False Colours

His arrival threw the reduced staff into some disorder, but neither the new butler, nor his wife, showed the smallest disposition to question his identity. He said, quite in Evelyn’s careless manner, that he supposed he must have forgotten to tell them that he meant to return within a few days; and added, by the way, that her ladyship would be joining him the following week. These tidings appeared to stun the butler; but Mrs Norton, her eyes kindling with housewifely fervour, instantly began to formulate a number of plans for my lady’s reception, and to ask so many questions about the number of servants my lady meant to bring down with her from London, that Kit very soon escaped from the house, and walked across the park to visit his old nurse.

As he had expected, she recognized him, if not as soon as she saw him, the instant he spoke to her. She gave him a fond welcome; asked him several searching questions about his health, recalling to his memory various childish disorders which he had long since forgotten; and accepted, with no more than a shake of her head, and a disapproving click of the tongue, the intelligence that he was impersonating Evelyn. But when she discovered (after some still more searching questions) that the masquerade had been forced on him by the inexplicable disappearance of his brother, he found her far more sympathetic than any of the three other conspirators. She exclaimed: ‘Oh, if ever there was such a whisky-frisky, downright naughty boy – ! Never you mind, Master Kit-dear! I’ll give him a good rakedown when I see him. The idea of him getting up to his tricks at his age, and just when he’s going to be married, too! But don’t you fret, my dearie: no one will know you; and, as for his lordship, you should know better than to get into the fidgets over him! If he’s in a scrape, mark my words if he don’t save his groats, and come safe home, bless him!’

Kit was not surprised to find that his nurse knew of Evelyn’s matrimonial plans; but when he presently learned from Fimber, whom he found unpacking his valise in the bedroom in the west wing of the house, which Evelyn had inhabited a fortnight before, that the rest of the household was similarly well-informed, he could not help wondering whether any secret could be kept from servants, particularly such a perilous secret as his own. Fimber seemed to be untroubled by doubts; but he said, as he set out Kit’s brushes on the dressing-table, that he had been thinking the matter over, and had reached certain conclusions.

Eyeing him with misgiving, Kit demanded: ‘What conclusions?’

‘Well, sir,’ responded Fimber, ‘it must be remembered that it has become extremely unusual for his lordship to visit Ravenhurst, so that your arrival today has given rise to a good deal of curiosity. In any ordinary circumstances, as I hope I don’t need to assure you, I should instantly give the Nortons a heavy set-down, but in this case I felt it would be better to drop a hint to them.’

‘A hint of what?’ said Kit, with even greater misgiving.

‘Of your approaching nuptials, sir – assuming that you are his lordship,’ said Fimber, tenderly laying a pile of shirts on one of the wardrobe shelves. ‘Naturally, rumours of the event had reached Ravenhurst some time since, but I had not previously confirmed these.’

‘Oh, you hadn’t?’

‘No, sir,’ said Fimber imperturbably. ‘It is not my practice to go beyond the bounds of commonplace civility when conversing with the Nortons. Very respectable people, I daresay, but mere newcomers. I apprehended that they would try to discover from me what had brought you back to Ravenhurst, and I was prepared to meet with astonishment – not to say disbelief, Mr Christopher.’

‘What the devil did you tell them?’

‘That you wished to look into things here, sir – as was agreed before we left the Metropolis. It is perfectly well-known to everyone that it is my lord’s uncle who holds the reins, and that my lord won’t concern himself in any way with what he doesn’t feel to be his own. So I was obliged, Mr Christopher, to drop a hint that there would shortly be Changes at Ravenhurst.’

‘Did that satisfy the Nortons?’

‘Oh, yes, sir! Quite excited they are, hoping that her young ladyship may take a fancy to the place, and persuade my lord to open up all the rooms, like they should be, and like they always were when his late lordship was alive – not that they know anything about that, except by hearsay. If I might make a suggestion, you should tell Mrs Norton to have her ladyship’s apartments got ready for you to inspect – as if you was planning to refurnish them, sir.’

Kit raised no objection to this; but he looked suspiciously at Fimber, well aware that the precision of his speech, and the wooden manner he had assumed boded a further, and certainly less palatable suggestion. He said: ‘I can do that easily enough, but you may as well tell me now as later what else you’ve got in mind.’

‘I beg your pardon, sir?’

‘Stop hiding your teeth!’ commanded Kit. ‘You don’t ride on my back, so don’t think it! What’s up your sleeve?’

‘I’m sure I don’t know what you may mean, sir. It merely occurs to me that it would be a good thing if you was to send for your bailiff, to discuss all the business of the place with you. But no doubt you’ve already thought of that.’

‘I’ve done no such thing!’ said Kit forcefully. ‘Send for Goodleigh – who is not my bailiff – to discuss my brother’s affairs with him? Thank you! that would be beyond everything!’

‘Then you’d as well turn tail at once, Mr Christopher, for nobody’s going to believe you’ve come down to look into things if you don’t look into them!’ retorted Fimber, reverting to his usual manner. ‘That would be just the very thing to set people wondering, that would! There’s no need for such a humdurgeon. Why shouldn’t you talk to Mr Goodleigh about the estate, and ride round with him, maybe? If you mean to tell me his lordship would take a huff, all I can say is that it ain’t for you to accuse me of hiding my teeth, sir! You know as well as I do that his lordship would bid you do as you thought fit, and welcome!’

