False Colours

3

These lighthearted words, uttered with no other purpose than to banish the woebegone expression from Lady Denville’s face, were productive of an unexpected result. She had relaxed within Kit’s arm, leaning her head on his shoulder, but his frivolous speech acted on her like a powerful restorative. She sat up suddenly, and, staring at him with widened eyes, breathed: “Kit! The very thing!”

Startled, he said: “I was only funning, Mama!”

She paid no heed to this, but embraced him warmly, saying: “I might have known you would come to the rescue! How could I be such a ninnyhammer as not to have thought of it myself? Dear Kit!”

Mr Fancot, realizing too late that he had committed an error of judgement, made haste to retrieve his position. “You didn’t think of it because it’s an absurdity. I said it only to make you laugh! Of course I couldn’t take Evelyn’s place!”

“But you could, Kit! Why, you have frequently done so!”

“When we were hey-go-mad boys, kicking up larks! Mama, you must surely perceive that this is a very different matter! Setting aside all other considerations, how could I hope to fob myself off as Evelyn at such a gathering?”

“But nothing could be easier!” she responded.

“Mama, do, pray, consider! I apprehend this party is to be composed of the various members of the family. Well, I know Stavely, admittedly, but not another soul should I recognize—least of all the girl to whom I should be supposed to be betrothed!”

She disposed unhesitatingly of this objection. “You will recognize Cressy, because she will receive you, with Stavely and his new wife. As for the rest, Evelyn doesn’t know them either.”

“And Miss Stavely herself?” he demanded. “Can you believe that she wouldn’t detect the imposture?”

“Oh, I am persuaded she won’t!” responded her ladyship blithely. “Recollect that she is not closely acquainted with Evelyn! The only occasion on which they have been alone together was when he proposed to her. Then, too, she doesn’t expect to see you instead of Evelyn. That is very important!”

“Of course she doesn’t expect it! But—”

“No, no, you don’t understand what I mean, dearest! It won’t occur to anyone that you are not Evelyn, because no one knows that you’ve come home. It would be a very different matter if you resided here, when people would be accustomed to find themselves talking to the wrong twin. You can’t have forgotten how it was before you went abroad! Why, persons who had known you from your cradles were used to say, when either of you came into the room: “Now, which of them is this?” Then there was always the possibility that the one who was thought to be Evelyn would presently be found to be you, so that people naturally stared very hard at you, trying to decide which of you it was. But you have been abroad now for three years, and no one wonders any more if Evelyn is really Evelyn. He couldn’t be you, because you are in Vienna. My dear, providence must have caused you to arrive at this ridiculous hour, and without a word of warning! Not a soul has the smallest suspicion that you are not still in Vienna!”

Mr Fancot was much inclined to think that not providence but his evil genius had been at work, but he kept this reflection to himself, applying his energies instead to the task of pointing out to his parent the various reasons which made her scheme impossible. He was singularly unsuccessful. The more Lady Denville dwelled on it the more enamoured of it did she become; and when Kit told her that it was fantastic, she said enthusiastically: “Yes, isn’t it? That’s what makes it so excellent! Nobody would ever dream we should dare do anything so out of the way!”

“Not out of the way! Outrageous!”

She looked at him with misgiving, and said: “You know, Kit, I never did quite like it when you joined the diplomatic service. I had the greatest dread that you might grow to be like Henry, and I was right! Dearest, I hate pinching at you, but I couldn’t bear it if you became prim and prosy!”

“Oh, dear!” said Kit, dismayed. “Am I prim and prosy? I’d no suspicion of it!”

“No, love,” she replied, patting his hand. “Naturally you had not, which is why I feel it to be my duty to drop a word of warning in your ear, so that you may overcome the tendency. You’re not like Henry yet, but when you said outrageous, in that condemning way, you did put me in mind of him. You didn’t care a rush about doing outrageous things before he pushed you into being a diplomat, and never would you have raised all the foolish objections!”

“I was three years younger then, Mama.”

“So was Evelyn, but he hasn’t changed! In your place he wouldn’t hesitate for a moment, or think about propriety, or be afraid to take a trifling risk or two! I can’t think what has come over you, Kit!”

“The diplomatic service, and a want of dash. Alas that you should have given birth to a pudding-heart, Mama!”

