Delsie

Chapter Sixteen

DeVigne did not return to the Cottage after leaving with Grayshott, but at about four, Lady Jane came, bringing a picnic basket of comestibles and a ray of sunshine with her.

“What’s new?” she asked merrily, throwing off her cape. “Did anything happen while I was away?”

“I had a visitor. Clancy Grayshott was here,” Delsie replied.

“Has he been pestering you already?”

“Yes, he wanted me to take Bobbie to him at Merton for a few days.”

“It is not to be thought of.”

“I have promised him a visit-I felt obliged to when he discovered she is presently with deVigne.”

“Max won’t like that,” she cautioned.

“DeVigne was here at the time, pacing about the room as you described to me.”

“He came down off his high ropes, did he? I made sure he would be sulking and deprive you of his cheerful presence for a few days, to trim you into line.”

“He cannot be so foolish as to think that would have any effect, but in fact he was in favor of the visit. He wanted me to go at once. When I declined the honor, he invited Clancy to stay the night at the Hall.”

“What!” This startling intelligence brought Jane to indignation. “Glory to goodness, he’s run mad! He and Clancy have been enemies forever. Why, he calls him a mushroom, and worse. I cannot believe he would let you go to Merton.”

“Oh, yes, he quite tried to push me out the door. But it was only to get me out of the Cottage. He would send me to hell itself to have his own way. I wouldn’t leave now if I were to receive an invitation to Carlton House to meet the Prince of Wales.”

“That certainly would not be worth the trip, my dear. So what happened?”

“I refused to go today, but am promised for some future time. Clancy and deVigne left together, chatting as friendly as a couple of schoolmates. Cooking up some vile scheme between them, very likely.”

“I’ve a good mind to nip up to the Hall and discover what is going on. Shall we send Nellie up to see how Bobbie is doing, and have her find out from the other servants?”

“That won’t work. He would not have told the servants anything.”

“Harold is coming over after dinner. He would not be put off, Delsie, but there is a decent library here, and he will not tax us unduly.”

The remainder of the day and the evening were not exciting. Sir Harold’s arrival after dinner did nothing to shorten the lagging hours. He had not seen Max, or heard any news from the Hall. Delsie missed her stepdaughter; she also missed deVigne and the family dinner. She and Lady Jane dined on cold fowl and cheese brought in the basket from the Dower House. They sat together embroidering after Sir Harold left. Mrs. Grayshott was beginning a set of seat covers for her dining-room chairs, and Lady Jane was helping her.

They both retired early, sincerely hoping they would have company in the orchard, as this cramped style of life was not of a sort that could go on indefinitely. But the only sound heard from that direction the whole night long was an owl’s hooting, followed by the terrorized shriek of some small nocturnal creature as he was picked up and carried away,

Early the next morning, deVigne came, carrying Bobbie and Miss Milne with him in his carriage. They arrived just as the ladies were having breakfast, and Max and Bobbie joined them at the table. Delsie fully expected that after refusing Clancy’s offer, she would be more deeply than ever in deVigne’s black books, that he would be pacing the floor and scowling at her, but he was in good spirits. She felt insensibly elated to see it. He complimented her on the progress she was making with her housecleaning, and also on the coffee.

“It was your Nellie who made the coffee,” she confessed. “I must get busy and find myself a new housekeeper. Do you know of anyone who is available, either of you?”

“There’s that Mrs. Lampton whose husband was drowned out fishing last year,” Jane mentioned. “She is looking for a position, I hear.”

“She’s rather old,” Max said. “She would do for a couple of years. Shall I take you to see her, cousin?”

“Yes, please, if you are going to the village. I wonder if she will be more willing to come to me than my two ex-students were.”

“It might be best to wait a few days,” Max said, then looked rather conscious, as though he had said something he hadn’t meant to.

“A few days will make no difference,” Jane remarked.

“Ah, I have just remembered-the auction is this afternoon,” Max said. “I hope to dispose of Andrew’s phaeton and cattle and get a carriage for you, cousin. Have you anything special in mind?”

“I don’t want anything very grand-and only a team, remember. I don’t want to be feeding four horses.”

“It is high time Bobbie had a pony as well. Do you ride, yourself?” deVigne asked Mrs. Grayshott.

“No, I have never learned, and as to a pony for Bobbie, that can wait till spring. The weather is not good. There is no point feeding an extra animal all winter for nothing.”

