Faro’s Daughter

Chapter 15

Lady Bellingham was not called upon to sustain a visit from Lady Laxton, but not long after the chaise had drive away from St James’s Square, Lord Laxton arrived at the house, and sent in his card.

Lady Bellingham received him in the Yellow Saloon, and was shrewd enough to perceive at the first glance that he was extremely ill-at-ease. The truth was that his lordship believed Sir James Filey to have been mistaken in thinking he had seen Phoebe at one of the windows in Lady Bellingham’s house and much resented having been sent to inquire into the matter. He was positive that his daughter was quite unacquainted with her ladyship, so that when Lady Bellingham received tentative questions with a look of the blankest bewilderment he was not at all surprised, but reflected that it was just Augusta to have driven him out on a fool’s errand. Lady Bellingham said that she had thought for some time that James was drinking too heavily. She supposed that he might have caught sight of her niece’s school-friend, Miss Smith, who had certainly been staying in the house, as his lordship might verify for himself, if he cared to question the servants. This was said with a sarcastic inflexion which embarrassed his lordship. He said that he had no wish to question the servants and was sure that a mistake had been made. Lady Bellingham then enjoyed herself very much by asking him a great many awkward questions about his daughter’s disappearance, so that he was glad to make his escape as soon as he could. He was not allowed to depart, however, without being asked how his wife did, and whether her luck at cards continued to hold good; and as he was well aware of the circumstances which had led up to Lady Laxton’s ceasing to receive cards of invitation to Lady Bellingham’s card-parties, he finally left the house in considerable disorder. Augusta, he decided, might do what she pleased, but for his part he was not going to be sent on any more such errands. His own belief was that his daughter had fled to her aunt in Wales, which was an exceedingly awkward business, since he supposed he would be obliged to go there to fetch the girl away. As this would entail meeting his redoubtable sister, and enduring the lightning of her extremely forked tongue, it was not a prospect to which he looked forward with any pleasure.

Lady Bellingham’s next visitor was Lucius Kennet, who strolled in to see her at about noon. He had come to tell her that he had an engagement that evening, and so would not be able to deal for her at the faro-table, as he usually did. When he heard of Deborah’s departure into Wales with Phoebe and Lord Mablethorpe, he was at first amused, and then as exasperated as a man of his easy-going temperament could be.

“So she’s going to marry the young sprig to the Laxton chit, is she?” he said. “I’m thinking that when Ravenscar gets to hear of this the game will be up, ma’am.”

“Oh, if I had not forgot to tell you!” exclaimed her ladyship. “Ravenscar has given the mortgage and the bills to her! I had not thought to find him so complaisant!”

He pursed up his lips. “That’s the way it is, is it? I’d a strong notion our friend was a deal more taken up with Deb’s charms than she guessed.”

Lady Bellingham sighed. “I own, I thought the same, and I daresay it is quite true. But it is useless to talk to Deb, Lucius! She has taken such a dislike to the man that nothing will overcome it!”

“It was in me mind, ma’am, that she was more than half in love with the fellow.”

“Oh no, nothing of the kind!” said her ladyship. “She can’t abide him. I can vouch for that! And if you are thinking that he might offer for her, I believe he is too proud. If anything of that nature has entered his head, you may depend upon it, it is not marriage he means!”

He agreed with this, and sat for a few moments, idly casting his dice on to the table at his elbow. After a frowning pause, he raised his eyes to her ladyship’s face, and said bluntly: “How do your accounts stand, ma’am?”

She shuddered. “Don’t ask me that! Of course, it is a relief to get that mortgage into my hands, but when I think of the twenty thousand pounds he offered to give Deb, I declare I could weep!”

“I was thinking much the same meself,” he said. “This is a bird that lays golden eggs, ma’am, and it would be a pity, so it would, to let it slip through our fingers before we have one of those same eggs.,

“I see no need for you to talk in that vulgar way, Lucius,” said her ladyship, with dignity. “But in the main I agree with what you say. Only Deb is so proud she will not take a penny from anyone, so you may as well stop thinking of that twenty thousand.”

