Page 29 of Sprig Muslin


  ‘Believe me, sir, you flatter me!’ said Sir Gareth dryly.

  ‘Ludlow, am I to demand that you should do the only thing that lies in your power to protect my granddaughter’s reputation?’

  ‘I begin to see that in blaming the circulating libraries for the extremely lurid nature of Amanda’s imagination I have been unjust,’ remarked Sir Gareth. ‘You will permit me to tell you, sir, that you are being absurd.’

  ‘Not absurd!’ struck in Captain Kendal. ‘Ambitious!’

  Lord Widmore, who had been standing wrapped in hurried and constructive thought, suddenly made his presence felt. ‘Quite absurd! Laughable, indeed! Miss Summercourt – pooh, a schoolgirl! I venture to say that her youth is protection enough! You may be easy, General: I give you leave to inform your acquaintance that she has been visiting Lady Widmore at Brancaster, should you think it necessary to put out some story to satisfy the curiosity of the vulgar. But my unfortunate sister’s predicament is a different matter! She is not a child! I do not say that the blame for her having been mad enough to come here is to be laid at your door, Ludlow, but I must deem you grossly to blame for her continued presence here! I would not have believed that you could have been so careless of her reputation had I not been aware of what passed between you at Brancaster. I cannot do other than censure the means you have thought proper to employ to induce my sister to give you another answer than the one you received from her not so long since, but no other course is open to me than to tell her that she has no choice but to become your wife!’

  ‘Kendal!’ said Sir Gareth. ‘Be so good as to act as my deputy, and kick Widmore out! Try if you can find a midden!’

  ‘Yes, pray do!’ said Lady Hester cordially.

  ‘With all the pleasure on earth!’ said the Captain, stepping forward in a purposeful fashion.

  ‘Hold!’ commanded Mr Whyteleafe, in such throbbing and portentous accents that every eye turned towards him. ‘His lordship is mistaken! One other choice lies open to Lady Hester, which I dare to think must be preferable to her than to be linked to a fashionable fribble! Lady Hester, I offer you the protection of my name!’

  ‘Two middens!’ said Sir Gareth savagely.

  ‘No, because I am persuaded he means it very kindly,’ intervened Hester. ‘I am so much obliged to you, Mr Whyteleafe, but it is quite unnecessary for anyone to offer me the protection of their names, because Widmore is talking nonsense, as he very well knows. And I shall be still more obliged to you if you will take him away!’

  ‘You do not mean to remain here?’ exclaimed the chaplain, in horror.

  She did not answer, for she was a little agitated. It was Hildebrand who said hotly: ‘She needn’t scruple to do so, because I shan’t leave Uncle Gary, and I will take very good care of her, I assure you! That is to say, I should, if he was the sort of person you think, but he is not! Uncle Gary, let me throw him out!’

  ‘No,’ said Sir Gareth. ‘You may instead help me out of this chair! Thank you! No, I don’t need any further support. Now! You have all talked yourselves out, I trust, for I am going to say a few words! First, let me make it plain to you that I have not the slightest intention of allowing myself to be coerced into offering marriage to either of the ladies whose reputations I am alleged to have damaged! Second, I have not, in fact, damaged anyone’s reputation. It would be hard to imagine how I could have done so during the time I have been in this inn, and as for the one night at Kimbolton, your granddaughter, General, passed as my ward, as Hildebrand has already told you. Let me add that in no other light have I at any time during my acquaintance with her regarded her. So far from having, as you seem to think, a tendre for her, I can think of few worse fates than to be married to a girl who is not only young enough to be my daughter, but who has what I suspect to be an ineradicable habit of flinging herself into the arms of the military. I suggest, if you feel her fair name to have been smirched in the eyes of your neighbours, that you lose no time in getting her out of the country. No doubt Captain Kendal will be happy to assist you in achieving this object!’

  ‘Thank you: I will!’ said the Captain briskly.

  ‘Nothing will induce me –’ began the General.

  ‘Just let me say what I have to, sir, if you please!’ interposed Captain Kendal. ‘I have hitherto acquiesced in your resolve not to allow Amanda to become my wife while she is still so young. Our attachment is of pretty long standing, but the force of your objections was fully realized by me. I shall not expatiate on that head, because this prank she has played has made me change my mind. It is quite obvious to me, sir, that neither you nor Miss Summercourt has the smallest control over her, and if I don’t take her in hand now she will be utterly ruined! She doesn’t play these tricks on me, so you needn’t be afraid she’ll get into mischief when I have her in Spain: I’ll see to that! And you needn’t be afraid, either, that she won’t be happy, because I’ll see to that, too! I should wish to marry her by special licence, with your consent. If you continue to withhold your consent, I shall be obliged to postpone the ceremony until we reach Lisbon. That’s all I have to say, sir.’ He perceived his betrothed coming through the trees, and called: ‘Here, Amanda, I want you!’

