April Lady Page 13

‘Are you saying she went into Jew King’s place?’

  ‘No. Meant to, but I stopped her.’

  ‘I’m much obliged to you, then! Bird-witted little fool!’ said Dysart savagely.

  ‘Don’t have to be obliged to me: got a great regard for her! Besides, related to Cardross, you know! Dashed well had to stop her. Seemed to be all in a pucker. Very anxious I shouldn’t blab to Cardross. Well, stands to reason I shouldn’t!’

  ‘No, my God! What did she tell you?’

  ‘Just said she wanted a temporary loan. Something she was devilish anxious Cardross shouldn’t discover. Told her I wouldn’t say a word to Giles if she promised to give up the notion of borrowing from a cent-per-cent. So she did, but I ain’t easy. Made up my mind the best thing to do was to tell you, Dysart.’

  The Viscount nodded, and got up. ‘Much obliged to you!’ he said again. ‘I’ll give her pepper for this. I told her that was no way to raise the recruits – damme, I forbade her to, now I come to think of it! Promised her I’d see all tidy. I might have done it, too, if she hadn’t taken a distempered freak into her head. And why she should be cast into high fidgets only because she’s a trifle scorched I’m damned if I know. Anyone would think Cardross was going to discover it tomorrow! Unless I miss my tip, there’s no reason why he should ever know a thing about it, but it’s no use expecting me to raise the wind in the twinkling of an eye. But that’s women all over!’

  He turned to pick up his great-coat. Mr Hethersett watched him shrug himself into it. He was strongly tempted to let him go, but although he was not very hopeful of being able to prevail upon him to approach Cardross, he felt that it behoved him to make the attempt.

  ‘Been thinking about it all day,’ he said. ‘Seems to me Cardross ought to know of it.’

  ‘Well, he ain’t going to,’ replied Dysart shortly.

  ‘Wouldn’t do if he were to get wind of it,’ insisted Mr Hethersett. ‘Wouldn’t like it, if he found her ladyship had been hoaxing him.’

  ‘Now, don’t you start fretting and fuming!’ begged Dysart. ‘I told my sister I’d settle it, and so I will!’

  ‘No business of mine, of course, but how?’ asked Mr Hethersett.

  ‘By hedge or by stile,’ replied Dysart flippantly.

  ‘It won’t fadge. All to pieces yourself. Daresay you’re thinking of a run of luck, but it ain’t when one’s run off one’s legs that one gets the luck: more likely to be physicked! Ever noticed that it’s pretty near always the best-breeched coves who win? Seems to me there’s only one way you can help Lady Cardross.’

  Dysart looked at him with a slight frown creasing his brow. ‘Well, what is it?’

  Mr Hethersett took snuff with deliberation. ‘Best way out of the fix is for her to tell Cardross the whole. Tried to get her to do it, but she wouldn’t hear of it. Seemed to be in the deuce of a quake. No use telling her not the slightest need. Got the notion fixed in her head. I can’t tell him. The thing is for you to do it.’

  ‘I tell Cardross my sister’s swallowed a spider, and is trying to break shins with Jew King?’ gasped the Viscount. ‘Well, I thought you must be a trifle disguised when you asked me to come home with you, but I can see now that you’re either ape-drunk, or touched in your upper works!’

  ‘No, I ain’t,’ replied Mr Hethersett stolidly. ‘I know it’s a dashed difficult thing to do: in fact, it needs a devilish good bottom, but they say you’ve got that.’

  ‘Bottom! A damned whiddling disposition is all I’d need, and I’ll have you know that’s something I’ve not got!’ Dysart shot at him. ‘Cry rope on my own sister? By God, if I hadn’t been drinking your brandy, damned if I wouldn’t tip you a settler, Hethersett!’

  Mr Hethersett was thrown into disorder. It was not that he particularly feared the Viscount’s fists, both of which were suggestively clenched; but that, in face of that fiery young man’s quick wrath, the horrid suspicion assailed him that he had been doing him an injustice. This was a breach of ton the very thought of which made him turn pale. He hastened to make amends. ‘Beg you won’t give the brandy a thought!’ he said. ‘Not that I wish to sport a painted peeper, but shouldn’t like you to feel yourself at a disadvantage. Boot might be on the other leg, too. What I mean is, not a thing I’m partial to, but I can mill my way out of a row.’