He grinned. “And has your ladyship stopped thinking of it?” he inquired.

“No one,” said her ladyship severely, “can stop thinking of such a sum all in a trice, but I assure you it does not creep into my mind now above once or twice in a day.”

“If I could lay my hands on it, it’s not meself that would be forgetting an old friend,” he observed, watching the fall of his dice.

“I am sure you would not,” replied her ladyship, gratified by this kind thought, “and if I had such a sum I would not forget you. But Deb is determined not to touch a penny of Ravenscar’s money, so there is nothing for us to do but to put it out of our minds.”

“Faith, I’m disappointed in the darlin’!” said Mr Kennet. “I’m thinking I’ll be taking a hand in the game meself.”

“I do not see what you can do,” objected Lady Bellingham. “As soon as he knows that Mablethorpe is safely tied to Phoebe Laxton, there will no longer be the least reason why he should give us any money at all.”

“Well,” drawled Kennet, rising to his feet, and pocketing his dice, “Mablethorpe is not the only weapon to our hands, after all. I’ll be bidding you a very good day, ma’am.”

He went off, leaving her ladyship rather bewildered, but, on the whole, unimpressed.

Mr Ravenscar, in the meantime, had received Miss Grantham’s hurried note, and had read it with some amusement. It was plain that he had taken her by surprise, which was what he had meant to do; and equally plain that she had been thrown into a considerable degree of embarrassment. He more than half suspected her of having told—him that she was going into the country merely to gain time to decide on her next course of action. He wondered what this would be, and, having by this time formed a fairly accurate estimate of the lady’s character, would not have been surprised to have had the bills flung back at him without an instant’s delay on her part.

He folded her letter, and put it away. The various exigencies of the past week had precluded his paying very much attention to his half-sister, but he had noticed a certain saintliness of demeanour about that young lady which he had learnt from experience to mistrust, and thought that it might be as well to devote a little of his time to her. With this end in view, he sent up a message to her, asking whether she cared to drive out with him in the Park.

Upon receiving this message, Miss Ravenscar came down to the library, dressed for walking, and eyed him rather doubtfully. “Why do you want to take me out driving?” she asked.

“Why shouldn’t I want to?” he replied, looking up from the letter he was reading.

“Well, I don’t know,” said Arabella cautiously. “Whenever Aunt Selina invites me to drive out with her, in that stuffy barouche, it is always because she wants to read me a lecture.”

He laughed. “Belle, when have I ever done such a thing?”

“There is no saying when you might take it into your head to do so,” she answered, dimpling.

“It won’t be today. Do you mean to come with me, or not?”

“Well, I had meant to walk in the Park, with my maid, but if you would like me to come with you I will do so,” said Miss Ravenscar handsomely.

He looked at her with a sardonic gleam of comprehension in his eye. “An assignation, Belle?”

Miss Ravenscar said airily: “Oh dear me, no!”

“Little liar,” said Ravenscar, without heat.

She seemed flattered by this, and gave a gurgle.

Ravenscar had had his perch-phaeton brought round to the door, with a showy pair of chestnuts harnessed to it. His sister was delighted to find that she was to drive out in this sporting vehicle and skipped up into it, begging Ravenscar to waste no time in starting, since if her Mama were to look out of the window she would be bound to say that it was too dangerous, and forbid her to go, for fear she might be overturned. Ravenscar took this aspersion on his driving with equanimity, and they drove off in the direction of the Park. As soon as they were within the gates, Miss Ravenscar demanded to be allowed to take the ribbons. Since he had taught her to drive himself; her brother raised no objection to this, and handed them over. Perfect harmony being thus established between them, he felt it safe to ask her whether her affections were irrevocably set on Mr Grantham, of the 14th Foot. Arabella said, in accents of considerable surprise: “Kit Grantham? Good gracious, Max, no! That was a long time ago!”

“So it was,” he agreed. “At least ten days. I met the young gentleman the other night. I am glad you don’t mean to marry him. He would not do for you at all.”

“No, he is far too young,” said Arabella. “I do not think I like very young men nearly as much as older ones. Not too old, of course.”