  ‘You know, General, I am quite, quite sure that Captain Kendal is just the man for her,’ said Hester persuasively.

  He groaned. ‘To be throwing herself away on Neil Kendal! It is not what I wish for her!’

  ‘Throwing herself away?’ said Sir Gareth. ‘My dear sir, that young man is clearly destined to become a Marshal!’

  ‘Young Neil?’ said the General, as though such a notion was new to him.

  ‘Certainly! If I were you, I would give in with a good grace. If you could incarcerate her until Kendal has left the country, I should be astonished if I did not hear next that she had stowed away on a vessel bound for Spain.’

  The General shuddered. His granddaughter, having been informed, very kindly, by her strong-minded lover, that if she was a good girl, and did as she was told, he would marry her after all, and take her to Spain, first embraced him fervently, then flung her arms round the General’s neck, and ended by hugging both Lady Hester and Sir Gareth for good measure.

  It was fully an hour before the Bull Inn sank back into its accustomed quiet. The General’s party was the first to leave, and if he was by no means reconciled to his granddaughter’s engagement a suggestion made by his prospective son-in-law that he should accompany the bridal pair to Lisbon had undoubtedly found favour with him.

  Lord Widmore lingered, alternately commanding and beseeching his sister to return immediately to her home. In these exhortations he was joined by the chaplain. Lady Hester listened to them with patience, but although she said she was sorry to vex her brother, she remained gently determined not to desert her patient. Lord Widmore then declared that since she was of age she might please herself, but that for his part he washed his hands of her.

  ‘Oh, do you?’ she said. ‘I am so glad, for it is what I have longed for you to do for such a time! Pray give my love to Almeria! I must take Gareth his medicine now: excuse me, please!’

  Sir Gareth, left alone in the orchard to recover from the exhausting effect of his guests, watched her come towards him, carrying his medicine. ‘I am glad you haven’t left me to my fate,’ he remarked.

  ‘Oh, no! Such nonsense! Here is this evil-smelling dose which Dr Chantry says is what you should take.’

  ‘Thank you,’ he said, receiving the glass from her, and pouring its contents on to the grass.

  ‘Gareth!’

  ‘I have had enough of Dr Chantry’s potions. Believe me, they taste worse than they smell! Hester, that brother of yours is a sapskull.’

  ‘Oh, yes, I know he is!’ she agreed.

  ‘I meant what I said, you know. I don’t think myself bound to offer you the protection of my name – did you ever listen to
so much fustian? I’ll swear I never did! – because the suggestion that I have compromised you is as ludicrous as it is nauseating.’

  ‘Of course it is. Don’t let us talk about it! It was so stupid!’

  ‘We will never mention it again, if you will give me your assurance that you have no qualms. Look at me!’

  She obeyed, with a tiny smile. ‘Gareth, it is too foolish! How can you ask me such a question?’

  ‘I couldn’t bear to think, love, that you might consent to marry me for such a reason as that,’ he said quietly.

  ‘No,’ she answered. ‘Or I that you might ask me for such a reason as that.’

  ‘You may be very sure I would not. This is not the first time I have asked you to marry me, Hester.’

  ‘Not the first time, but this is different – I think?’ she said shyly.

  ‘Quite different. When I asked you at Brancaster I held you in affection and esteem, but I believed I could never be in love again. I was wrong. Will you marry me, my dear and last love?’

  She took his face between her hands, and looked into his eyes. A sigh, as though she were rid of a burden, escaped her. ‘Yes, Gareth,’ she said. ‘Oh, yes, indeed I will!’

  About the Author

  Author of over fifty books, Georgette Heyer is one of the best-known and best-loved of all historical novelists, making the Regency period her own. Her first novel, The Black Moth, published in 1921, was written at the age of seventeen to amuse her convalescent brother; her last was My Lord John. Although most famous for her historical novels, she also wrote twelve detective stories. Georgette Heyer died in 1974 at the age of seventy-one.

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  Georgette Heyer, Sprig Muslin

 


 

 
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