  ‘I should like to know what the devil you mean by thinking I’m the sort of rum touch who –’

  ‘Spoke under a misapprehension!’ said Mr Hethersett. ‘Took a notion into my head! Stupid thing to do!’

  ‘What notion?’ demanded the Viscount.

  Mr Hethersett, much embarrassed, coughed. Upon the question’s being repeated, with a good deal of emphasis, he said: ‘Couldn’t think why Lady Cardross should be afraid to tell my cousin she was in debt. Very well acquainted with Cardross, you know. Boys together. Ready to swear he’d give her anything she wanted. Might be in a tweak if she’d taken to gaming but it can’t be that. I mean, she don’t know one card from another! Occurred to me that perhaps it was something Cardross wouldn’t allow.’ He once more studied the design on his snuff-box. ‘Might even have forbidden it. Mind you, very understandable thing for her to do! Persuaded my cousin would think it so, too. Natural affection, I mean.’

  ‘Are you saying you thought she was under the hatches because she’d lent her blunt to me?’ demanded the Viscount.

  ‘Only thing I could hit on!’ pleaded Mr Hethersett. ‘See I was mistaken, of course.’

  The Viscount was just about to tell him extremely forcefully that so far from being responsible for Nell’s difficulties he had had nothing whatsoever to do with them when he suddenly remembered his own obligation to her. It was true that this had not put her in debt at the time; but it was equally true that it had made it impossible for her to pay, later, for a Chantilly lace court dress. For a moment he felt abominably ill-used. She had assured him that she was flush in the pocket; and it was rather too bad of her subsequently to run into debt, instead of exercising a little economy.

  He eyed Mr Hethersett smoulderingly. He had never liked the fellow above half, and to be unable to refute his ignoble suspicions made him seethe with rage. He wanted more than anything to plant him a facer, but since that also, under the circumstances, was impossible, he had to content himself with saying in a voice of ice: ‘Accept my thanks for your kind offices! And rest assured that you have no need to tease yourself further in the matter! I wish you good-night!’

  With these dignified words he picked up his hat and cane, bowed stiffly to his host, and departed. Mr Hethersett, closing the front door behind him, was left to mop his brow, and to wonder what would now be the outcome of the affair. Convinced of Dysart’s innocence, he was still profoundly sceptical of his ability to rescue his sister from the River Tick.

  Seven

  Not very many hours later Nell was surprised and gratified to receive a visit from her brother. She had been hopeful that he would call that day, but since his habits were by no means matutinal she had had no expectation of seeing him until after noon. She and Letty had returned to Grosvenor Square at eleven o’clock, after spending more than an hour walking in Hyde Park, and the Viscount reached the house just as they were rising from the breakfast-table. He declined an offer of breakfast, saying that all he wanted was a word with his sister. From his tone Nell was not encouraged to hope that he had hit upon a solution to her problem; and the look on his face warned her that something had happened to put him out of humour. Letty, with deplorable want of tact, informed him that he looked to be as cross as a cat, and demanded to know the reason. He replied that he was not at all cross, but wished to be private with his sister. Since this could only be regarded as a heavy set-down, Letty instantly took umbrage, and a very spirited dialogue ensued, during the course of which several personalities of an uncomplimentary nature were exchanged. The Viscount emerged victorious
from the engagement, taking unhandsome advantage of his greater years, and informing Letty, with all the air of a sexagenarian, that pertness was neither proper nor pleasing in chits of her age. Unable to think of anything crushing enough to say in reply, Letty flounced out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

  ‘How could you, Dy?’ exclaimed Nell reproachfully. ‘I never heard anything so uncivil! And if we are to talk of impropriety, you know it is quite improper for you to be scolding Letty! You are not her brother.’

  ‘No, and thank God for it!’ he returned. ‘If she don’t take care she’ll grow into one of those hurly-burly women there’s no bearing.’

  ‘But, Dy, why are you so out of reason cross?’

  ‘I’ll tell you!’ he said awfully. ‘And don’t put on any innocent airs, my girl, because you can’t gammon me, or turn me up sweet by making sheep’s eyes at me! You’ve been playing an undergame, and well you know it! What the devil did you mean by going off to Jew King after I’d told you I wouldn’t have you dealing with a cent-per-cent?’

  She looked a little conscience-stricken, but demanded hotly, ‘Did Felix tell you that? I had not thought he could use me so shabbily!’