“That I would never believe!” she declared.

“Thank you, love! It pains me to disillusion you, but when I think of coolly walking into Stavely’s house, and palming myself off as Evelyn, I find myself shaking like a blanc-manger!”

She laughed. “Oh, no, Kit! That’s coming it too strong! You never did so in your life. I know very well you are not afraid, but you do seem to me to be sadly cautious!” She put up her hand to his cheek, compelling him to turn his head fully towards her. “Don’t banter me, but tell me the truth, wicked one! Do you think you couldn’t do it?”

He hesitated. Then he said bluntly: “No. For one evening, amongst a set of persons who are not well enough acquainted with Evelyn to know his mannerisms, I’m pretty confident I could do it. And, in certain circumstances, I’m not yet so prim and prosy that I shouldn’t enjoy doing it!”

“There!” she said triumphantly. “I knew you couldn’t have changed so very much!”

“No, Mama, but this isn’t a matter of playing a Canterbury trick on people who would think it a very good joke if they found me out. But to cut such a sham to gain an advantage is quite another pair of shoes. And only think, Mama, what a humiliating insult I should be offering to Miss Stavely!”

“I don’t see that, Kit. For one thing, she won’t know it; and, for another, she would be much more humiliated if you didn’t take Evelyn’s place. Do but consider! Can you conceive of anything more—more annihilating than to be obliged to tell all the relations who have been invited to meet one’s betrothed that he has excused himself from attending the party? For my part, I should be grateful for the masquerade!” She caught his hand, and pressed it. “Kit, for Evelyn’s sake! He would do it for you!”

That was undeniable. Evelyn would do it, and revel in it, thought his twin, with a gleam of amusement.

“Only for one day!” urged Lady Denville.

“If we could be sure of that! What if it should prove to be very much more than one day? I couldn’t maintain such an imposture: I should be bound to run against his cronies—some, perhaps, whom I shouldn’t even recognize!”

“Oh, if Evelyn doesn’t come back in a day or two, we shall say you are unwell, or have been obliged to leave town on business! But he will, Kit! Indeed, I have a feeling that he will return tomorrow.”

“I hope to God he does!” said Kit fervently.

“Yes, but we must be provident, dearest, and be ready to meet any mischance. And, do you know, I have suddenly thought that it might be a good thing if you should be obliged to go to the party in his stead! I very much fear that old Lady Stavely has heard tales about him which have made her suspect him of being rather wild—in fact, quite ramshackle, which is untrue, of course, or, at all events, grossly exaggerated! And although he means to behave with the greatest propriety I can’t help thinking that you would deal with her much better, through being a diplomat, and knowing how to look grave and sober at formal parties, which Evelyn hasn’t the least idea of. I won’t conceal from you, Kit, that if Cressy’s aunts and uncles and cousins are a set of dead bores, which is extremely likely—only consider one’s own relations!—I have the liveliest fear that Evelyn will say something outrageous, or excuse himself far too early in the evening, which would be fatal!”

“If Evelyn does not return tomorrow,” said Kit, with feeling, “I’ll wring his neck the instant I set eyes on him! And if he does return neither he nor you, my very dear Mama, will persuade me to take his place at this party! Nothing short of the direst necessity would induce me to do so!”

“No, dear, and we must hope there won’t be any necessity,” she agreed cheerfully. “But just in case there should be you won’t object to pretending you are Evelyn for a little while, will you? I mean, until he arrives, which I dare say he will, for even he couldn’t be quite so forgetful, do you think? But if he doesn’t it would be most unwise to let the servants know the truth.”

“Good God, Mama, do you imagine they won’t recognize me?”

“Well, the maidservants won’t, and the footmen won’t, and Brigg won’t either, because he is getting so short-sighted and deaf. We ought to engage a younger butler, but when Evelyn only hinted to him that he should retire on a very handsome pension he was thrown into such gloom that Evelyn felt obliged to let the matter drop.”

“And what of Mrs Dinting?” interposed Kit.

“Why should she suspect anything? If you were to encounter her, you have only to greet her, as Evelyn would, quite carelessly, you know. Depend upon it, she won’t even wonder if you’re Kit, because she would never believe you would come home after all these months and not pay a visit to the housekeeper’s room to have a chat with her. Then, too, she will have been told that Evelyn is home, and why should she call it in question?”

