Regency Buck (Alastair-Audley Tetralogy 3)

Mr Brummell, encountered again at dinner, was unabashed. He had discovered a very excellent cheese in a farmhouse

he had not previously known to exist, had regaled himself on it, and having satisfied himself that no speck of mud sullied his snowy tops, had ridden gently back to Belvoir to discuss with his hostess a plan for landscape gardening which had occurred to him in the night watches.

Lord Worth did not join the whist-party after dinner, but repaired to the drawing-room with several others, and was at once claimed by Lady Jersey. A rubber of Casino was being played at one end of the room, but not very seriously, and the card-players, when asked, had not the least objection to a little music. The Duchess begged that Miss Crewe’s harp might be fetched, and Miss Crewe, after a proper display of bashfulness, and some prompting from her mama, consented. The Honourable Mrs Crewe, turbaned and majestic, bore down upon Lady Jersey, and informed her that she thought her ladyship would be pleased with Charlotte’s performance.

‘Your ladyship’s mama, dear Lady Westmorland, recom mended Charlotte’s present master to me,’ she announced. ‘The result, I venture to think, has been most happy. She has learned to apply, and has in general acquired a proficiency upon the instrument – but I shall await your judgment, and yours too, Lord Worth. Your taste may certainly be relied on.’

The Earl had risen at her approach. He bowed, and said in his most expressionless voice: ‘You flatter me, ma’am.’

‘Oh no, that I am sure I do not! Anything of that sort is repugnant to my nature; you will not find me administering to anyone’s vanity, I can tell you. I say exactly what I think. Charlotte is more conciliatory, I believe. I do not know where you may find a more good-natured, amiable girl: it is quite absurd!’ The Earl bowed again, but said nothing. Mrs Crewe tapped his sleeve with her fan. ‘You shall tell me what you think of her performance, but I do beg of you not to watch the child too closely, for I have had a great piece of work inducing her to play at all with you present. The nonsensical girl sets so much store by your opinion it is quite ridiculous! “Oh, Mama!” she said to me, as we came downstairs, “if there should be music, don’t, I beg of you, press me to play! I am sure I cannot with Lord Worth’s critical eyes upon me!”’

‘I will engage, ma’am, to turn my eyes elsewhere,’ replied the Earl.

‘Oh, nonsense, I have no notion of indulging girls in such folly,’ said Mrs Crewe. ‘“Depend upon it, my love,” I told her, “Lord Worth will be very well pleased with your performance.”’ The harp had been brought into the room by this time, and Mrs Crewe sailed back to fuss over her daughter, to direct Mr Pierrepoint to move a branch of candles nearer, and Lord Alvanley to bring up a more suitable chair.

Worth resumed his seat beside Lady Jersey, and gave her one expressive glance. Her eyes were dancing. ‘Oh, my dear Julian, do you see? You must sit and gaze at Charlotte throughout! Now, that isn’t ill-natured of me, is it? Such a detestable, matchmaking woman! I beg you won’t offer for Charlotte. I shall never ask you to Osterley again if you do, and you know that would be too bad when you are one of my oldest friends.’

‘I can safely promise you I won’t,’ replied the Earl.

His eyes had wandered by chance to where Miss Taverner was seated, at no great distance, and rested there for a moment. Miss Taverner was not looking at him; she was conversing in a quiet voice with a lively brunette.

Lady Jersey followed the direction of the Earl’s glance, and shot him one quick, shrewd look. ‘My dear Worth, I have always agreed with you,’ she said saucily. ‘She is lovely – quite beautiful!’

The Earl turned his eyes upon her. ‘Don’t talk, Sally: you interrupt Miss Crewe.’

And indeed by this time Miss Crewe had run one hand across the strings of the harp, and was about to begin.

Mrs Crewe, anxiously watching his lordship, had the doubtful felicity of seeing that he kept his word to her. Beyond bestowing one cursory glance upon the fair performer, he did not look at her again, but inspected instead his companion’s famous pink pearls. He did indeed join in the applause that greeted the song, but with all his habitual languor. Miss Crewe was begged to sing again, though not by him, and after a little show of reluctance, complied. My Lord Worth sank his chin in his cravat, and gazed abstractedly before him.

The second piece being at an end, and Miss Crewe properly complimented and thanked, Lady Jersey leaned forward impulsively and addressed Miss Taverner. ‘Miss Taverner, surely I am not mistaken in thinking that you play, and sing too?’

Judith looked up. ‘Very indifferently, ma’am. I have no skill on the harp.’

‘But the pianoforte! I am persuaded you could give us all great pleasure if you would!’

The Duchess at once added her entreaties to Lady Jersey’s, and Lord Alvanley, deserting Miss Crewe, went across to her, and said in his cheerful way: ‘Now, do pray sing for us, Miss Taverner! We can never be brought to believe that you don’t sing, you know! Do you not give us all the lead in everything?’

Judith coloured, and shook her head. ‘No, indeed; you put me quite out of countenance. My performance on the pianoforte is nothing at all out of the common, I assure you.’

The Duchess said kindly: ‘Do not be doing anything you would rather not, Miss Taverner, but I believe I can engage for it we shall all listen to you with considerable pleasure.’

‘Worth!’ said Alvanley. ‘Use your influence, my dear fellow! You can command where we may only supplicate!’

‘Well, here is a piece of work!’ exclaimed Mrs Crewe, by no means pleased at the turn events had taken. ‘It is an odd thing to hear you begging the indulgence of music, Lord Alvanley. I am sure you had rather be at the card-table.’

‘Oh, come, ma’am,’ said Alvanley easily, ‘you are giving me a sad character, you know.’

‘Well, I have never known you to stay away from the whist-table before,’ she persisted.

‘You will make me feel you are anxious to be rid of me,’ he said. ‘If you can tell me if there is any chance of the Ten Tribes of Israel being discovered, I promise you I will go and play whist when I have heard Miss Taverner sing.’

‘What in the world can you mean? You are the oddest creature, I protest!’

‘Why, ma’am, only that I have exhausted the other two tribes, and called out the conscription of next year. Worth! you say nothing! Compel Miss Taverner!’

Judith, who had recovered her countenance, got up. ‘Indeed, it is not necessary! You make me seem very ungracious, sir, and I am afraid you will be disappointed in my performance after Miss Crewe’s excellence.’

Lord Worth rose, and walking over to the pianoforte opened it for her. As Alvanley led her up to it, he said in a low voice: ‘Have you music? May I fetch it for you?’