Faro’s Daughter

Chapter 16

Ravenscar strode home in a mood of some uneasiness. Lord Ormskirk’s story had alarmed him quite a much as it had angered him, and although he did indeed believe Mablethorpe to be incapable of so far forgetting what was due to his name as to elope with Miss Grantham to the Border he could not but recall his own faint surprise at hearing, that morning, that his cousin had suddenly taken it into his head to retire into the country for a few days’ shooting. Mr Ravenscar was well aware that his youthful relative, far from showing any sign of recovery from his passion for Miss Grantham, had been haunting St James’s Square for the past week. He bore all the marks of a man deeply in love, and nothing, Ravenscar was persuaded, had been farther from his intentions, when he had last seen his cousin, than a removal from town. Miss Grantham’s decision to visit friends in the country might, of course, have altered his lordship’s plans; and it certainly would have been very like him to have escorted her to her destination before himself travelling into Berkshire. Mr Ravenscar did his best to satisfy his own unquiet mind with this explanation, but could not quite succeed. He could not leave out of his calculations the inconvenient circumstance of his having relinquished the one sure hold he had over Miss Grantham. He thought he had gauged Miss Grantham’s character correctly, but the unwelcome suspicion that he might after all have been wrong would not be banished entirely from his brain. This possibility was so exceedingly unpalatable that it set him striding on at a greater rate than ever, his hand rather tightly clenched on his walking-cane, and his face set in more than ordinarily grim lines. At no time did Mr Ravenscar care to find himself mistaken; in this instance he had his own reasons for being doubly anxious that his judgement should not be found to have been at fault.

He reached his house soon after one in the morning, and was surprised, and not best pleased, to be met by his stepmother, swathed in a wrapper, and evidently labouring under a considerable degree of agitation. Long experience had made it unnecessary for him to inquire the cause of her being out of bed at such an hour, and he said, before she could speak: “Well, what has she been doing this time?”

“Oh my dear Max!” said Mrs Ravenscar, in a weak voice. “I ought to have suspected when she said she had the headache that she was planning some mischief!”

“Of course you ought!” replied Ravenscar. “Out, is she?”

“Her bed has not been slept in!” announced Mrs Ravenscar dramatically. “I went in, just to see how she did, a couple of hours ago, for you must know that I myself am quite unable to sleep in all the racket of town—not that I mean to complain, I am sure, but so it is! And she was not in her room, and not a word can I get out of that wicked maid of hers, who, I am positive, is in the plot! She will do nothing but cry, and say that she knows nothing!”

“You had better get rid of the girl,” said Ravenscar unemotionally.

“It is all very well for you to dismiss the matter so lightly, Max, but if you knew the number of abigails I have engaged to wait on Arabella, and each one of them less fit to be trusted than the last! Besides, how will that help us in our present predicament?”

“It won’t,” he replied. “Nor will anything help us in any future predicaments of the same nature except your forgetting all these megrims of yours, Olivia, and taking Belle to the balls and masquerades her heart craves for. Where has she gone tonight?”

“How should I know? I do not know how you can stand there, speaking to me in that brutal fashion, when you know how the least thing oversets my poor nerves! It is unfeeling of you, and I did not look for such usage at your hands, though to be sure I might well, for your father was just such another! I will tell you what it is, Max: if you had the smallest consideration for me, or for your poor sister—who is your ward, let me remind you!—you would have married years ago, and provided the child with a chaperon who might have escorted her to parties without being prostrated by exhaustion for days after!”

“Of all the reasons I ever heard for embarking on the married state, that one appeals the least to me!” said Ravenscar roundly. “You had better go up to bed, ma’am: I have little doubt that already your nerves will suffer from the effects of this night.”

“I have had the most dreadful palpitations this past hour and more. But where can that dreadful child be?”

“I have no idea, and nothing is farther from my intention than to scour London in search of her. She will return presently.”

“If anyone were to hear of these pranks of hers, it would ruin all her chances of making a good match!” mourned Mrs Ravenscar, drifting towards the stairs.