“You should have a mount,” he persisted.

“Like the pony, it can wait till spring. I’m bound to take a dozen spills, and prefer softer falling than frozen ground.”

“You don’t fool me,” deVigne said, smiling. “It is not the hard falling but the miserly resentment of providing feed that delays the purchase. Clutch-fisted. You’ll be locking up the larder next, and hiding the keys. My girls will not take kindly to such stingy ways.”

Jane looked closely from her nephew to Delsie at this speech. She said nothing, but her face wore a knowing expression.

Delsie replied, “It is not necessary for you to boast of the large way of going on at the Hall. Nellie and Olive have done your bragging for you. We are operating on a tighter budget here, however.”

“How was the onslaught of creditors?” he asked. “The ad has been in the paper since Monday. The local merchants would have seen it and acted by now.”

“There hasn’t been a soul,” she told him. “Not one. The hundred pounds from the grocer seems to be the only money owing. He must have been spending his smuggling money, as you suggested, Lady Jane. How shall I know how much to pay back?”

“That is carrying saintliness too far,” Lady Jane opined. “I know you plan some charitable work with all those bags of gold you keep finding, but surely what Andrew spent before your time may be allowed to go by.”

“What will you do with the twenty-five hundred?” deVigne inquired. For about half an hour they sat chatting in a friendly way, after which deVigne took his leave, promising he would let Mrs. Grayshott know, after the auction, what he had purchased there for her.

“He’s up to something,” Jane advised, the minute they were left alone.

“Uncle Clancy was at the Hall yesterday,” Bobbie said, trying for some attention.

The ladies exchanged a significant glance. “Did he stay overnight?” Mrs. Grayshott asked.

“No, he didn’t stay for dinner either. He just came specially to see me.”

“Did he ask you to Merton to visit him?” Lady Jane queried.

“No. I never visit him. Mama, can I go up and play with my dolls?”

“Miss Milne will want a lesson first, dear.”

“I had an awful lot of lessons at Uncle Max’s place,” she began wheedling.

“Baggage!” Lady Jane laughed.

“That’s good,” her stepmother congratulated. “You want to grow up and be a smart young lady, don’t you?”

“No, I want to be a smuggler, like Darby.”

“What a minx it is,” Lady Jane declared, simulating disapproval, while her eyes danced.

Miss Milne appeared at the door to remove her charge. Over her shoulder, Bobbie said. “I’ll do reading, but I don’t want any ‘rithmetic.”

“As you were saying”-Delsie reverted to a former topic-”deVigne seems in an unusually good mood today. Sat on his chair like a gentleman during the whole visit. Now, why did he have Clancy up to the Hall? I’ll find out what that was about when he brings my carriage, after the auction.”

“It is our having such a flat time of it that has got him back in spirits. He said the smugglers would not come while we are here, and he’s right, as usual. I don’t sleep well in this house, Delsie. I shall go back home tonight. I’ll send the footmen back for the night to protect you. I can’t desert poor old Harold forever. Why don’t you come to me for dinner? Max and Harold must be missing us.”

It was a strong temptation. Delsie toyed with the thought for some minutes, before deciding she would allow a few more nights before she gave up on the pixies. Jane returned to her own home, and Delsie began an inventory of the silver, china, and other valuables belonging to her stepdaughter. Halfway through the cupboards, the dressmaker arrived, in answer to her request, and her work was interrupted for the delightful chore of being measured for gowns and discussing with the woman what patterns and materials to be used.

The time passed quickly. She had not thought it possible for deVigne to be back from the auction so quickly, when he came in just as the modiste was taking her leave. He led Mrs. Grayshott to the front door, to see standing before her a very elegant black carriage and a shiny team of bays to draw it.

“Oh, it’s beautiful!” she exclaimed, overwhelmed at so much luxury. “I must show Bobbie. Surely you didn’t get this lovely outfit for nine hundred pounds?”

“We got a good price for Andrew’s hunters. Macklsey from Merton was there and bid the price up. This whole rig-out will cost you very little more than nine hundred. A good bargain, I think.” He looked to her for congratulations.