“Who is going to tell her this whisker? You?”

“No, stupid! The servants will see that the candle that was set on the hall-table for Evelyn has gone, and the whole household will know that he has returned before you are even awake.”

“Including Fimber! I collect he won’t recognize me either? Mama, do come out of the clouds! A man who valeted us both when we were striplings!”

“I am not in the clouds!” she said indignantly. “I was about to say, when you interrupted me, that we must take him into our confidence.”

“Also Challow, your coachman, the second groom, all the stableboys,—”

“Nonsense, Kit! Challow, perhaps, but why in the world should the others be told?”

“Because, my love, there is a phaeton and four horses to be accounted for!”

She thought this over for a moment. “Very true. Oh, well, we must trust Challow to do that! You can’t think he won’t be able to: recollect what convincing lies he was used to tell when Papa tried to discover from him what you had been doing whenever you had slipped away without telling anyone where you were going!”

“Mama,” said Kit, “I am going to bed! I haven’t given back—don’t think it!—but if I argue with you any more tonight I shall end with windmills in my head!”

“Oh, poor boy, of course you must be fagged to death!” she said, with ready sympathy. “Nothing is so fatiguing as a long journey! That accounts for your perceiving so many difficulties in the way: it is always so when one is very weary. Go to bed, dear one: you will feel much more yourself when you wake up!”

“Full of spunk—not to say effrontery, eh?” he said, laughing. He kissed her, and got up. “It’s midsummer moon with you, you know—but don’t think I don’t love you!”

She smiled serenely upon him, and he went to retrieve his belongings from the half-landing, and to carry them into Evelyn’s bedroom.

He was so tired that instead of applying his mind to the problems confronting him, as he had meant to do, he fell asleep within five minutes of blowing out his candle. He was awakened, some hours later, by the sound of the blinds being drawn back from the windows. He raised himself on his elbow, wondering, for a moment, where he could be. Then he remembered, and lay down again, rather mischievously awaiting events.

The curtains round the bed were pulled apart with a ruthlessness which was a clear sign to the initiated that the supposed occupant of the great four-poster was in his devoted valet’s black books. Kit yawned, and murmured: “Morning, Fimber: what’s o’clock?”

“Good morning, my lord,” responded Fimber, in arctic accents. “It is past ten, but as I apprehend that your lordship did not return until the small hours I thought it best not to wake you earlier.”

“No, I was very late,” agreed Kit.

“I am aware of that, my lord—having sat up until midnight, in the expectation of being required to wait on you.”

“Stupid fellow! You should have known better,” said Kit, watching him from under his eyelids.

The expression of cold severity on Fimber’s face deepened. He said, picking his words: “Possibly it did not occur to your lordship that your continued absence would give rise to anxiety.”

“Lord, no! Why should it?”

This careless rejoinder had the effect of turning the ice to fire. “My lord, where have you been?” demanded Fimber, abandoning his quelling formality.

“Don’t you wish you knew!”

“No, my lord, I do not, nor it isn’t necessary I should know, for what I do know is that you wouldn’t have been so anxious not to let me go with you if the business which took you off had been as innocent as you’d have me believe. Nor you wouldn’t have sent Challow home! You should think shame to yourself, staying away all this time, and never sending her ladyship word to stop her fretting herself to ribbons! For anything she knew you might have been dead! Now, just tell me this, my lord, without trying to tip me a rise, which you know you can’t do!—are you in a scrape?”

“I don’t know,” replied Kit truthfully. “I hope not.”

“So you may well, my lord! At a time like this! If it’s serious, tell me, and we’ll see what can be done.”

“I can’t tell you what I don’t know, Fimber.”

“Indeed, my lord?” said Fimber ominously. “I should have thought that your lordship knew I could be trusted, but it seems I was mistaken.” He turned away, deeply offended, and walked across the room to where Kit’s open portmanteau stood. Kit had done no more than drag his night-gear out of it, considerably disarranging the rest of its contents. Muttering disapproval to himself, Fimber stooped to unpack it. He lifted up a waistcoat, took one look at it, and turned swiftly to find Kit watching him quizzically. He stood staring for an incredulous moment, and then gave a gasp. “Mr Christopher!”