Mr Ravenscar cast rapidly round in his mind, but was unable to think of any male between the ages of thirty and forty with whom Arabella might have come into contact. He waited hoping for a further clue.

“I like men who have been about the world a little,” said Arabella reflectively. “They are more exciting, if you know what I mean, Max.”

Mr Ravenscar thought gloomily that he knew very well what she meant. “True, but such men do not make good husbands for very young women,” he said.

Arabella turned her innocent eyes upon him. “Why don’t they, Max?”

“Well, they grow old too fast,” he explained. “Think! Before you well knew where you were you would find your husband a martyr to gout, no longer ready to go out to parties, but wanting always to sit at home over the fire.”

Miss Ravenscar looked much struck by this view of the matter. “All of them?” she asked anxiously.

“All of them,” said her brother, with great firmness.

“Oh!” Miss Ravenscar drove on in silence, evidently digesting this dictum. A barouche ahead of her, drawn by two sluggish brown horses, attracted her attention. She said, pouting a little: “Aunt Selina! Shall I go past, and pretend we did not see her?”

“Better not,” he said. “Go past, and draw up by the trees.”

She looped a rein, as he had taught her, and shot past the barouche in a very dashing style, to the evident admiration of a gentleman driving a phaeton towards them.

“I did that well, did I not?” she asked, with naive pleasure in her own skill.

“Very well.”

She drew up by a clump of trees, and waited for the barouche to come alongside. Lady Mablethorpe, impressive in a lavender bonnet, with upstanding plumes, leaned forward to exclaim: “My dear, surely that is a very dangerous carriage for you to be driving! I wonder you will let her, Max!”

“She will come to no harm,” he replied carelessly.

“I suppose you thought the same about Adrian, when you took him racing with you yesterday!” said her ladyship tartly.

His rare smile lighted his eyes suddenly. “Why, yes, ma’am, I did!”

“I think it was abominable of you! He might have been killed! I know what these curricle-races are! Next we shall have him wanting to drive in one himself!”

“I should not be at all surprised. You cannot keep him on leading-strings all his life, you know.”

She sighed. “No, but—Well, it does not signify! I must tell you, Max, that I am in hopes that a certain affair is waning.”

“Indeed! I am very glad to hear it, but what leads you to think so?”

“He has gone off to Tom Waring’s place in Berkshire for some shooting. He was in spirits too; I could see he was glad to be going. You may guess how thankful I feel!”

“He said nothing to me about this when he was with me yesterday,” remarked Ravenscar, looking rather surprised.

“It was settled only this morning. I collect that he met Tom at White’s, or some such place, and Tom asked him then.”

“I had no idea Waring was in town. In fact, I thought he was fixed in Berkshire until next month.”

“I dare say he was obliged to come up to attend to some business. I do not see what concern it is of ours. The main thing is that Adrian has been persuaded-to go out of town for a few days. I regard it as a most encouraging sign!”

“I hope it may be found so,” Ravenscar said. “Arabella, we must not keep Aunt Selina!”

“No, indeed!” said Arabella promptly.

“You mean you do not wish to keep your horses standing,” said Lady Mablethorpe dryly. “Drive on, then, but pray take care of that child, Max!”

“As though I had never handled the ribbons before!” said Arabella, as they moved forward. “Max, was she talking about Adrian’s engagement to Miss Grantham?”

“I am not aware of any engagement.”

“Oh, don’t be stuffy, Max! Adrian told me of it himself! Is my aunt still set against it?”

“Certainly she is.”

“Because she behaved so oddly at Vauxhall?”

“That, and other reasons.”

“Well, I will tell you something,” said Arabella resolutely.

“I like her.”

He turned his head to look at her. “Indeed! I should not have thought that you had had time to make up your mind in the short while you were in her company.”

“As a matter of fact,” confided Miss Ravenscar, “I met her on another occasion. Don’t be cross!”

“I am not cross. Where did you meet her?”

She cast him a look, half-mischievous, half-deprecating. “I wanted to see her for myself. So I went to visit her at her home.”

“The devil you did!” he said. “And you decided that you liked her?”