“That’s a great deal of money, isn’t it?” she asked, but her demur was only automatic. Her eyes were sparkling and her lips smiling with pleasure. When she climbed into her carriage and sat back against the blue velvet squabs, she felt it was worth every penny of it. Not only Bobbie, but Miss Milne and the young servants from the Hall, ran out to admire this elegant addition to life at the Cottage. Just sitting inside was not enough. The family had to go for a drive for deVigne to demonstrate how well-sprung the coach was. A short run took them to the Dower House for Lady Jane and Harold to admire the acquisition. As it was close to teatime, the group took this repast together with Lady Jane.

When deVigne, Mrs. Grayshott, and Bobbie reentered the new carriage for the return to the Cottage, Max said, “You’ll have no excuse to be missing church now in rainy weather, cousin.”

“Very true. And I must call on Miss Frisk as well, now that I am mobile. It is shocking to have stayed away so long.”

“You’ve been in a state of siege,” he reminded her.

This called to mind Clancy’s visit at the Hall, and she asked him about it.

“I felt one of us ought to be civil to him after his driving from Merton to call. I only had him in for a drink before his long trek home.”

“I thought you didn’t like him.”

“I don’t. I confess I felt rather foolish to be caught red-handed, with my avaricious clutches on Bobbie.”

“What’s avaricious?” Bobbie asked.

“Greedy,” her uncle explained.

“Are you greedy, Uncle Max?”

“Ask your mama. She’s the schoolteacher.”

“Is Uncle Max greedy, Mama?”

“No, my dear, your uncle is not without faults, but I do not find him greedy.”

“What do you find him?” the child asked, occasioning a blush of embarrassment to come to the widow’s cheeks.

“I find him to be present, and it is not nice to discuss a person when he is present.”

“Aunt Jane says it’s not nice to talk about people behind their backs. That means you can’t ever talk about them,” Bobbie pointed out.

“She has a point, you know,” deVigne informed the widow, with a bland face. “For my part, I have no objection to a little discreet puffing up, even in my own presence.”

“How smoothly the carriage took that large bump,” was Delsie’s reply.

They entered the Cottage together, where Bobbie was at last allowed to play with her dolls. “So Aunt Jane does not come to stay with you this evening?” deVigne confirmed. This had been mentioned over tea at the Dower House.

“No, I stay to face the horde alone.”

“Why don’t you go to her?” he said, but in a coaxing way, his dictatorial tone abandoned.

“Pray let us not start that old conversation again.”

“Very well. I’ll send down a couple of men to stay here.”

“Lady Jane is sending some footmen over.”

“Only two, she said. I’ll send a couple more. Are you to dine all alone, then? I am assuming you let Bobbie and Miss Milne return with me.”

“I am used to dining alone. Certainly, take them with you. I don’t wish to put the child in any unnecessary danger.”

“I don’t see why you do it yourself. But you don’t want to discuss that. Let us argue instead the matter of when you and Bobbie are to begin your riding lessons.” This was debated inconclusively till it was time for him to leave. “I’ll take the girls along to the Hall now, and come back to bear you company after dinner, if I may?”

“Don’t feel it necessary. If you have nothing better to do, I should be happy for your company,” she allowed.

“What should I have better to do than make you happy?” he asked with a gallant bow.

“I’d give a monkey to know what you’re up to,” was her undeceived reply. He laughed aloud.

“I see a schoolteacher does not come in the way of many meaningless compliments, which must explain your taking mine so ill.”

“Very true. Our lot is not a happy one, but we are at least spared meaningless compliments.”

“That was gauche of me. Your exception to it is well taken.”

“I should have thought a noble bachelor would be more tactful when trying to bring a lady round his thumb, but perhaps he does not often have to exert himself to please a schoolmistress. And I still don’t know what you are up to.”

“You may be sure I am up to no good,” he warned.

“I know that much!” she retorted, and went off to fetch Miss Milne and Roberta.

Evening was drawing on early now, with winter coming on. Already at six the shadows were being swallowed up by the encroaching darkness. The house seemed utterly silent, except for the ticking of the long-case clock which stood in a corner of the saloon. Delsie was restless. She first set a few stitches in her seat cover, then picked up a book and tried to read. This too was soon cast aside, and she sat looking into the changing pattern of the flames in the grate, wishing she were at the Dower House with Lady Jane, Sir Harold, and deVigne. This was foolishness, depriving herself of so much pleasure for the questionable privilege of spying on a bunch of smugglers. And if she were caught, of being hit on the head. Tomorrow she would go to Lady Jane and admit herself bested.