‘But I did not!’ almost wailed his mother. ‘Charles, I didnot!’
‘One of you must have done so!’ he said impatiently. He turned to his uncle. ‘Well, sir, do you mean to remain there, commending my father’s taste in wine, or do you mean to accompany me to Ashtead?’
‘Set out for Ashtead at this hour, when I have been travelling for two days?’ said Sir Horace. ‘Now, do, my boy, have a little common-sense! Why should I?’
‘I imagine that your parental feeling, sir, must provide you with the answer! If it does not, so be it!Iam leaving immediately!’
‘What do you mean to do when you reach Lacy Manor?’ asked Sir Horace, regarding him in some amusement.
‘Wring Sophy’s neck!’ said Mr Rivenhall savagely.
‘Well, you don’t need my help for that, my dear boy!’ said Sir Horace, settling himself more comfortably in his chair.
EIGHTEEN
THE FIRST FEWminutes following the arrival of the Marquesa’s party from Merton were taken up with that lady’s freely expressed complaints of the situation in which she found herself. The draught occasioned by the opening of the front door, had caused the fire to belch forth clouds of acrid smoke into the hall, and not all Mrs Clavering’s distracted efforts had sufficed to make this apartment look other than neglected. Mrs Clavering, much impressed by the richness of the Marquesa’s attire, stood bobbing curtsies to her; and the Marquesa, quite unimpressed by Mrs Clavering, said:Madre de Dios!If I had brought Gaston it might then have been supportable, and if my cook as well, better still! Why must I come to you in this house, Sophie? Why do you send for me so suddenly, and when it is raining, moreover?Su conducta es perversa!’
Sophy at once told her that she had been summoned to play a duenna’s part, an explanation which made an instant appeal to one in whose veins ran the purest Castilian blood. So well-satisfied was the Marquesa that she forgot to enquire why Sophy had placed herself in a situation that required the attendance of any other duenna than her aunt, but said approvingly that Sophy had conducted herself with great propriety, and she grudged no fatigue in such a cause. After that, she became aware of Charlbury’s presence, and with an effort of memory even recalled his name.
‘Hallo, are you hurt?’ Sir Vincent asked, nodding at his lordship’s arm-sling. ‘How came that about?’
‘Never mind that!’ said Sophy, relieving Charlbury of the necessity of answering. ‘Why areyouhere, Sir Vincent?’
‘That, my dear Juno,’ he replied, his eyes glinting at her, ‘is a long and delicate story. I might, you know, ask the same question. I shan’t, of course, because explanations are apt to be tedious, and what is teasing me more at this present is the far more important subject of dinner. I fear you may not have been expecting so large a party?’
‘No, I was not, and heaven knows what we shall find to eat!’ Sophy admitted. ‘I think, perhaps, I should go into the kitchen, and discover what there may be in the larder. For it is very likely, I must tell you, that my cousin Cecilia will arrive to dine here. And more than probably Charles also!’
‘Oh, Miss Sophy, if only you’d have given us warning!’ exclaimed Mrs Clavering distressfully. ‘I’m sure I don’t know how to contrive dinner, not for the likes of you, miss, for I am not accustomed, and there’s nothing ready but a pig’s cheek, which Clavering fancied for his supper!’
‘It is evident,’ said the Marquesa, removing the plumed hat from her luxuriant curls, and laying it down on a chair, ‘that thismoza de cocinaknows nothing, so that I must exert myself a little. That is bad, but worse,infinitamente, that we should starve. And you will remember it, Sophie, and be grateful to me, so that you do not quarrel with me! For I must tell you,de una vez, that I think it will not suit me to be married to Sir Horace after all, for he is very restless, and Brazil I should not like, but, on the contrary I will remain in England, but an English cook I will not have! So I have married Sir Vincent, and I am now not the Marquesa de Villacañas, but Lady Talgarth, which is a name I cannot pronounceconvenientemente, but no matter! One must accustom oneself.’
This speech not unnaturally stunned her audience into silence for several moments. Sir Vincent drew out his snuff-box, and delicately inhaled a pinch of his favourite mixture. It was he who broke the silence. ‘So the murder is out!’ he remarked. ‘Do notlook so aghast, Sophy! Remember that our dear Sancia is to cook the dinner!’
‘This,’ suddenly announced Mr Fawnhope, who had not been attending to a word of the conversation, ‘is a singularly beautiful house! I shall go all over it.’
He then picked up the lamp from the table, and bore it off towards one of the doors that opened on to the hall. Sir Vincent took it from him, and restored it to its place, saying kindly: ‘You shall do so, my dear young friend, but take this candle, if you please!’
‘Sir Vincent,’ said Sophy, a martial light in her eye, ‘if I were a man, you would suffer for thistreachery!’
‘Dear Sophy, you shoot better than nine out of ten men of my acquaintance, so if any one of us had the forethought to bring with him a pair of duelling-pistols –?’
‘No one,’ said the Marquesa, with decision, ‘shall shoot a pistol, because it is of all things what I most detest, and, besides, it is more important that we should prepare dinner!’
‘I suppose,’ said Sophy regretfully, ‘that that is true. One must eat! But I now perceive how right my cousin Charles was to warn me to have nothing to do with you, Sir Vincent! I did not think you would have served Sir Horace such a back-handed turn!’
‘All is fair, dear Sophy, in love and war!’ he said sententiously.
She was obliged to bite back the retort that sprang to her lips. He smiled understandingly, and moved towards her, taking her hand, and saying in a lowered voice: ‘Consider, Juno!Myneed is far greater than Sir Horace’s! How could I resist?’
‘“Amor ch’a null’amato amar perdona,”’ dreamily remarked Mr Fawnhope, whose peregrinations about the hall had brought within earshot.
‘Exactly so, my poet!’ said Sir Vincent cordially.
‘I need Miss Wraxton to translate that for me,’ said Sophy, ‘but if it means what I think it does it is no such thing! However, there is nothing more foolish than to be making a great noise over what cannot be helped, so I shall say no more. Besides, I have more important things to think of!’
‘Certainly that is so,’ agreed the Marquesa. ‘There is a way of preparing fresh-killed chickens, so Vincent shall at once kill me two chickens, for chickens this woman tells me there are in abundance, and I shall contrive.’
She then withdrew with Mrs Clavering to the kitchen-premises, her demi-train of mull-muslin sweeping regally behind her over the floor, and picking up a great deal of dust on the way. Sophy and Sir Vincent followed her; and as Mr Fawnhope had by this time discovered the library, and had gone in to inspect the books by the light of his tallow candle, Lord Charlbury was left alone. He was soon rejoined by Sir Vincent, who came back into the hall bearing a crusted bottle, and some glasses. ‘Sherry,’ he said, setting down the glasses. ‘If the slaughter of chickens is my fate, I must be fortified. But I trust I shall prevail upon the retainer to commit the actual deed. Howdidyou hurt your arm?’
