Venetia Read online

  ‘But you give her great cause,’ Damerel said, the smile lingering in his eyes. ‘Had you been a dark beauty the case would have been different, for you might have served as a foil to that insipid blonde of hers. But you are fair, my dear, and you shine that girl down. Believe me, the gold casts the flax into dismal eclipse, which Mrs Scorrier very well knows!’

  ‘By Jupiter, I believe you’re right!’ exclaimed Aubrey, critically surveying his sister. ‘I suppose she is a remarkably handsome girl! People seem to think her so, at all events.’

  ‘And even you allow her to be tolerable! There can be no doubt!’

  ‘Thank you! I am very much obliged to you both!’ said Venetia, laughing. ‘I daresay you know how much I delight in the ridiculous. You will at least do Charlotte the justice to own that she is a very pretty girl!’

  ‘Certainly – in the style of a puppet, without countenance.’

  ‘Well, I see nothing in her above the ordinary,’ declared Aubrey. ‘And unless he was castaway at the time I’m dashed if I know why Conway offered for her!’

  ‘But they will deal charmingly!’ said Venetia. ‘I know exactly why he offered for her! She is pretty, and gentle, she admires him excessively – indeed, I believe she worships him! – she hasn’t two thoughts in her head to bother him, and she will always think he is as wise as he is handsome!’

  ‘In that case he will become wholly insufferable,’ said Aubrey, dragging himself out of his chair. ‘I must go and attend to Bess: she picked up a thorn in one pad.’

  He limped out, and as the door closed behind him Damerel said: ‘I’ve no interest in the fair Charlotte, and less than none in her mama, but I own I have the liveliest curiosity in your brother Conway, my dear delight! What the devil’s the meaning of this freak? What kind of a man is he to have served you such a trick?’

  Venetia considered her brother Conway. ‘Well, he is large, and very handsome,’ she offered. ‘He looks as if he were strongwilled, but in fact he is excessively easy-going, and only now and then obstinate. He is kind, too, and I must say I think it a great virtue in him that he doesn’t take a pet when one roasts him. In fact whenever Aubrey says one of his cutting things to him he is quite proud to think that however puny the poor little fellow may be he has a devilish clever tongue.’

  Damerel put up his brows. ‘But you are drawing the portrait of an estimable man, my dear!’

  ‘So he is – in many ways,’ replied Venetia cordially. ‘Only he is selfish, and indolent, and for all his amiability it is of no use to suppose that he might put himself out for anyone, because without being so disobliging as to refuse outright he would either forget, or discover some excellent reason why it would be much better for everyone if he didn’t bestir himself. He dislikes to be made uncomfortable, you see. And for the rest – oh, he is a bold rider to hounds, a first-rate fiddler, and a tolerable shot! He likes simple jokes, and laughs as heartily when he tells them for the tenth time as he did at the first.’

  ‘Aubrey’s is not the only deadly tongue in the Lanyon family!’ he remarked appreciatively. ‘Now, if you please, explain to me why this ease-loving fellow saddled himself with a termagant for his mama-in-law!’

  ‘Oh, he wanted Charlotte, so he left the future to take care of itself! When Mrs Scorrier made it uncomfortable for him at Cambray he got rid of her, I have no doubt at all, without a disagreeable scene, merely by encouraging Charlotte to fancy herself unwell, and then convincing her, and Mrs Scorrier, and himself as well, that it was his duty to send her home to England. I daresay he would be glad if I would rid Undershaw of Mrs Scorrier, and before he returns, but I doubt if I could, and, in any event, I don’t mean to make the attempt. He must do it himself. He will, too – which is something I fancy she doesn’t yet suspect!’ Venetia gave a little chuckle. ‘Of course he would never quarrel with her at Cambray, where she would have made a great noise, and put him to the blush, but he won’t care a button what noise she makes here! And I shouldn’t wonder at it if he makes Charlotte tell her to go, and goes off hunting all day while she does it!’

  Damerel laughed, but he said: ‘Meanwhile, she is cutting up your peace, confound her!’

  ‘Yes,’ she acknowledged. ‘But it won’t be for long, I trust, and perhaps, if I can but persuade her that I haven’t the least desire to usurp Charlotte’s place, we may contrive to rub along tolerably well.’

  Thirteen

  Venetia’s optimism was soon found to have been misplaced. Within ten minutes of Damerel’s departure hostilities had been resumed, Mrs Scorrier, her eyes gleaming with righteous wrath, seeking her out to demand whether it was true that she had not only welcomed his lordship to Undershaw, but had actually presented him to Charlotte. She had been unable (she said) to credit her ears when Charlotte had informed her of this shocking incident; and while she had discovered already that Miss Lanyon behaved with what to her possibly outdated notions of propriety was unbecoming license, she had not supposed she was so lacking in prudence and delicacy as to permit a man of Lord Damerel’s reputation to set foot within the grounds of Undershaw, much less to introduce him to her brother’s innocent bride.

  Whatever qualms Venetia might, upon sober reflection, have felt on the wisdom of making Damerel acquainted with Charlotte (since to be on calling terms with him could scarcely add to her credit in the district) vanished in a leaping flame of anger. She retorted swiftly: ‘Dear me, ma’am, do you consider Charlotte to be in danger of succumbing to his charms! I should have supposed her to be far too deep in love with my brother – but must bow to your better knowledge of her!’

  ‘Miss – Lanyon!’ ejaculated Mrs Scorrier.

  ‘Well?’ said Venetia, deceptively cool.

  Mrs Scorrier drew an audible breath. ‘I ignore your impertinence. It is quite beneath my notice. But I would have you to know that for a modest female in my daughter’s situation – a stranger to this part of the country, and coming to it without the protection of her husband – to be receiving in her house a man of ill-repute would be grossly improper. Of the impropriety of a single female’s claiming friendship with such a person I say nothing!’

  ‘How should you, indeed? My credit won’t suffer, after all! But for the rest you are very right: it was shockingly thoughtless of me, and I beg your pardon! In the circumstances, Charlotte cannot be too careful, of course. When one thinks how much scandal-broth must already be brewing – oh, have no fear, ma’am! I will tell Damerel he must on no account divulge to anyone that he has even clapped eyes on Charlotte!’

  Unbecomingly flushed Mrs Scorrier said in a voice tight with suppressed fury: ‘Indeed! Indeed, Miss Lanyon? So you fancy your credit won’t suffer? You are strangely mistaken, let me tell you!’ She paused, and Venetia waited, her brows slightly raised, a little contemptuous smile on her lips. It seemed to her that a struggle was taking place in Mrs Scorrier’s bosom; it certainly heaved alarmingly; but after a tense moment or two that lady turned abruptly on her heel, and stalked out of the room.

  Venetia discovered that she was trembling, and was obliged to sit down. It was some time before she was able to recover her composure, and longer still before she could bring herself to acknowledge that the reproof, however offensively delivered, was not wholly without justification, and be sorry for her own loss of temper. She did at last realise it, and, after a struggle quite as severe as any Mrs Scorrier had engaged in, went to offer the lady an apology. It was received with a cold bow, and closely folded lips.

  ‘I ought not to have allowed my indignation to overpower me, ma’am,’ Venetia persevered. ‘I should rather have explained to you that Lord Damerel has been so good a friend to Aubrey that to hear him abused was rather too much for me to bear with patience.’

  ‘We will not discuss the matter, Miss Lanyon. I trust, however, that you will make it plain to Lord Damerel that his visits to Undershaw must cease.’

  ‘No,’ said Vene