘I must think of this, for it won’t do at all. If I make Charles angry, which, I own, I wish to do –’
‘No difficulty in that,’ interpolated Mr Wychbold encouragingly. ‘Very quick temper! Always has had!’
She nodded. ‘And would be only too glad of an excuse to hit someone, I have no doubt. Of course, I see how I could prevent him doing Charlbury a mischief.’ She drew a breath. ‘Resolution is all that is needed!’ she said. ‘One should never shrink from the performance of unpleasant tasks to obtain a laudable object, after all! Mr Wychbold, I am very much obliged to you! I now see just what I must do, and I should not be at all surprised if it answeredbothpurposes to admiration!’
SIXTEEN
MISS WRAXTON, LEARNINGof Mr Rivenhall’s consent to his sister’s marriage to Mr Fawnhope, was so genuinely shocked that she could not forbear remonstrating with him. With her customary good sense, she pointed out the evil consequences of such a match, begging him to consider well before he abetted Cecilia in her folly. He heard her in silence, but when she had talked herself out of arguments he said bluntly: ‘I have given my word. I cannot but agree with much of what you have said. I do not like the match, but I will have no hand in forcing my sister into a marriage she does not desire. I believed that she must soon recover from what seemed to me a mere infatuation. She has not done so. I am forced to acknowledge that her heart is engaged: not her fancy only.’
She raised her brows, her expression one of faint distaste. ‘My dear Charles! This is not like you! I daresay I have not far to seek for the influence which prompts you to utter such a speech, but I own that I scarcely expected you to repeat sentiments so much at variance with your disposition, and (I must add) your breeding.’
‘Indeed! You will have to explain your meaning more fully, if I am to understand you, Eugenia, for I am quite abroad!’
She said gently: ‘Surely not! We have so often conversed on this head! Are we not agreed that there is something very unbecoming in a daughter’s setting up her will in opposition to her parents?’
‘In general, yes.’
‘And inparticular, Charles, when it comes to be a question of her marriage. Her parents must be the best judges of what will be most proper for her. There is something very forward and disagreeable in a girl’sfalling in love, as the common phrase is. No doubt underbred persons make quite a practice of it, but I fancy a man of birth and upbringing would prefer to see rather more restraint in the lady he marries. The language you have adopted – forgive me, dear Charles! – surely belongs more to the stage than to your mother’s drawing-room!’
‘Does it?’ he said. ‘Tell me, Eugenia! Had I offered for your hand without the consent of your father, would you have entertained my suit?’
She smiled. ‘We need not consider absurdities! You, of all men, would not have done so!’
‘But if I had?’
‘Certainly not,’ she replied, with composure.
‘I am obliged to you!’ he said satirically.
‘You should be,’ she said. ‘You could scarcely have wished the future Lady Ombersley to have been a female without reserve or filial obedience!’
His eyes were very hard and keen. ‘I begin to understand you,’ he said.
‘I knew you would, for you are a man of sense. I am no advocate, I need scarcely say, for a marriage where there is no mutual esteem. That could hardly prosper! Certainly, if Cecilia holds Charlbury in distaste, it would have been wrong to have compelled her to marry him.’
