Grand Sophy Read online

  ‘No, and we must remember that Charles stipulates that you should find some respectable employment before the engagement is announced.’

  ‘That quite settles it, then,’ said Mr Fawnhope. ‘The question is how far one might, with propriety, employ the methods of the Greek dramatists to overcome the difficulty.’

  ‘Augustus!’ said Cecilia, in a despairing voice. ‘Is your play more to you than I am?’

  He looked at her in surprise, perceived that she was in earnest, and at once took her hand, and kissed it, and said, smiling at her: ‘How absurd you are, my beautiful angel! How could anything or anyone be more to me than my Saint Cecilia? It is for your sake that I am writing the play. Should you dislike the notion of a chorus, in the Greek style?’

  Lord Charlbury, finding that his rival continued, even without the excuse of enquiring after Amabel’s condition, to visit in Berkeley Square, took fright and demanded an explanation of his preceptress. He was driving her down to Merton in his curricle at the time, and when she told him frankly what had occurred, he kept his eyes fixed on the road ahead, and for several moments said nothing. At last, with a palpable effort, he produced: ‘I see. When may I expect to see the announcement?’

  ‘Never,’ replied Sophy. ‘Don’t look so hagged, my dear Charlbury! I assure you, there is no need. Poor Cecy has discovered these many weeks that she mistook her own heart!’

  At that he turned his head quickly to look at her. ‘Is this so indeed? Sophy, don’t trifle with me! I own, I had thought – I had hoped – Then I shall try my fortune once more, before it is too late!’

  ‘Charlbury, for a sensible man you say the stupidest things!’ Sophy told him. ‘Pray, what do you imagine must be her answer in this predicament?’

  ‘But if she no longer loves Fawnhope – if she perhaps regrets turning me off – ?’

  ‘She does, of course, but it is one of those things which appear to be so easy until one considers a little more deeply. Do so! If your situations were reversed – you the impoverished poet, Augustus, the man of fortune – perhaps she might be brought to listen to you. But it is not so! Here is her poet, whom she has declared she will marry in despite of all her family – and you will allow that he has been uncommonly faithful to her!’

  ‘He – ! If he has a thought to spare for anything beyond his trumpery verses I will own myself astonished!’

  ‘He has not, of course, but you will scarcely expect my cousin to believe that! He has attached himself to her to the exclusion of every other female since before I came to England, and that, you know, must rank in the eyes of the world as devotion of no common order! You, my poor Charlbury, labour under all the disadvantages of rank and fortune! How heartless Cecilia must be to cast off her poet to wed you! You may depend upon it that this circumstance weighs with her! Her disposition is tender: she will not, without good reason, inflict pain upon one whom she believes loves her with all his heart. There is only one thing to be done: we must give her good reason for doing so.’

  He knew her well enough to feel a considerable degree of uneasiness. ‘For God’s sake, Sophy, what now do you mean to do?’

  ‘Why, make her feel that it is you who are to be pitied, to be sure!’

  Uneasiness changed to the deepest foreboding. ‘Good God! How?’

  She laughed. ‘I daresay it will suit you better not to know, Charlbury!’

  ‘Now, Sophy, listen to me!’

  ‘No, why should I? You say nothing to the point, and, besides, here we are already, and there is no time to enter upon a discussion! You must continue to trust me, if you please!’

  The curricle was already bowling up the sweep to the Marquesa’s door. ‘The lord knows I don’t, and never have!’ he retorted.

  They found the Marquesa alone, and surprisingly wide-awake. She welcomed Sophy affectionately, yet with a little constraint, and soon disclosed that she had only returned two days since from Brighton, where she had been sojourning for a fortnight.

  ‘Brighton!’ exclaimed Sophy. ‘You told me nothing of this, Sancia! Pray, what took you there so suddenly?’

  ‘But, Sophie, how should I tell you anything when you shut yourself up in a sickroom, and do not visit me any more?’ complained the Marquesa. ‘To remain always in one place – majadero!’

  ‘Very true, but you had the intention of living retired until Sir Horace’s return. I daresay you may have had tidings of him –’

  ‘No, I assure you! Not one word!’

  ‘Oh!’ said Sophy, slightly disconcerted. ‘Well, he had a prosperous voyage, and I daresay he will be with us again at any time now. For it is not likely that at this time of year they will encounter any very unfavourable weather, you know. Has the Duke of York been staying with his brother?’

  The Marquesa opened her sleepy eyes wide. ‘But, Sophie, how should I know? They are alike, the royal princes: gross and – what is it? – embotado! I do not know one from the other.’

  Sophy was obliged to be satisfied. Her escort, when they drove away, asked curiously: ‘Why were you put out, Sophy? Must not the Marquesa follow the rest of the world to Brighton?’

  She sighed. ‘Not if Sir Vincent Talgarth was there also, which is what I fear. I never saw her so animated!’

  ‘Disappointing! She won my heart originally by falling asleep under my eyes!’

  She laughed, and said no more, a slight abstraction possessing her until she was set down in Berkeley Square, and found Mr Rivenhall awaiting her return in considerable ill-humour. This instantly revived her, and she had no hesitation in informing him, upon demand, where she had been.

  ‘You did not go alone!’

  ‘By no means: Charlbury drove me there.’

  ‘I see? First you must set the town talking with Talgarth, and now with Charlbury! Famous!’

  ‘I do not perfectly understand you,’ said Sophy, as one innocently seeking enlightenment. ‘I thought your objection to Sir Vincent was that he has the name for being a great rake. Surely you do not suspect Charlbury of this! Why, you were even desirous at one time of wedding your sister to him.’

  ‘I am even more desirous that my cousin should not earn for herself the reputation of being fast!’

  ‘Why?’ asked Sophy, looking him in the eye. He made her no answer, and, after a moment, she said: ‘What right have you, Charles, to take exception to what I may choose to do?’

  ‘If your own good taste –’

  ‘What right, Charles?’

  ‘None!’ he said. ‘Do as you please! It can be of no consequence to me! You have an easy conquest in Everard! I had not thought him so fickle. Take care you do not lose your other suitor through encouraging this flirtation – for that is all I believe it to be!’

  ‘Bromford? Now, what a shocking thing that would be! You do right to put me on my guard! Charlbury lives in dread of being called out by him.’

  ‘I might have known I should meet with nothing but levity in you!’

  ‘If you will scold me so absurdly. I am not always so.’

  ‘Sophy – !’ He took a hasty step towards her, his hand going out, but almost immediately dropping to his side again. ‘I wish you had never come amongst us!’ he said, and turned away, to lean his arm along the mantelpiece, and stare down at the empty grate.

  ‘That is not kind, Charles.’

  He was silent.

  ‘Well, you will be rid of me soon, I daresay. I depend upon seeing Sir Horace at any time now. You will be glad!’

  ‘I must be glad.’ The words were uttered almost inaudibly, and he did not raise his head, or make any movement to prevent her leaving the room.

  The exchange had taken place in the library. She stepped out into the hall just as Dassett opened the front door to admit Mr Wychbold, very natty in a driving-coat of innumerable capes, shining Hessians, and an enormous nosegay stuck into his buttonhole. He was in the act of laying his tall beaver-hat down upon a marble-topped table, but at the sight of Sophy he used it to lend flourish to