April Lady

Cardross did not suspect Mr Allandale of fortune-hunting, but when the promised visit was paid him, a few days later, he received his sister’s suitor with a cool civility that gave little promise of a yielding disposition.

Mr Allandale was not a nervous man, but it was with considerable reluctance that he presented himself in Grosvenor Square. He prided himself on his level judgement, and although he did not set his own worth low every objection Cardross could raise to his pretensions was felt by him, and acknowledged to be just. His love for Letty bordered, in the opinion of his mother, on infatuation, but it had needed much persuasion from her to induce him to make Cardross a formal offer for her hand. The disparity between them of rank and fortune weighed heavily upon his spirit; he had felt from the outset that his suit was hopeless, and that his wiser course would be too keep out of Letty’s way, and try to put her from his mind. Unfortunately, noble resignation was not a virtue which in any way attracted Letty. When he spoke of parting she first burst into tears, which unmanned him; and then accused him of wanting to be rid of her, which made him utter some very ill-advised vows of eternal fidelity. After that there was no more talk of renunciation. Mr Allandale did indeed speak sometimes of waiting, but with this plan also Letty was out of sympathy; and since he had never desired anything so passionately in the whole of his well-ordered life as to marry her he allowed himself to become infected with her optimism, and even began to think that perhaps Cardross might not prove so inimical to his suit after all, if he were approached in a manly and straightforward way.

This confidence, never very strong, waned as he trod up the steps of Cardross House, and wholly deserted him while he waited for the Earl in the book-room. His appearance was always characterized by a neatness and a propriety of taste which struck the happy mean between the man of fashion and the man of affairs, and he had spent more time than usual that morning on the arrangement of his neckcloth. But as the clock on the high mantelpiece rather aggressively ticked away the minutes he became convinced that the faint stripe in his toilinette waistcoat made him look like a park-saunterer, that his coat of sober blue cloth was too tightly moulded to his form, and that by brushing his mouse-coloured hair into the Brutus style affected by Mr Brummell he had committed a gross error of judgement: Cardross would probably

suspect him of aping the fashions of the dandy-set.

However, when the Earl at last came into the room he did not appear to notice what by this time amounted in Mr Allandale’s mind to the blatant vulgarity of his waistcoat. On the other hand, his handsome, impassive countenance betrayed no sign of pleasure at sight of his visitor, and his greeting was courteous rather than cordial. Overcoming the sudden realization that his errand would certainly be regarded as a piece of presumption, Mr Allandale opened the interview by saying with a stiffness engendered by his determination not to truckle to his siren’s guardian: ‘You may wonder, my lord, why I am here.’

‘No,’ said the Earl.

There was nothing particularly daunting about this calm monosyllable, but it threw Mr Allandale quite out of his stride. His carefully composed speech of explanation had to be abandoned, and he could not immediately decide what to say in its stead.

‘Pray be seated, Mr Allandale!’ invited his host, himself strolling towards a chair.

Mr Allandale hesitated. On the whole, he preferred to remain on his feet, but it was difficult to do so while the Earl sat at his ease, one leg, cased in an elegant Hessian boot, thrown over the other, and one hand even now raising his quizzing-glass to his eye. Mr Allandale sat down, and cleared his throat. ‘I shall be brief,’ he stated. ‘It cannot, I fancy, be unknown to your lordship that I have been so fortunate as to engage the interest of Lady Letitia Merion.’

A flicker of amusement crossed the Earl’s eyes. ‘I understand that the violence of your mutual feelings is such as must melt all but the hardest of hearts. Mine, I am informed, is of marble.’

Colouring, Mr Allandale replied: ‘I am aware, my lord, that the affection I bear Lady Letitia must appear to you in the light of an encroaching fancy.’

‘Oh, no!’ said Cardross. ‘I am really not as high in the instep as you seem to think. I don’t deny that I should prefer her to make what passes in the world for a good match, but, I assure you, if your affections stand the test of time you won’t find me ill-disposed towards you.’

This very reasonable speech added nothing to Mr Allandale’s comfort. He said heavily. ‘I’m obliged to you, sir. I might remind you that the attachment between us was formed more than a year ago, and has but been strengthened by the passage of time, but I shall not do so.’

‘As we see,’ murmured Cardross dryly.

‘The force of your objection is fully felt by me,’ continued Mr Allandale, embarking on one of his rehearsed periods. ‘It might well be thought that Lady Letitia is as yet too young to be permitted to follow the dictates of her heart. Moreover, no one is more conscious than I that in so doing she would be held, in vulgar parlance, to have thrown herself away.’

‘Yes, well, do let us talk in vulgar parlance!’ begged Cardross. ‘Not to wrap the matter up in clean linen, my sister is a foolish chit with a turn for the high-romantical; and you, my dear sir, are not very much wiser! Her fortune apart – and you need not tell me that you wish her fortune at Jericho, because I acquit you of hanging out for a rich wife – I can conceive of few more unsuitable partners for a man in your position. You have your career before you: I wish you very well, and in proof of this can only advise you not to saddle yourself with an extravagant and shatterbrained little puss for a wife!’

Considerably taken-aback by this forthright speech, Mr Allandale could think of nothing better to say than: ‘Am I to understand, then, that you refuse your consent to our betrothal, sir?’

‘For the present, most certainly you are!’ returned the Earl. ‘You look to be a man of sense, so you will not, I hope, accuse me of cruelty. I have not said, nor shall I, that I will never give my consent; I don’t even say that you must wait until Letty comes of age. But do, I beg of you, consider my position in this! Can you feel that I should honourably have fulfilled my charge if I allowed a chit who has not yet reached her eighteenth year to tie herself up in matrimony to a young man in your circumstances?’

‘No,’ said Mr Allandale bleakly.

The Earl was conscious of an impulse to retract, even to bestow his blessing on the lovers. He quelled it, saying cheerfully: ‘Of course you cannot! But if, in a couple of years’ time, you are both still of the same mind, and you come to me again with this proposal, I must be hardhearted indeed to refuse my consent.’

‘I do not anticipate being in England in a couple of years’ time,’ said Mr Allandale, more bleakly still. ‘It was my intention to have explained to your lordship at the outset that I was emboldened to come to you today by the circumstance of my having been appointed to a very advantageous post. I owe this advancement in part to the kind offices of Lord Roxwell, who was formerly much attached to my father; and I have every reason to expect that it will lead, should I acquit myself creditably, to more rapid promotion than has hitherto seemed probable.’

‘I am sure you will acquit yourself admirably, and must beg leave to congratulate you on your good fortune. I collect that you are to join one of our embassies?’

‘Yes, sir. I am appointed – that is to say, I shall, within the next three months be appointed to the staff of our minister at the Court of the Regent of Portugal.’

‘The Regent of Portugal?’ repeated Cardross. ‘But he is in Brazil!’

Mr Allandale inclined his head. ‘Just so, sir,’ he agreed.

‘Good God!’ ejaculated Cardross. ‘Were you proposing in all seriousness to take Letty to South America? You must be mad!’

‘She assures me,’ said Mr Allandale earnestly, ‘that she would like it above all things.’

‘And what the devil do you imagine she knows about it?’ demanded Cardross.

‘I am credibly informed,’ offered Mr Allandale, ‘that the climate at Rio de Janeiro is salubrious.’

‘Oh, take a damper!’ said Cardross impatiently. ‘Did this cork-brained notion come out of your head, or hers? Did she persuade you to come here today, or – No, of course she did! You at least cannot have supposed that there was the least likelihood of my consenting to such a preposterous scheme!’