“Nonsense!” said Ravenscar. “Nothing can ruin the chances of an heiress of making a good match!”

Mrs Ravenscar said that she hoped he would be found to know what he was talking about, but that for her part she wished the child were safely married, so that she herself might retire to the peace of Bath. She then went upstairs, leaning heavily on the banister-rail, and, after swallowing some laudanum-drops, and soaking her handkerchief in lavender water, very soon fell asleep.

Miss Ravenscar, knocking softly on the door an hour later, was disconcerted at being admitted, not by her faithful abigail, as had been arranged, but by an exasperated half-brother. “Oh!” she exclaimed, letting fall her reticule. “W-what a start you gave me, Max, to be sure!”

“Who,” demanded Ravenscar, “is your cavalier?”

“He has gone,” said Arabella hastily, seeing that he was about to step out into the porch.

“Just as well for him!” said Ravenscar. “You are a cursed nuisance, Arabella! Where have you been?”

“Only to the masquerade at Ranelagh,” replied Arabella, in cajoling accents. “I did want so much to go, and Mama would not take me, and you said it was not good ton, so what was I to do?”

“Stay at home,” said Ravenscar uncompromisingly. “If you don’t take care, Belle, I’ll send you down to Chamfreys with a devilish strict governess to watch over you!”

“I’d run away,” responded Arabella, unperturbed by this threat, and slipping a small, coaxing hand in his arm. “Don’t be cross with me, dearest Max! It was such an adventure! And I did not once take off my mask, so no one will ever know.”

“Who took you there?”

“Well, I think I won’t tell you that, because ten to one you do not know him, and if you do you would say something disagreeable to him,” said Arabella. “But I will tell you one thing, Max!”

“I suppose I should be grateful! What is it?”

“Why, only that I remembered what you said to me today and you were quite right! At least, I am very nearly sure that you are, but I shall know more certainly in a day or two, I dare say.”

He looked down at her with misgiving. “What mischief are you brewing? Come, out with it, Belle!”

Her eyes danced. “No, I shan’t tell you! You would spoil it all. I think someone is trying to impose upon me, though I am not quite sure yet. It is the most enchanting sport!”

“Oh, my God!” said Ravenscar.

She pinched his arm. “Now don’t, I implore you, Max, put on that fusty face! I promise you I shall not do anything you would not like. And if you are sensible, and don’t let Mama plague me, I shall very likely tell you all about it presently.”

“I suppose you imagine that I like your running off to public masquerade with an adventurer?” said her brother caustically.

“Well, you should have taken me to it yourself, so it is qui your own fault,” said Arabella, dismissing the matter.

“Go up to bed, you baggage,” commanded Ravenscar, never proof against his half-sister’s wiles. “I wish to God I had never been saddled with the care of you! Let me tell you that when you do get married your husband will very likely beat you!”

Miss Ravenscar paused on the staircase, and looked bad the picture of mischief. “Oh, if that were to happen, I should fly back to my dear, kind, fusty, respectable brother!” she promised, and fled.

She bore her mother’s gentle complaints, when she met her later in the morning, with docility but not much sign of penitence. Except for warning her that if she again played truant, unseasonable hours he should send her into the country, her brother paid no further attention to her escapade. She was relieved, for she had quite expected him to probe a good deal deeper into the matter, and felt some surprise at his forebearance. She thought, peeping at him over the coffee-pot at the breakfast-table, that he looked preoccupied, but she would have been more than surprised had she known the cause of the faint frown between his brows.

Mr Ravenscar, if the truth were told, was toying with the idea of driving down to Berkshire, to pay a flying visit to his friend Waring. Twice he was on the point of ordering his curricle to be brought round to the door, and twice he refrained. “Damn it all!” he told the bell-pull, “I’m not going to spy on the boy!”