“Yes, for she was not in the least vulgar! And it is just as I told you at Vauxhall: she has the most laughing eyes!”

“They do laugh sometimes,” admitted Mr Ravenscar. “May I ask if you are in the habit of visiting her?”

“No, because she said I must not while you and my aunt disliked her so amazingly.”

“Oh, she said that, did she?”

“Yes, but I told her I should come often to see her when she was married to Adrian, and she said I might.”

“She is not going to marry Adrian.”

“I do not see why she should not. I think you are silly, and fusty, and full of prejudice!”

“I dare say you do.”

“And I may as well tell you at once, Max, that nothing would induce me to marry Adrian!”

“I never supposed that you would marry him.”

“You did not?” she exclaimed. “I quite thought that you expected it! Mama and Aunt Selina do.”

“Very likely. If you take my advice, you will not marry anyone for a year or two yet.”

She wrinkled her brow. “But I shall be almost on the shelf! Besides, I think I should like to be married.”

“When you think that you would like to be married to the same man for more than a month, Belle, tell me!” he said, smiling.

She shook her head. “It is a very awkward circumstance, my falling in love so often, Max. However, I am much wiser now than I used to be, and I dare say I shall very soon settle down.”

He said nothing for several minutes, but when they reached the gates of the Park again, he took the reins from her. “You know, Belle,” he said, “you will have a considerable fortune when you come of age.”

“I know I shall. I shall enjoy that,” replied Miss Ravenscar. “Certainly. But take care you do not marry a man who wants to enjoy it too.”

Miss Ravenscar thought this over. “That’s horrid, Max.”

“It is unfortunately the way of a great part of the world.”

“Do you mean—do you mean that all the men who have wanted me to marry them only wanted my fortune?”

“I am afraid I do, Belle.”

Miss Ravenscar swallowed. “It is a very lowering thought,” she said, in a small voice.

“It would be if there were not plenty of men to whom your fortune will not matter a jot.”

“Rich men?”

“Not necessarily.”

“Oh!” Miss Ravenscar sounded more hopeful. “But how shall I know, Max?”

“Well, there might be several ways of knowing, but I can give you one certain way. If you should meet any man who would like to persuade you to elope with him, you may depend upon it that he is after your money, and nothing else. An honest man will rather ask permission to call in Grosvenor Square.”

“But, Max, they are all afraid of you!” objected Arabella.

“Depend upon it, you will one day meet a man who is not in the least afraid of me.”

“Yes, but—it is all so respectable, Max, and not exciting, or romantic! Besides, they have not all wanted to elope with me!”

“I should hope not indeed! Listen, Belle! I am asking no questions, and I don’t mean to spy on you, but I fancy you meet more men than your Mama or I know of. Before you decide to lose your absurd heart to one of them, consider whether you would care to present him to me, or to Adrian.”

“And if I would not, will he be the wrong sort of man?”

“Well, I’ll do that,” promised Miss Ravenscar, brightening. “It will be a very good kind of a game!”

Her brother drove her home, feeling that the morning had not been wasted.

He dined at Brooks’s that evening, and played faro afterwards, at the fifty-guinea table. When he rose from it, shortly after midnight, he saw that Ormskirk had walked into the cardroom, and was standing watching the fall of the dice at the hazard-table. Ormskirk looked up quickly as Ravenscar put back his chair, and moved across the room towards him.

“I thought you visited Brooks’s as seldom as I visit White’s,” remarked Ravenscar.

“Quite true,” Ormskirk drawled. “You, I fancy, came to White’s the other evening merely to find me.”

Ravenscar lifted an eyebrow.

“I,” said Ormskirk, flicking a speck of snuff from his sleeve, “came to Brooks’s in the hopes of finding you, my dear Ravenscar.”

“Ought I to be flattered?”

“Well, I must own that it is not my intention to flatter you,” replied his lordship, his thin lips curling into an unpleasant smile.

Ravenscar looked at him, slightly frowning. “How am I to take that, my lord?”

“I hope you may take it to heart. Let me tell you that I cannot congratulate you on the use you made of certain bills which I sold you. I must confess I am disappointed in you, my dear Ravenscar.”

