Frederica

‘Or dangling after Charis?’

‘No, you are mistaken!’ she said quickly. ‘Mr Trevor doesn’t do so!’

‘I’m glad. She wouldn’t do for him at all.’

‘If it comes to that, he wouldn’t do for her!’

‘Very likely not. What, then, has induced him to relax his monkish rule?’

‘Ask him, my lord – not me!’

‘I’m not so tactless.’

‘Do you object to his visiting us?’

‘Not in the least. I am merely curious. Some strong inducement there must be! Charles has never lacked invitations: he is very well-liked, and comes of a good family: but until the Merrivilles came to London he has very rarely accepted any. It’s my belief he has fallen in love: he forgot to remind me that I was engaged to attend a very dull dinner-party the other day. Unprecedented, I assure you! But if not with Charis –’ He broke off, as a thought occurred to him. ‘Good God! Chloë?’

‘I am not in his confidence, cousin. And if I were I wouldn’t betray it!’

He paid no heed to this. A smile hovered about his mouth; after a moment’s reflection, he said: ‘Life will be fraught with interest, if that’s indeed so. I must cultivate Chloë’s acquaintance!’

Thirteen

Whether the Marquis took any steps to become better acquainted with his young cousin, Frederica had no means of discovering; but he very soon redeemed his promise to demonstrate to the ton his interest in his supposed wards: thus confirming her gathering suspicion that the forgetfulness for which he was notorious was largely assumed. He called in Upper Wimpole Street to pick Charis up, and drove her round Hyde Park at the fashionable hour, several times reining in his grays to exchange greetings with his own friends, or to enable Charis to respond to the salutes of her many admirers. This she did very sweetly, and without a trace of coquetry. He had known many beauties, but never one as innocently unconcerned with her appearance as Charis. Nor did she seem to be at all aware of the signal honour he had conferred upon her, and the surprise and the conjectures which this gave rise to. She thanked him politely for inviting her to drive with him, but disclosed, upon enquiry, that she preferred Kensington Gardens to Hyde Park, because the flowers were so pretty, and there were several walks where one could almost fancy oneself to be in the country.

‘You don’t like London?’ he asked.

‘Oh, yes!’ she replied tranquilly. ‘It is very pleasant, and amusing, only not so comfortable as the country.’

‘It is generally thought to be more comfortable than the country!’

‘Is it?’ She wrinkled her brow. ‘I wonder why?’

‘Let us say that it has more to offer in the way of entertainment.’

‘Oh!’ She pondered for a moment. ‘Yes, of course: there are theatres, and concerts, and reviews, and a great many balls. Only, London parties – though they are very splendid – aren’t as enjoyable as country ones, are they?’

‘Aren’t they? Why not?’

‘I don’t know. I am very stupid at explaining things,’ she said apologetically. ‘I like best the parties where I know everyone – if you understand what I mean?’ After further pause for cogitation, she added: ‘I daresay it is because I’m not accustomed to town-life, or the rude way people stare, if one is a stranger.’

‘Very disagreeable,’ he said gravely. ‘I perceive that I should have done better to have driven you out of town, to some sequestered spot inhabited only by yokels.’

‘But you would have to go a great way for that, wouldn’t you?’

He began to feel bored, and replied somewhat dryly: ‘Very true.’

She relapsed into silence. After a moment, he exerted himself to open another topic of conversation, but as she had few opinions of her own to advance, merely agreeing with all he said, his boredom rapidly increased; and, after taking one more turn about the park, he drove her back to Upper Wimpole Street, mentally apostrophising himself for having so rashly promised to throw the mantle of his protection over her. In any ordinary circumstances he would have banished all thought of her from his mind when he set her down; but the circumstances were not ordinary: he supposed he was in honour bound to invite her to drive out with him again. He did so, asking her where she would like to go. She replied impulsively: ‘Oh! How very kind! I should like of all things to go to Hampton Court, sir! We have been reading about it, Frederica and I, and we wish very much to visit it. Only –’ She hesitated, raising her big eyes deprecatingly to his face.

‘Only?’ he prompted.

‘Would you – would you lend us your escort, Cousin Alverstoke? I mean all of us! Or – or would you liefer not do so? The thing is that there seems to be a famous maze there, and the boys would enjoy it so much!’

Thus it came about that the Marquis found himself, a few days later, conducting a family party to Hampton Court in the barouche which, with its high-stepping horses, was so very well-known to the members of the Four-Horse Club, few of whom would have been able to be

lieve their eyes had they seen the base use to which it was being put. His lordship was not wearing the insignia of the Club, but Jessamy, who took it in turns with Felix to sit beside him on the box, assured his sisters that anyone privileged to watch his handling of the reins would recognise him, at a glance, as one of its members.

In the opinion of the Merrivilles the expedition was quite the most delightful they had yet experienced, even Felix considering that the joys of getting lost in the maze, and being afterwards regaled at the Star and Garter with what he described as a spanking dinner, raised it above his trip to Ramsgate. So many jam tarts did he consume that his brother, calling him a snatchpastry, said that anyone would suppose that he was starving. To which he replied cheerfully, that as he hadn’t had a bite to eat (except for a couple of ices and a few cakes, as a light nuncheon) since a breakfast of eggs, muffins, toast, and preserves, he pretty well was starving.