April Lady Read online



  ‘Would it? Then I won’t, of course, and I expect it will answer best for you to approach him, after all,’ said Letty sunnily. ‘The only thing is that perhaps you might not like to tell him that you would make an excellent ambassador, while for me there could be nothing easier.’

  Much moved, Mr Allandale pressed several kisses on to her hands, ejaculating in a thickened voice: ‘So sweet! so innocent! Alas, no, my love! it cannot be! I must be content with what is offered to me – and, indeed, it is more than ever I expected!’

  ‘Well, I am sure it is not more than you deserve,’ said Letty warmly. ‘However, if you believe it would be useless to apply to Lord Roxwell, I won’t tease you. We must think of some other scheme.’

  She spoke with optimism, but Mr Allandale sighed. ‘I wish we might! But my thoughts lead me only to the melancholy necessity of waiting. If your present allowance were secured to you I should be tempted indeed, though I trust I should find the strength to withstand the impulse of my heart. Situated as we both are – you dependent upon your brother’s caprice, I with such charges upon my purse as I cannot but consider sacred – our case is hopeless. One of my sisters is on the point (I hope) of contracting an eligible marriage; my uncle has always promised to present Philip to a living, as soon as he shall have been inducted into Holy Orders, which, I trust, will be this year; but Edward is still at school, and Tom must be sent to join him in September. I could not reconcile it with my conscience, love, to leave my widowed parent to bear, without assistance, these heavy charges.’

  Letty agreed to this, but without enthusiasm. She ventured to say: ‘You don’t feel that perhaps Tom would as lief not go to school?’

  Mr Allandale dismissed unhesitatingly a tentative suggestion which would have won for Letty her future brother-in-law’s esteem and approval.

  ‘Perhaps your uncle would pay for Tom?’

  He shook his head. ‘I fear – You must know that he has himself a numerous progeny, and has, besides, been responsible for a part of Philip’s education. Philip is his godson, but it would not be right to expect him to provide for Edward or Tom.’

  A depressed silence fell. Mr Allandale broke it, saying with a praiseworthy attempt to speak cheerfully: ‘We must be patient. It will be very hard, but we shall have the future to look forward to. Cardross has said that if we are of the same two minds when I return from Brazil he will not then withhold his consent. I believe him to be a man of his word; and that thought, that hope, will help us to bear with fortitude our separation. I do not consider him unfeeling, and I trust he will not forbid us to correspond with each other.’

  ‘He may forbid it if he chooses, but I shall pay not the least heed!’ declared Letty, her voice trembling. ‘Only I am not a good hand at letter-writing, and I don’t wish to correspond with you! I wish to be with you! Oh, don’t talk of our being separated, Jeremy! I can’t bear it, and I won’t bear it! Cardross must and shall continue to pay my allowance!’

  He could not feel hopeful; nor did he think well of a scheme for Cardross’s subjection which depended for its success on her ability to bring herself to the brink of a decline by refusing to let a morsel of food pass her lips. Letty then broke into a passion of weeping, and by the time he had soothed and petted her into a calmer state he was obliged to tear himself from her side. His haggard countenance, when he emerged from the drawing-room, did much to restore Selina’s good opinion of him; and when she found her cousin still hiccuping on convulsive sobs she felt that matters were progressing just as they should. It now only remained for Letty to suffer abominable persecution at the hands of her cruel guardian.

  ‘Well, I had as lief not be persecuted, I thank you!’ said Letty crossly. ‘Besides, he is persecuting me!’

  ‘Not enough!’ declared Selina positively. ‘Do you think, if you threatened to run away, that he would lock you in an attic at the top of the house?’

  ‘No, of course he wouldn’t, you silly creature!’

  ‘They do in general,’ argued Selina. ‘If only you could prevail upon him to, you could throw a note down from the window to me, and I would instantly deliver it to Mr Allandale. He would feel himself bound to rescue you, and then you could fly to the border.’

  ‘That only happens in novels,’ said Letty scornfully. ‘I should like to know how Jeremy could possibly rescue me! Why, he could not even enter the house without knocking on the door, and what, pray, would you have him say to the porter?’

  ‘I suppose there isn’t a secret way into the house?’ asked Selina, rather daunted.

  ‘Of course not! You only find them in castles!’

  ‘No, that is not true at all!’ Selina cried triumphantly. ‘Because I have seen a secret way into quite a commonplace house! I don’t precisely remember where it was, but I drove there when Mama took Fanny and me to stay with my uncle, in Somerset!’

  ‘It’s of no consequence where it is, because there are no secret doors in Grosvenor Square.’

  ‘No,’ agreed Selina regretfully. Another idea presented itself to her, but although her eyes brightened momentarily they clouded at the thought of Mr Allandale gaining an entrance to Cardross House in the disguise of a sweep.

  ‘And now I come to think of it,’ said Letty, clinching the matter, ‘the attics are all as full as they can hold with servants. I wish you will stop talking nonsense, like a goose!’

  ‘It is not nonsense! You did not think it so, when we read that capital story about the girl who was imprisoned by her uncle, so that she should consent to wed his son – the one that had a villainous aspect, and two savage mastiffs, and –’

  ‘Books!’ cried Letty impatiently. ‘But this is real!’

  Eight

  Letty remained in Bryanston Square all day; and great was Mrs Thorne’s delight to find her there when she returned from a protracted shopping expedition with Fanny. Silks and muslins for the making of Fanny’s bride-clothes had been their object; and while the tour of the warehouses had been in the nature of a preliminary skirmish so much had been bought, and so many patterns had been brought home to be studied at leisure that little else was talked of during the remainder of Letty’s visit. Mrs Thorne did indeed notice that she was rather languid in spirit, but this circumstance she ascribed to pique, and paid no heed to it, beyond remarking, not very felicitously, that in spite of her three years’ seniority she had never expected Fanny to go off before her cousin.

  Nell, meanwhile, spent an unexceptionable if rather dull day, and since such sedentary occupations as netting, tatting, knotting a fringe, or trying to bring to a successful conclusion a game of Patience, a new form of recreation which the Prince Regent had been so condescending as to explain to her, left her mind rather too much at liberty to fret over her troubles, she soon began to be sorry she had refused even so mild a form of entertainment as an invitation to practise French country-dances at a select morning-ball. In general, there never seemed to be enough time into which to fit her various engagements, for once the season was in full swing every sort of amusement offered, from Venetian breakfasts to Grand Balloon Ascensions; and in brief respites from these she was either submitting to the ministrations of Mr Blake, who combined a laughable coxcombry with a positive genius for cutting ladies’ hair; or sitting for her portrait to Mr Lawrence. Cardross had commissioned this full-length likeness of his lovely bride, and since Lawrence had become, since Hoppner’s death, the most fashionable portrait painter in England it was going to cost him not a penny less than four hundred guineas. But Mr Blake had given her a smart new crop only a week earlier; Mr Lawrence’s work on the portrait had had to be suspended until he had recovered from an indisposition. She did not care to visit the Royal Academy’s exhibition at Somerset House alone, for that would not only be dull work, but might render her an easy prey to some other unaccompanied lady: probably Miss Berry, whom one ought to admire, but could not contrive to like. L