“May I know how you are aware of what use I made of them?”

His lordship shrugged. “Inference, just inference!” he said sweetly.

“I suppose I must be extremely dull-witted, but I am still far from understanding what you mean. May I suggest that we step into the next room?”

“By all means,” bowed Ormskirk. “I can appreciate the delicacy of feeling which prompts you to shrink from discussing your cousin’s wife in such a public spot.”

Ravenscar strode over to the door that led into a small writing-room, and held it open. “I should certainly be loath to do so,” he replied. “My cousin, however, is not married nor is he likely to be.”

“You think not?” smiled Ormskirk.

Ravenscar shut the door. “I am quite sure of it.”

Ormskirk took out his snuff-box, and helped himself to a delicate pinch. “My dear Ravenscar, I am afraid you have been duped,” he said.

Ravenscar stood still by the door, stiffening a little. “In what way have I been duped?”

Ormskirk shut his snuff—box. “I must suppose that you have not encountered Stillingfleet, my dear sir.”

“I did not know that he was in town.”

“He arrived this morning. He has been staying at Hertford.”

“Well?”

“He drove to town by way of the Great North Road,” remarked Ormskirk pensively.

“So I should suppose. I do not yet perceive how his movements concern me.”

“But you will, my dear Ravenscar, you will! Stillingfleet, you must know, changed horses at the Green Man at Barnet. When he pulled out from the yard, he was in time to obtain art excellent view of a post-chaise-and-four, which was passing up the street at that moment. Ah, heading north, you understand!”

Mr Ravenscar was looking a little pale, and his mouth had hardened. “Go on!” he said harshly.

“He was much struck by the appearance of the lady in the chaise. He is not acquainted with Deb Grantham, but I could hardly mistake, from his admirable description of the lady’s charms! She had a young woman beside her—her maid, one supposes—and there was a quantity of baggage strapped on behind the chaise.”

Ravenscar smiled contemptuously. “Very possibly. Miss Grantham has gone into the country for a few days. I was aware that she had that intention.”

“And were you also aware that your cousin had the intention to accompany her?” inquired Ormskirk.

“I was not!”

“No, I thought not,” said Ormskirk gently.

“Are you serious?” Ravenscar demanded. “Do you tell me that Mablethorpe was with Miss Grantham?”

“That,” replied his lordship, “is what Stillingfleet told me. And he is, I fancy, fairly well acquainted with your cousin. He informed me that Mablethorpe was riding beside the chaise. Ah, I did mention that they were travelling in a northerly direction, did I not?”

“Oh, yes!” said Ravenscar. “You mentioned that at the outset, my lord. I may be dull-witted, but I collect that you wish me to infer that my cousin was eloping with Miss Grantham to Gretna Green.”

“It seems a fair inference,” murmured his lordship.

“It is a damned lie!” said Mr Ravenscar.

His lordship raised his brows in faint hauteur. “You should know better than I, my dear sir.”

“I think so indeed! I have known Mablethorpe since he was in short coats, and nothing would astonish me more than to learn that he had taken part in anything so vulgar as an elopement to Gretna. It is not in his character, my lord, believe me. Furthermore, I do not think that Miss Grantham has any more intention of marrying him than she has of becoming your mistress!”

“You would appear to be in the lady’s confidence,” said Ormskirk. “Or has she succeeded in deceiving you, I wonder?”

“She has certainly tried her best to do so, but I can assure you that she failed!” replied Ravenscar, with a short laugh. “I think I know Miss Grantham now, however mistaken I may have been in her at the outset! If Stillingfleet saw my cousin beside her chaise today, I imagine that he was escorting her to her friends in the country. That would certainly be in keeping with what I know of him.”

Lord Ormskirk made a graceful gesture of acceptance. “I that explanation satisfies you, my dear Ravenscar, who am I to cavil at it? I do hope that you will not suffer a rude awakening. You must not think that I do not find your faith in your cousin’s sense of propriety edifying: believe me, I do myself, I fear I am a cynic. No doubt we shall discover in time which of us was right.”