  The Viscount was incensed with Mr Hethersett, but he informed his erring sister, in a few pithy words, that she might think herself much obliged to him. He then drew a picture of the horrifying fates that overtook persons so cork-brained as to walk into the clutches of usurers; moralized in a very edifying way on the evils of improvidence; and demanded from Nell a solemn promise that she would never again try to visit Jew King, or any other moneylender. ‘And if you think jauntering to ruin is something to go into whoops over,’ he added wrathfully, ‘let me tell you that you much mistake the matter!’

  ‘Oh, no, indeed I don’t!’ Nell said, trying to speak soberly. ‘It – it was just that I c-can’t help laughing when you talk like that about being improvident, and careless, and – and all the things you are yourself, Dy!’ She saw that this remark had had anything but a softening effect, and said contritely: ‘I will never do so again! Of course it would be very bad if I were to continue borrowing, but that I had not the least intention of doing. I should have paid the money back after quarter-day, I promise you!’

  ‘I daresay! And have found yourself in the basket again before the cat had time to lick her ear! Don’t I know it!’ returned the Viscount, with feeling. ‘And why the devil you had to meddle, when you knew I had the business in hand, the lord alone knows!’

  ‘Yes, but I thought perhaps it would be better if I did the thing myself,’ said Nell frankly. ‘In case you did anything dreadful!’

  ‘Oh, you did, did you? Coming it too strong, Nell! What the deuce should I do, pray?’

  ‘Well, to own the truth,’ she confessed, ‘I was afraid you might hold someone up!’

  ‘Afraid I might hold someone up?’ gasped Dysart. ‘Well, upon my soul! A pretty notion you have of me, by God!’

  ‘You held me up!’ Nell pointed out. ‘And if I hadn’t recognized you you would have robbed me – you know you would!’

  ‘If that doesn’t beat all hollow!’ ejaculated Dysart. ‘When all I meant to do was to have sold your curst jewellery for you! If you think I should have kept a groat of the ready for myself, you’re fair and far off, my girl!’

  ‘No, but it was a desperate thing to do, Dy, and it quite cut up my peace. I can’t but wonder what next you may do, which puts me in high fidgets. Because –’

  ‘Gammon!’ interrupted Dysart. ‘Why, I wasn’t even going to take Letty’s trinkets! What’s more, this is all humdudgeon! You wouldn’t have cared a button for losing your jewels – now, would you?’

  ‘N-no, but –’

  ‘And you’d have been devilish thankful not to have recognized me, if I’d handed over the dibs to you next day. And it’s my belief,’ pursued the Viscount relentlessly, ‘that you’d have taken good care not to have asked me how I’d come by them!’

  Stricken, she said: ‘Oh, Dy, I am sadly afraid that that is true! It is the most mortifying reflection, too!’

  ‘Stuff!’ said the Viscount contemptuously. ‘Now, there’s no need for you to sit there looking as blue as a razor, Nell! I don’t mean to leave you in the lurch, I promise you. I’ve got one or two capital notions in my head, but I can’t raise the wind all in a trice, so it ain’t a bit of use fretting like a fly in a tar-box, and wanting to know every time you see me what I’ve been doing! Give me a week, and see if I don’t have the business blocked at both ends!’

  She regarded him in some apprehension. ‘What notions have you in your head, Dy?’

  ‘Never you mind!’ he replied crushingly. ‘One notion I’ve got is that the less you know about it the better!’

  Her apprehension grew; she said: ‘I won’t tease you, but I think I would rather know!’

  ‘Yes, I daresay, but you can’t expect me to pull you out from under the hatches if you turn maggotty every time I hit on a scheme,’ said the Viscount. ‘And that’s just what you would do, for you seem to me to be regularly betwattled!’

  ‘I am very sorry!’ she said humbly. ‘I do try to take it with composure, but it is excessively hard to do so when one is in such affliction, Dy! Every time I hear the door-knocker I think it may perhaps be Lavalle, coming to demand her money from Cardross, and alarm suspends all my faculties!’

  ‘Now, don’t be such a goosecap, Nell!’ recommended the Viscount, putting his arm round her shoulders and giving her a slight hug. ‘She won’t do that. Not for a week or two, at all events. You may depend upon it she knows, if you don’t, that it must take you a little while to raise the ready. Ay, and unless she’s as big a greenhead as you are yourself, which it stands to reason she can’t be, she knows you will pay her,’ he added shrewdly. ‘All she meant to do was to frighten you into paying down the dust as soon as possible. She’ll give you a week’s grace at the least, and very likely longer. When does Cardross come back to town?’