‘Yes, I daresay, but –’

‘You’re blue-devilled, Mr Christopher: that’s what’s amiss!’ interrupted Fimber bracingly. ‘And no one could wonder at it, with the house like a tomb, and you missing his lordship, as I’ll be bound you are. You’ll feel more the thing when you’ve eaten your dinner. It seems his lordship didn’t use any of the rooms but those in this wing when he was here, so I told Norton you’d do likewise. The library has been made ready for you, and dinner will be served you in the Green Parlour, so you go down, sir, and be comfortable!’

A short but excellent dinner certainly relieved Kit’s depression, but it did nothing to lessen his reluctance to obtain access to the bailiff’s records by what could only be regarded as a cheat. He would have found it hard to explain the repugnance he felt, for he had nothing to gain, and he knew even better than Fimber that so far from objecting to his conduct Evelyn would be very much more likely to demand to know what the devil he meant by imagining that he could object to it. The feeling of distaste lingered, however, and if his hand had not been forced he would have evaded an encounter with the bailiff.

But this worthy presented himself at the house before Kit had finished his breakfast on the following morning; and when his supposed employer joined him, perforce, in the library, he greeted him with a warm smile, and an apology for failing to wait upon him when he had visited Ravenhurst a fortnight earlier. He disclosed that when he had laid the quarterly accounts before Lord Brumby my lord had informed him (with gratifying condescension) that he had every expectation of being able, shortly, to resign his trusteeship; and had charged him to do all that lay within his power to put my Lord Denville in possession of every relevant detail that concerned the management of his Sussex estate. He added, beaming upon Kit, that if he had had warning of his previous visit he would not have failed to have waited upon him. ‘For, if I may be permitted to say so, my lord – I – and, I believe, all who are employed at Ravenhurst – have been eagerly awaiting the day when you would assume

the control of your inheritance. Not that I, or anyone, would utter a word in disparagement of my Lord Brumby! No one could have been more punctilious in the execution of his duties than Mr Henry – Lord Brumby, I should say! – but it is not the same thing, sir! Not to those of us who watched you and Mr Kit grow up from your cradles! And how is Mr Kit, my lord?’

Mr Kit, resigning himself to the inevitable, said that he was very well; accepted gracefully felicitations on his twin’s approaching marriage; and expressed his willingness to spend the rest of the golden summer’s morning amongst the several forbidding tomes which Goodleigh had brought up to the house for his inspection. Fortunately, it did not occur to Goodleigh that his noble master was much more interested in the property bequeathed by the late Earl to his younger son than in his own vast inheritance.

During the next two days, Kit’s boredom was enlivened by instructive rides round the estates with Goodleigh, and by a ceremonial visit from the Vicar of the parish. On the third day, the reduced staff at Ravenhurst was thrown into a state of excited expectation, and himself one of instinctive foreboding, by the arrival of two coaches from London, accommodating, amongst a number of lesser menials, the steward, my lord’s and my lady’s own footmen, and the extortionately paid, and vastly superior individual who held sway over the kitchens in my lord’s town-house in Hill Street. These vehicles were followed some time later by a large fourgon, which was found to contain, besides a mountain of trunks, several housemaids, two kitchen-porters, two subordinate footmen, and such articles of furniture as my lady considered indispensable for her comfort. Later still an elegant private chaise swept up to the main entrance. The steps having been let down, a stately female, who bore all the appearance of a dowager of high estate but was, in fact, none other than Miss Rimpton, my lady’s top-lofty dresser, alighted, to be followed, a moment later, by my lady herself, far from stately, but ravishing in a pomona green silk gown which clung to her shapely person, and the very latest mode in bonnets: a dazzling confection with a high crown, a huge, upstanding poke-front, pomona green ribbons, and a cluster of curled ostrich plumes. Mr Fancot, arriving on the scene just in time to hand this vision down from the chaise, was the immediate recipient of an unnerving announcement, delivered in an urgent undervoice.

‘Dearest, the most dreadful thing!’ said her ladyship, casting herself into his arms, and speaking into his ear. ‘There was nothing to be done but to pack up immediately, and come down to support you! And don’t, I implore you, try to law it in my dish, Kit, because I never foresaw it, and am wholly overset already!’

Eight

It was some time before Kit was able to detach his mama from the various senior members of the household who were either demanding, or receiving, instructions from her; but he managed to do it at last, and to withdraw with her to the library. Shutting the door upon the ominously hovering form of Miss Rimpton, he said, between laughter and anxiety: ‘For God’s sake, Mama, tell me the worst! I can’t bear the suspense for another moment! What is the dreadful thing that has brought you here five days before your time? Why all those servants? Why so much baggage?’

‘Oh, dear one, do but let me rid myself of this hat before you bombard me with questions!’ she begged, untying its strings. ‘It is giving me the headache, which is too vexatious, for it is quite new, and wickedly expensive! Indeed, if it had not been so excessively becoming I should have refused to purchase it. Except, of course, that when one owes one’s milliner a vast amount of money the only thing to be done is to order several more hats from her. I bought the prettiest lace cap imaginable at the same time: you shall see it this evening, and tell me if you don’t think it becomes me.’ She removed the hat from her head, and looked at it critically. ‘This does, too, I think,’ she said. ‘And what a very smart hat it is, Kit! It’s what you, or Evelyn, would call bang-up to the nines! But it does make my head ache.’ She sighed, and added tragically: ‘There’s no end to the troubles besetting me: first it’s one thing, and then it’s another! And all at the same moment, which quite wears down one’s spirits.’