He compromised by calling in St James’s Square that evening. The rooms were rather thin of company, and the want of Miss Grantham’s presence was generally felt. Several dowagers were there, looking remarkably like birds of prey; and Lady Bellingham, who had started the evening by routing Sir James Filey, seemed to be in a belligerent mood. Sir James had go nothing out of her but a selection of home-truths which had made him fling out of the house in a rage; and, emboldened by this victory, she was able to face Mr Ravenscar with scarcely a tremor. He arrived only a few minutes before supper, and begged the honour of taking her down to it. This made her ladyship look a little wary, but she accepted his proffered arm, and descended the broad staircase with him in tolerable composure. He found a seat for her in the supper-room, supplied her with some lobster patties, and a glass of iced champagne-punch, and sat down opposite to her.

Lady Bellingham summoned up her courage, and said: “I am glad to have the opportunity of speaking to you, Mr Ravenscar. I do not know what my niece may have written to you on the subject of those horrid bills, but for my part I am very grateful to you for restoring them to me.”

“Pray do not give the matter a thought, ma’am! How long does Miss Grantham expect to be out of town?”

“As to that, I do not precisely know,” replied her ladyship vaguely. “She has gone to stay with friends, and there is no knowing how long they may persuade her to remain with them.”

“In what part of the country is she staying, I wonder?”

“Oh, I don’t—that is to say, not very far away! I don’t suppose you would know the place,” said her ladyship firmly. “It is in the north somewhere.”

“Indeed? You must miss her, I feel sure.”

“Yes, certainly I do! No one ever had a better niece. Of course, you must not think that I approved of her putting you in the cellar, and I do hope she begged your pardon for it! But in the main she is a very good girl, I assure you!”

“I fear that the fault was mine. I had grievously offended Miss Grantham.”

Lady Bellingham regarded him with increasing favour. “I declare it is very handsome of you to say so, sir! To be sure, she was excessively put out by your wanting to give her twenty thousand pounds, not that I shall ever understand—however, that is neither here nor there!”

“I imagine,” he said, looking rather amused, “that the expenses of keeping up an establishment of this style must be heavy?”

“Crushing!” said her ladyship, not mincing matters. “You would find it hard to believe the shocking sum I spend on candles alone.”

“Is it worth it?” he asked curiously.

“That is just the tiresome part of it,” confided her ladyship. “I quite thought it would be when I moved from Green Street, but nothing has gone right with us since we came to this house.”

“Do you like the life?”

“Not at all. I am getting a deal too old for it, I daresay, but what is one to do? One must hope for a run of luck to set all to rights.” An idea occurred to her. She laid down her fork, and looked speculatively at the dark countenance opposite to her. “Of course, I know that Deb would not accept any money from you. You must know that I am far from considering her an ineligible wife for your cousin.”

“On that subject, then, we are unlikely to agree, ma’am.”

“Yes, but I assure you I am very broadminded,” said Lady Bellingham. “You will never make the least impression on Deb, you know. I dare say she will marry Mablethorpe just to spite you.” She paused to observe the effect of these words, but Mr Ravenscar’s face betrayed nothing but polite interest. “You must not think I do not appreciate your feelings in the matter,” she continued. “I am sure there is much to be said for your not wishing the marriage to take place. I might help you. There is not the least reason why Deb should ever know anything about it.”

He raised his brows. “Are you suggesting that I should bribe you to use your influence with Miss Grantham?” he inquired, “I should not think of insulting you so, ma’am!”

“When there is no turning round for the bills which clutter the whole house, I do not feel that it is the time to be talking of insults,” said her ladyship. “If you liked to hand me the twenty thousand pounds you were so obliging as to offer to Deb, I will engage for it that she shall not marry Mablethorpe, if I can prevent her!”

He laughed, and got up. “No, I think not, ma’am. After all, you might not be able to prevent her, you know; in which event I should have wasted my money.”

Lady Bellingham sighed. “It would not be wasted,” she said sadly. “However, I did not suppose that you would consent to do it.”

“Don’t despair, ma’am! I may yet lose a fortune at your faro-bank.”

“I wish you may, but I dare say you will break the bank instead,” said her ladyship pessimistically.