Kit laughed, and sat up, pulling off his night-cap. “I thought you were the one person we couldn’t hoax! How are you, Fimber?”

“Quite stout, thank you, sir. And you wouldn’t have hoaxed me for long! To think of you taking us all by surprise like this! Does her ladyship know?”

“Yes, she heard me come in, and got up, hoping to see my brother.”

“Ay, no wonder! But I’ll be bound she was glad to see you, sir. Which I am too, if I may say so.” He glanced critically at the waistcoat he was holding, and sniffed. “You never had this made for you in London, Mr Christopher. You won’t be wearing it here, of course. Is that foreign man of yours bringing the rest of your baggage after you?”

“No, it’s coming by carrier. I haven’t brought Franz with me. I knew I could depend on you to look after me.” Receiving no immediate response to this, he said, surprised: “You’re not going to tell me I can’t, are you? Fimber!”

The valet emerged with a start from what bore all the appearance of a profound reverie. “I beg your pardon, sir! I was thinking. Look after you? To be sure I will!” He added, as he laid the condemned waistcoat aside, and picked up the greatcoat which Kit had flung across a chair: “And time I did, Mr Christopher! These Polish coats are gone quite out of fashion. Nor you can’t wear that shallow in London: the present mode, sir, is for high crowns.”

“Never mind my dowdy rig!” said Kit. “What the devil is my brother doing?”

“I don’t know any more than you do, sir, and it’s got me all of a twitter! It might be that he went off in one of his distempered freaks, and yet I don’t think it, somehow. My lady will have told you that he’s in a way to become buckled?”

“She did, but he has never so much as given me a hint of it,” replied Kit grimly. “Something damned brummish about the business! Well, if anyone knows the truth you do, so tell it to me, without any hiding of the teeth! Is he turning short about?”

“No, that I’ll go bail he’s not!” Fimber replied. “No one knows better than me the sort of bobbery he’ll get up to when he’s in high leg, but he wouldn’t play nip-shot now—not when he’s made the young lady an offer! What’s more, he wasn’t poking bogey when he told me, and her ladyship too, that he would be back within the sennight, for he bid me to be sure to engage the barber to come to trim his hair today. He will be here, sir, at noon.”

“And what, pray, has that to do with me?” asked Kit, eyeing him with misgiving.

“It occurs to me, sir, that you are wearing your hair too long. His lordship favours more of a Corinthian cut.”

“Oh, does he? Now, you may stop pitching your gammon, and tell me this!—Are you thinking that I might take my brother’s place tonight?”

“Well, sir,” said Fimber apologetically, “the notion did cross my mind! It seems as if it was meant, you coming home without a soul’s being the wiser, and not bringing that foreigner with you—and no need to worry about your baggage, for you may leave it to me to see it safely stored. No need to worry about your clothing either, because his lordship has enough and to spare for the pair of you. Nor it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve changed shoes with him, not by any means it wouldn’t be!”

“The circumstances were very different. I’ve told my mother that already.”

Fimber turned a shocked countenance towards him. “You told my lady you wouldn’t help his lordship to bring himself home? Well! Never did I think to see the day when you would not be ready to through stitch in anything for his sake, Mr Christopher! As he would for you, no matter what might come of it!”

“I know that. Nor would I hang back an instant, however much against the pluck it might be, if I were convinced it was what he wished me to do. But that’s where the water sticks, Fimber: I’ve a strong feeling that there’s nothing he wishes less than to marry Miss Stavely. If that’s so, I should be better employed trying my possible to bring him safe off.”

“You can’t do that, sir! Why, he’s offered for her! You wouldn’t have him play the jack, putting such a slight on the poor young lady—no, and he wouldn’t do it! I don’t say he hasn’t often set people in a bustle with his starts, but I’ve never known him behave ungentlemanly, not in all the years I’ve served you both!”

“I was wondering rather if I couldn’t contrive to get Miss Stavely to cry off. I wish you will be open with me! Don’t try to persuade me that he isn’t blue-devilled: I know he is!”

“Well, sir, since you ask me, in my opinion he wasn’t near as blue-devilled when I saw him last as what he has been ever since—” Fimber broke off in embarrassment.

