‘Oh, no, I don’t think so! Freddy is going to hatch another scheme.’
‘Legerwood, you know very well he will do no such thing! We shall be obliged to do something!’
‘Nonsense, my love! Freddy assures me he is bound to think of something,’ said his lordship, at his most urbane.
But no one was more surprised than he when his heir, having sat throughout the second course at dinner wrapped in profound thought, announced suddenly: ‘Knew I should hit on something! Well, I have!’
Lady Legerwood, whose conversation during dinner had meandered between the sufferings of her younger children, and the predicament in which her married daughter found herself, looked doubtfully at him. ‘Hit on what, dear Freddy?’
‘Meg,’ replied Freddy succinctly. ‘Going to visit her.’
‘Are you, my love? But—Oh, now you put me in mind of it I recall that she is going to Almack’s tonight, with Emily Cowper!’
‘Find her there,’ said Freddy.
‘Well, of course, dear—But you are not dressed for Almack’s!’
‘Go back to my lodgings and change. Plenty of time!’ said Freddy. ‘Must see Meg!’
‘This brotherly devotion is most affecting,’ remarked Lord Legerwood. ‘May we know why it has so suddenly attacked you?’
‘It ain’t anything of the sort, sir!’ said Freddy, justly indignant. ‘Told you I’d hit on something! Came to me with the cheese-cakes!’
‘What a tribute to the cook!’ said his father.
He looked at Freddy with an expression of patient resignation; but Miss Charing, who had been vainly trying, ever since the news of the epidemic raging in the house had been broken to her, to think of an alternative to returning to Arnside on the morrow, said anxiously: ‘Is it about me, Freddy?’
‘Of course it is. Famous good notion! Meg don’t want to stay with old Lady Buckhaven, don’t want Cousin Amelia to keep her company, can’t have Fanny, because she’s got the measles—better have you!’
Lord Legerwood, in the act of raising his claret-glass to his lips, lowered it again, and regarded his son almost with awe. ‘These unsuspected depths, Frederick—! I have wronged you!’
‘Oh, I don’t know that, sir!’ Freddy said modestly. ‘I ain’t clever, like Charlie, but I ain’t such a sapskull as you think!’
‘I have always known you could not be, my dear boy.’
‘Kitty to stay with Meg!’ Lady Legerwood said, considering it dubiously. ‘I must say—But would it answer? I am sure Lady Buckhaven wishes her to have some older female with her, and I own—’
‘No need to tell her Kit’s age, ma’am. Never leaves Gloucestershire, so she ain’t likely to find out. Besides, couldn’t kick up a dust! Affianced wife—can’t stay here, because of the measles, stays with m’sister instead. Quite the thing!’
‘Oh, Freddy!’ exclaimed Miss Charing, eyes and cheeks glowing, ‘it is a splendid scheme! Only, will your sister like it?’
‘Like anything that kept her away from old Lady Buckhaven,’ said Freddy. Upon reflection, he added: ‘Except cousin Amelia. Well—stands to reason!’
So shortly after ten o’clock, just as Miss Charing was climbing into bed after a quiet evening spent in poring over the fashion-plates in various periodicals, Mr Standen, beautiful to behold in knee-breeches and striped stockings, blue coat with very long tails, a white waistcoat, and a neckcloth which caused an acquaintance almost to swoon with envy, sauntered into the vestibule at Almack’s Assembly Rooms. He handed his hat and his coat to an attendant lackey, gave a couple of twitches to his wrist-bands and favoured the great Mr Willis with a nod.
Mr Willis, according him the bow due to a Pink of the Ton, would not have dreamed of asking to see his voucher. Quite surprising persons might find themselves excluded from Almack’s, but not the most capricious of its patronesses would have entertained for a moment the thought of excluding Mr Standen. He was neither witty nor handsome; his disposition was retiring; and although he might be seen at any social gathering, he never (except by the excellence of his tailoring) drew attention to himself. Not for Mr Standen, the tricks and eccentricities of gentlemen seeking notoriety! He was quite a pretty whip, but no one had ever seen him take a fly off the leader’s ear, or heard of his breaking a record in a racing-curricle; he rode well to hounds, without earning the title of neck-or-nothing; and while he sometimes practised single-stick in Jackson’s Boxing Saloon, or tossed off a third of daffy in Cribb’s Parlour, he was no Corinthian. Indeed, so far from aspiring to pop in a hit over Jackson’s guard, or to stand up for any number of rounds with some Pet of the Fancy, he would have disliked either experience very much indeed. Nor could anyone have thought him an ideal cavaliere-servente, for he was too inarticulate to pay charming compliments, and had never been known to indulge in the mildest flirtation. But a numerous circle of male acquaintances held him in considerable af
fection, and with the ladies he was a prime favourite. The most sought-after beauty was pleased to stand up with so graceful a dancer; any lady desirous of redecorating her drawing-room was anxious for his advice; no hostess considered her invitation-list complete without his name. His presence did not, of course, confer on a party the distinction that Mr Brummell’s did, but he was a much more agreeable guest, never arriving long after he had been despaired of and then departing within twenty minutes, and never startling the old-fashioned by uttering calculated impertinences. He could be depended upon, too. He would not stand against the wall, refusing to dance; and no hostess, presenting him to the plainest damsel in the room, had the smallest fear that he would excuse himself, or abandon his partner at the earliest opportunity. He was an excellent escort for any lady deprived at the last moment of her lord’s attendance, for his appearance could not but add to her consequence, and he was always nice to a fault in every attention to her comfort. Nor was the most jealous husband suspicious of him. ‘Oh, Freddy Standen!’ said these green-eyed gentlemen. ‘In that case, ma’am, very well!’
So Mr Willis, who did not condescend to chat with every visitor to the club, welcomed Mr Standen affably, and frowned at the footman who was trying to present him with a quadrille-card. Whoever else might need instruction in the figures of the quadrille Mr Standen most certainly did not.
‘Seen Lady Buckhaven tonight, Willis?’ enquired Freddy, bestowing a final touch to his neckcloth.
‘Yes, indeed, sir. Her ladyship came in with my Lady Cowper half-an-hour ago. Mr Westruther was one of her ladyship’s party.’
‘Oh, he’s here, is he?’ said Freddy. ‘Much of a squeeze?’
‘No, sir, we are a little thin of company, the season not having begun,’ replied Mr Willis regretfully. ‘But it wants forty minutes till eleven, and no doubt we may expect to see the rooms fill up tolerably well.’