Mr Ravenscar did not go to these lengths, but his luck was decidedly in that evening, and Lady Bellingham could only feel glad when he finally rose from the table, and went away.

He was somewhat reassured by what she had said to him, for he could not suppose that she would have offered to prevent her niece’s marrying Mablethorpe if Miss Grantham had been even then on her way to Gretna Green. He tried to put the affair out of mind, and if he did not entirely succeed, at least he was not conscious of feeling much anxiety on his cousin’s behalf. He was merely conscious of a strong desire to see Miss Grantham again.

He had some days to wait before this wish could be gratified. Though a great many letters and invitation-cards were delivered at his house, none of them bore Miss Grantham’s handwriting on them. Mr Ravenscar developed a habit of tossing over his correspondence with an impatient hand, and his servants noticed that whenever they brought him a note on a tray he would pick it up with much more eagerness than he was in the habit of betraying, and then look out of reason cross. They drew their own conclusions, and shook their heads over it.

It was a week before Mr Ravenscar received any tidings of Miss Grantham’s whereabouts. He was driving himself home from the village of Kensington one afternoon when he came slap upon Lord Mablethorpe, riding along Piccadilly towards him. His lordship bore signs of travel upon his slim person, his topboots being generously splashed with mud, and his horse’s legs mired to the knees. He saw his cousin’s curricle approaching him, and waved.

The street was rather crowded, but Mr Ravenscar pulled up his greys, and waited for Mablethorpe to come up to the curricle. It struck him that his lordship was looking radiantly happy, and it was in rather a sharp tone that he said: “So you are back at last!”

“Yes, this instant!” Adrian said, curbing his horse’s wish to shy at a top-heavy wagon which was coming down the street. “I have just set Deb down in St James’s Square, and am on my way to Brook Street. I must not stay: I must see my mother immediately! Oh, Max, I am the happiest man alive! I have so much to tell you! You will never guess where I have been!”

“I was informed,” said Ravenscar, his brow as black as thunder, “that you had gone to stay with Tom Waring!”

Adrian laughed, and brought his sidling horse round again. “I know, but it was not so! Max, I am married!”

“Married!”

Mr Ravenscar must have jobbed at the greys’ sensitive mouths, for they began to plunge, and his lordship was obliged to rein back out of the way.

“I knew I should surprise you!” he called. “I will come round to tell you about it later! It is too long a story, and there is no telling it here! Besides, I must see my mother first. Goodbye! I will see you presently!”

He waved his whip, and rode on; Mr Ravenscar, very white about the mouth, drove straight to St James’s Square. Arriving at Lady Bellingham’s house, he thrust the reins into his groom’s hands, said curtly: “Keep them moving!” jumped down from the box, and strode up the steps to Lady Bellingham’s door.

It was opened to him by Silas Wantage, who grinned, and said: “It’s wonderful, so it is, the way you do keep coming to the house, sir, as though there hadn’t never been what you might call unpleasantness!”

“Desire Miss—” Ravenscar stopped. His grim mouth hardened. “Desire Miss Grantham to accord me the favour of a few words with her—alone!” he said.

Mr Wantage eyed him shrewdly, and stroked his chin. “Ay, but I’m not sure as Miss Deb is receiving visitors today,” he said.

“Take my message to her!” Ravenscar said fiercely.

Mr Wantage opened his eyes very wide at this, but apparently decided to obey. He showed Mr Ravenscar into the small parlour at the back of the hall, and left him there while he went to deliver his message to Miss Grantham.

Deborah was in her bedchamber, having just taken off her hat and her travelling-cloak. She was giving her aunt a lively description of her journey when Silas scratched on the door, but when she heard who was below, she hesitated, blushed, and said. “Very well, I will come down.”

“If you were to ask me, Miss Deb, I should have to tell you that if ever I saw a cove in the devil’s own temper I’ve seen it just now, when I opened the door to Mr Ravenscar,” Silas warned her.

“Oh, dear! He must have heard the news!” said Miss Grantham ruefully. “I did hope he would not mind so very much!”