“Ever since when? Go on, man!” said Kit impatiently.

Fimber began with finicking care to fold the despised waistcoat. His reply was evasive. “It is not my place, Mr Christopher, to speak of the circumstances which might have caused his lordship to offer for Miss Stavely, but he didn’t make up his mind to it in the twinkling of a bedpost, as you might say. So don’t you get to thinking that he did it on the spur of the moment, and was sorry for it after, because that’s not so. I’m not saying it was what he’d have chosen to do, for often and often he’s told me that he’s got no fancy to become a tenant-for-life, never having met any female he didn’t think a dead bore after a month or two. Well, I didn’t pay much heed to that, not at first, thinking he’d get to be more sober when he was older, like you have, sir.” He paused, looking undecidedly at Kit. Then he said, as though impelled: “Mr Christopher, there’s not a soul I’d say this to but yourself, but the truth is I’ve been regularly worried about him! Let alone that he’s been going the pace more than he should, he’s more rackety than ever he was when it was to be expected that he should always be prime for a lark, and he’s beginning to take to the muslin company—which is what has me in a worse fret than all the rest!”

Kit nodded, but said frowningly: “It sounds to me as if he were bored, or out of spirits. That always made him resty. But why?”

“I couldn’t say, sir, not to be sure. Unless it might be that he’s lonely.”

“Lonely? Good God, he has a host of friends!”

“In a manner of speaking, sir. But I wouldn’t call them intimate friends—not such as he’d tell his mind to, the way he would to you. He’s never been quite the same since you went away, though it’s hard to explain what I mean, and no one that didn’t know him as well as I do would notice it. I dare say it comes of being a twin. You was always so close, the pair of you, that you never wanted any other cronies. His lordship never took anyone into his confidence but you, and it’s my belief he won’t, except, maybe, his wife. It may be otherwise with you, but—”

“No,” Kit said slowly. “I hadn’t considered it, but it isn’t otherwise. But I have a good deal to occupy me, and he hasn’t.”

“Exactly so, Mr Christopher, and that’s where the mischief lies, as I don’t doubt her ladyship would tell you.”

“She has told me. But whether the remedy lies in marrying him to a girl he don’t care a rap for I strongly doubt.”

“Well, sir, it isn’t what one would have chosen, but the way he’s carrying on now he never will be married. What’s more, if my Lord Brumby was to discover the sort of company he keeps he wouldn’t end that Trust a day before he was obliged to. If you’ll pardon my saying so, sir, your father may have meant it for the best, but he served his lordship the worst turn he could, when he put that slight on him!”

“Took it very much to heart, didn’t he? That was the only time he ever buttoned up against me. He barely spoke about it. I was afraid it would rankle.”

“Yes, sir, and so it has! It wasn’t a bit of use trying to persuade him that the thing to do was to prove to my Lord Brumby that he was very well able to manage his affairs. Well, you know what he is when he’s been put into a real flame, Mr Christopher! Not a bit of interest will he take in his estates: it’s seldom he even visits them, which isn’t surprising, for he’s got no power to do a mortal thing without he has his uncle’s leave, and I know well he feels downright humiliated.”

“As bad as that, is it? Damnation! I wish I had been at home! I might have been able to bring him and my uncle together. They never liked one another, but my uncle would have been willing to have given Denville a pretty free hand in the management of the estates, had he wished for it’

“That wouldn’t have done for his lordship, sir. It’s all or nothing with him.”

Kit was silent for a minute or two. “So, to put him in possession of his estates we help him into this loveless marriage, do we?”

“You may take it that way if you choose, sir, but there’s many such marriages which have turned out well. From all I hear, Miss Stavely is a very agreeable young lady, not one of the giddy sort, but with a head on her shoulders. It wouldn’t surprise me if his lordship grew to be fond of her.”

“That would be something indeed!”

“Yes, sir, it would. I’ll fetch your breakfast up now, for we don’t want to run any risks, and it might occasion remark if you was to be seen downstairs before Mr Clent has given your hair a different cut. One comfort is that we shan’t have to get his lordship’s coats altered to fit you, which would have presented us with a difficulty, being so pressed for time as we are.”

“Well, that would no doubt be a comfort to my brother,” retorted Kit, “but it’s none at all to me!”