  ‘On Monday, I think. I am not perfectly sure, but he said that he would be away for a se’ennight.’ Nell was silent for a moment, and then said, turning her face away: ‘I quite dread his coming, and that is more lowering than all the rest!’

  He was spared the necessity of answering her by Letty’s coming back into the room at that moment. She was wearing her hat, and a light shawl, draped gracefully across her elbows; and she had come merely to take leave of Nell, and to inform her that she should send the carriage back immediately from her aunt’s house, in case her sister should be needing the services of the coachman. She pointedly ignored the Viscount, but kissed Nell’s cheek very affectionately, and told her not to dream of sending the carriage to fetch her away from Bryanston Square, since her aunt would undoubtedly provide for her safe return.

  ‘All that finery just for an aunt?’ said Dysart, critically surveying her. ‘I must say, that’s a deuced fetching bonnet!’

  Becoming aware of his existence, Letty raised her brows as haughtily as she could, and said in freezing accents: ‘You are too kind, sir!’

  ‘Silly chit!’ said Dysart indulgently.

  Her eyes flashed, but Nell intervened hastily, before she could again cross swords with her incorrigible tormentor. ‘You look charmingly,’ she assured her, edging her towards the door. ‘I will come and see you into the carriage. Will you be warm enough, do you think, with only that shawl?’

  ‘No, I daresay I shan’t be,’ Letty replied candidly, ‘but it is so dowdy to wear a pelisse!’ She paused in the hall to draw on her gloves, and said in a brooding tone: ‘I don’t wish to distress you, Nell, but I think Dysart is the most odious, uncivil person I ever met!’

  Nell laughed. ‘Yes, indeed! I am sure you must. The thing is, you see, that because you are my sister he treats you as though you were his as well.’

  ‘My brother has a great many fault
s, but he doesn’t use me in that fashion!’

  ‘No, for he is so much older than you. If you had had one of your own age you wouldn’t be such a goose as to let Dy put you in a miff,’ Nell said, smiling.

  ‘I am excessively thankful that I have not one, and I assure you, Nell, I feel for you!’

  ‘Thank you! Mine is a hard case indeed,’ Nell said, her eyes brimful of amusement. ‘You nonsensical creature! There, don’t take me in aversion as well! Good-bye: you will say everything from me to your aunt that is proper, if you please. I fear she may hold me to blame for your neglect of her, but I hope she may give me credit for sparing you to her today.’

  She spoke lightly, but she was very sensible of Mrs Thorne’s claims on Letty. Cardross, believing that Letty’s faults were to be laid at the poor lady’s door, might wish to detach her from that household, but Nell could never bring herself to promote this object. Indeed, she had more than once suggested to Letty that she should pay her aunt a morning visit. It did not surprise her to learn that Mrs Thorne thought herself ill-used, for she too thought that Letty showed sadly little observance to one who had stood to her in place of her mother. She would, in fact, have been very much surprised had she known that so far from begging her niece to visit her that morning Mrs Thorne had not the smallest notion that she was to receive this treat, and had gone out with her daughter Fanny on a tour of the silk warehouses.

  It was Miss Selina Thorne who awaited Letty; and as soon as she saw the carriage draw up outside the house she came running down from the drawing-room to greet her, which she did with every manifestation of surprise and delight, whispering, however, in a very dramatic way, as she kissed her: ‘Have no fear! All is safe!’

  She then said, for the benefit of the servant who had admitted Letty into the house: ‘How glad I am I didn’t go with Mama and Fanny! Come upstairs, love: I have a hundred things to tell you!’

  She was a fine-looking girl, a little younger than Letty, but very much larger. Beside her exquisite cousin she appeared over-buxom, a little clumsy, but she did not resent this in the least. She was as goodnatured as her mother, liked to think that she had a great deal of sensibility, and had so romantic a disposition that she was inclined to think real life wretchedly flat, and to fancy that she would have found herself very much more at home in one of Mrs Radclyffe’s famous novels. Having swept Letty up to the drawing-room, she shut the door, and said, lowering her voice conspiratorially: ‘My sweetest life, such a morning as I have had! I thought we must be wholly undone, for Mama almost commanded me to go with her! I was obliged to prevaricate a little: I said that I had a headache, and so it passed off at last, though I was frightened almost out of my senses by her dawdling so much that it seemed she and Fanny would not be gone before you reached the house! How delightfully you look! Mr Allandale will be in raptures!’