“Maybe I’d better come with you,” suggested Wantage, who had not yet given up hope of enjoying a bout of fisticuffs with Mr Ravenscar.

“Certainly not! He cannot eat me, after all!”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” said Mr Wantage darkly.

But Miss Grantham only laughed, and dismissed him, turning to arrange her hair in the mirror, and to straighten the fall of lace over her bosom. She then told her aunt she expected to be back directly, and went downstairs to the back-parlour.

Mr Ravenscar, who was standing staring out of the window, jerking his driving-gloves between his hands, swung round at her entrance, and looked across at her with wrath and the most bitter contempt in his face. “So!” he said bitingly. “Stand there, ma’am! Let me take a good look at you! You have tricked me finely, have you not?”

“Well, yes, I suppose I did trick you a little,” confessed Miss Grantham. “But it is not so very bad, after all!”

“I thought I had been mistaken in you! By God, the only mistake I made was in giving you credit for a little common honesty!” he flung at her. “You are a cheating baggage, ma’am!”

Do not put on that air of outraged innocence, I beg of you! A drab from the stews would have scorned to behave as you have! I came to take a look at you, knowing you for the jade you are! You have a beautiful face, I will grant, and you are false to the bottom of your heart—if heart you possess!”

Miss Grantham blinked and gasped under this hail of words, and could only stammer: “Are you m-mad? If I deceived you, at least I have done nothing to provoke you to such anger as this! It may not be a brilliant match for Adrian, and I own he is a trifle young to be setting up his establishment, but you will see how well it will answer!”

“No, that I shall not!” he retorted. “Mine is one foot that will not cross the threshold, be sure!”

“Oh, this is nothing but the stupidest prejudice!” she exclaimed. “I warn you, you had better not talk to Adrian in this vein, if you value his regard for you, for he is as deep in love as can be, and will very likely call you out for saying such things of his wife!”

“His wife!” he ejaculated bitterly. “My God, his wife!”

Miss Grantham came forward into the middle of the room. “I see no reason for all this scorn,” she said. “You are angry because you were hoodwinked, but that was as much Adrian’s doing as mine. Do not think to come browbeating me, Mr Ravenscar! I will not bear such treatment! And if you dare to call me by one more vile name I will hit you! As for the bills, and the mortgage which you were so obliging as to send me, you shall have them back, and you shall be paid every penny!”

“Yes! By Mablethorpe!” he said, with a short laugh. “I thank you, ma’am, I want none of them back! But if Mablethorpe had known the full story, do you think that he would have married you? Do you?”

Miss Grantham stood as though turned to stone, colour flooding her cheeks as the sense of his words dawned upon her.

He did not fail to mark this flush, and said: “I am happy to see that you can blush, ma’am! I had not thought it possible!”

A pulse throbbed in Miss Grantham’s throat; her eyes narrowed to slits of light; she made a strong effort to control her voice, and managed to say: “And how, may I ask, did you know that I had married Mablethorpe?”

“I have this instant met him. He told me himself. It may interest you to know, ma’am, that a week ago I was told that you had been seen traveling northward with your maid beside you in the chaise, and my cousin riding as escort. The fool that I was I would not believe that you could have been base enough to persuade that boy into eloping with you! I assumed him to be accompanying you merely to your destination, to protect you upon the journey! But today I learned the truth. I should have known better than to expect honest dealing from a wench out of a gaming-house!”

If Miss Grantham had been red before, she was now as white as her lace. “You should be grateful to me for having enlarged your experience! But I would remind you, Mr Ravenscar, that I told you when I had you in my power that I should marry your cousin when I chose!”

“I have not forgotten! I remember something else which you said upon that occasion, and which will prove as true a prophecy! You promised to ruin him! You did so when you let him put his ring upon your finger!”

Miss Grantham thrust her left hand into the folds of her skirt. “You will be sorry that you ever dared to speak to me in these terms!” she said through her teeth. “There is nothing I will not do to punish you! I have never been so sorry that I was not born a man! I would kill you if I could! I disliked you at first setting eyes on you: I have learned to detest you!”

