False Colours Read online

  ‘You wrong her, Denville! Nothing would prevail upon her to do so!’ She turned her head, looking at him a little shyly, yet openly. ‘I wish you will tell me if this visit of ours is – is quite what you wanted?’

  He replied immediately: ‘How could it have been otherwise?’

  ‘Oh, easily! It was a stupid question to ask you, for you were obliged to give me a civil answer! The thing is that I have a lowering suspicion that Grandmama forced Lady Denville to invite us.’

  ‘I believe it was she who hit upon the notion, but I can assure you that Mama was delighted with it. Can you doubt that I too am delighted?’

  ‘Well, yes!’ she replied unexpectedly. ‘The thought has teased me that although I told you that I had not perfectly made up my mind, I didn’t ask you to tell me whether you, perhaps, had misgivings too. When you left London, it occurred to me – I could not help wondering if – Oh, dear, my tongue is tying itself into knots! You see, I do understand how very awkward it must be for you, if you are wishing you had never offered for me! So don’t stand on points, but tell me if you feel we should not suit, and leave it to me to settle the matter – which, I promise you, I can do, without the least fuss or noise!’

  He put his hand over hers, as it lay on his arm. ‘That is very kind and thoughtful of you!’ he said gravely.

  ‘Well, I know how difficult it is for gentlemen to cry off,’ she explained. ‘It has always seemed to me to be monstrously unjust, too, for you may quite as easily make a mistake as we females are held to do so frequently!’

  ‘Very true! That is to say, I haven’t yet had occasion to consider the matter, but I feel sure you are right.’

  She smiled. ‘Are you ever at a non-plus? That was charmingly said. But let us have no flummery, if you please! And don’t be afraid that you will offend me! Tell me the truth!’

  ‘The truth, Miss Stavely, without any flummery, is that the more I see of you the greater becomes my conviction that you are worthy of a better man than I am.’

  She wrinkled her brow. ‘Is that a civil way of telling me that you would like to cry off?’

  ‘No. It is a way of telling you that you are a darling,’ he said, lifting her hand, and lightly kissing it.

  The words were spoken before he could check them, and with a sincerity which brought a wave of colour into Cressy’s cheeks. He released her hand, thinking: I must take care; and: I have never known a girl like this one. Aloud, he said: ‘Are you afraid to walk on the grass in those thin sandals, or will you let me show you the rose-garden? It is quite at its best – and I have just caught sight of my young cousin! He will almost certainly join us if we remain here, and I wouldn’t for the world expose you to that trial until you have recovered from the fatigue of your journey!’

  Her quick flush had faded; she laughed, falling into step beside him. ‘Yes, indeed! I daresay we must have come quite thirty miles! Is your cousin so very dreadful?’

  ‘Yes: half flash and half foolish!’ he said, handing her down the unevenly flagged steps on to the shaven turf. ‘We were used – my brother and I – to think him an irreclaimable jackstraw, and accorded him the roughest treatment on the rare occasions when we met him.’

  ‘It seems to me that you still do so!’

  ‘Not at all! I took him out to shoot rabbits this afternoon – my life in my hands! That’s quite enough for one day. Seriously, he’s a tiresome youth – what I should describe, if I were talking to one of my own sex, but not, of course, to you, as a shagbag.’

  She said appreciatively: ‘No, of course not! And how would you describe him to me?’

  ‘As a quiz – and bumptious at that! But I’m beginning to think that the fault doesn’t lie altogether at his own door. Are you acquainted with his father? my uncle Cosmo?’ She shook her head. ‘Ah, then that is another treat in store for you! He is one of mother’s brothers, but she seems to suspect that he may be a changeling. Don’t be surprised if he asks you what you paid for your gown, and then tells you where you could have had it made up more cheaply!’

  She was in a little ripple of amusement. ‘I won’t! You can’t think what a relief it is to me to know that you too have relations who put you to the blush! I’m covered with confusion every time I recall that shocking party in Mount Street, with poor dear Cousin Maria putting you out of countenance by saying in a voice to be heard all over London that you were very handsome; and that odious creature, Austin Lucton, trying to buttonhole you! My father was vexed to death when he heard that you did buy his horse! Is it a horrid commoner? Papa says that Austin can never judge a horse.’

  ‘Oh, not a commoner!’ he answered. ‘Just a trifle short of bone! You may see him for yourself: I had him brought down here, and have been hacking him.’

  ‘Not thinking him fit to go in Leicestershire!’ she said. ‘What can have possessed you to buy him? I fear your reputation will be sadly damaged!’

  He chuckled softly. ‘No, will it? That’s famous!’ He read a surprised question in her eyes, and added: ‘No, I don’t mean that! The truth is that I was obliged to purchase the animal – having kept your cousin waiting such an unconscionable time for my decision. Do you hunt, Cressy?’

  She shook her head. ‘No, I’m afraid I don’t. I have been out once or twice with Papa, but not in the shires. You, I know, are what Papa calls one of the Tally-ho sort! I hope you won’t require me to try to emulate you, for I am very sure I couldn’t do so. I like to ride, but I am not an accomplished fencer! To own the truth, I find it very hard to throw my heart over a bullfinch, and I hate drop-fences!’

  ‘Capital!’ he said cheerfully. ‘For my part, I hate hard-riding females! Of late years, I have had little opportunity –’ He caught himself up, and continued smoothly – ‘of observing the prowess of ladies on the hunting-field!’ He stood aside, to allow her to pass through a rustic arch overhung with trailing crimson ramblers. ‘Here, ma’am, we enter into our celebrated rose-garden! Do you like it?’

  ‘Oh, it is beautiful – exquisite!’ she exclaimed, standing at gaze for a minute, before moving forward swiftly to inspect more closely a new specimen, just bursting into full flower.

  ‘Tell Newbiggin so – he’s our head gardener – and you will have made a slave for life! I should warn you, however, that my dear Mama is firmly convinced that she, and she alone, made this garden! And it is perfectly true that it was she who conceived the notion. She was immersed in plans when I left for Constantinople, but –’

  ‘When you left for Constantinople?’ she repeated, looking quickly up at him.

  ‘To visit my brother,’ he said glibly.

  ‘Did you do that? How much I envy you!’

  ‘Are you fond of foreign travel?’

  ‘I have never done any – only in books!’ she said. ‘It was used to be my greatest ambition – to see the world a little – but Papa dislikes foreigners, and I never could persuade him to go even as far as to Paris. You visited your brother in Vienna too, didn’t you? I wish you will tell me about it!’

  There was no difficulty about this; and as they strolled companionably down the paths that separated the rosebeds Kit soon found that her reading had taught Cressy a great deal. She listened eagerly, interpolating an occasional question; and from time to time Kit paused to break off a particularly fine bloom to give to her. When they made their way back to the house she held quite a bouquet, and said, conscience-stricken: ‘If we should meet your gardener now he will become my enemy, not my slave! Tell me, Denville, did your father make the Grand Tour when he was young? Don’t you wish you had grown up then, before the war, when it was thought to be part of a young man’s education to travel abroad, learning to speak foreign languages, seeing how people live in other countries?’

  ‘Except that if my father’s Grand Tour is anything to judge by they went at too early an age, and were hedged about by tu