“And I thought I had learned to love you, ma’am!” he said. “You do not understand the meaning of that word, but when you have squandered Adrian’s fortune, as I make no doubt you will do soon enough, you may reflect that had you played your cards more cleverly you might have had my wealth to spend, and my name to call your own! You stare! Is it possible that you did not guess it, ma’am? So clever as you are you yet failed to snare a richer prize than Adrian! A much richer prize, Miss Grantham! Take that thought to bed with you, and may you dream of it often! For myself, I count myself fortunate to have escaped so narrowly from the toils of a harpy!”

Miss Grantham’s voice shook uncontrollably, and she was forced to grasp a chairback to steady herself. “Go!” she gasped. “Marry you? I would rather die in the worst agony you can conceive! Don’t dare—don’t dare to enter this house again! I wish I may never see you again as long as I live!”

“You cannot wish that more heartily than I do!” he retorted, and strode from the room.

Miss Grantham stayed where she was for a full minute, her breast heaving, and angry tears starting in her eyes. The-slam of the front-door recalled her to herself. She dashed a hand across her eyes, and rushed out of the room, straight upstairs to her bedchamber. Lady Bellingham was still seated there, but at sight of her niece’s ravaged countenance she almost jumped out of her chair, exclaiming: “Good God, my love, what is amiss?”

“That man!” choked Miss Grantham. “That devil!”

“Oh, heavens, you have quarrelled with Ravenscar again!” cried her ladyship. “Don’t tell me you have had him put in the cellar. I can’t bear it!”

“He shall never enter this house again!” stormed Miss Grantham. “He dared to think—he dared to think—Oh, I shall go mad!”

“I know you will, and it has been troubling me very much,” said her aunt. “I never knew you to behave so in all your life! What did he think?”

“He thought—oh, I cannot bring myself to speak of it! That is what he thinks me! I have never been so insulted! I wish I had called to Silas to fling him out of the house! If ever he dares to show his face here again that is what I shall do. I would like to boil him in oil! Nothing could be too bad for him, and if I could see my way to ruining him I would do it, and dance for joy!”

“But, Deb, what has he done?” wailed her aunt.

“He believes me to be the lowest kind of creature on this earth! He has insulted me in the worst way any—oh, go away, Aunt Lizzie, go away! And don’t let anyone come up to me, for I won’t see a soul!”

She looked so fierce that Lady Bellingham did not attempt to remonstrate with her, but tottered from the room, feeling: that her days were numbered. She heard the key turn in the lock behind her, and went downstairs to her boudoir, intending to recuperate her own strength by sipping hartshorn-and water, and lying down on the sofa, with her smelling-salts to hand.

She had barely settled herself comfortably, however, when Lucius Kennet walked into the room, saying cheerfully, “I hear that Deb has come home. Where is the darlin’?”

“Shut up in her room, and stark mad!” moaned Lady Bellingham.

. He stared. “The devil she is! Now, what ails her?”

“I don’t know. Ravenscar has been here, and she says she has never been so insulted in her life! I have never known her to be so angry! She could barely speak!”

“But what has the miserable spleen been saying to her at all?”

“It is no use asking me, for I don’t know, but I fear he must have made her an improper proposal. She says she would like to boil him in oil. But understand me, Lucius, if you help her to do any such thing you do not enter this house again!”

“Faith, I have a better way of punishing Mr Ravenscar than that! I wish you will inform Deb I am here, ma’am: I’ll tell her what will gladden her heart!”

“She said she would not see a soul, and you know what she is! Besides, she has locked the door. Do, I implore you, go away and leave me in peace! I am sure my head is like to split!”

“Ah, now, be easy, ma’am!” he said. “I’ll go, and maybe you’ll not be seeing me for a while, but I give you my word I have as pretty a revenge brewing for Ravenscar as even Deb could wish for! You may tell her so with my love—or maybe I’ll be writing her a note to raise her spirits.”

“Do anything you please, only go away!” begged her ladyship, closing her eyes, and making a feeble gesture towards the door.