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Authors: Jude Morgan

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‘I’m a little hot and tired, that’s all,’ she told him.

‘Well! that’s a relief, at any rate,’ he said, after studying her — she had her back to him, but she could feel it — for several long moments. ‘It means you have been dancing. I was rather afraid
my
absence might desolate you so much you would remain a tragic wallflower all evening.’

‘Yes, I have been dancing, Mr Milner, and a good thing I did
not
wait for you, as you took yourself off so bearishly.’

‘Oh, well, I knew you wouldn’t lack for partners,’ he said offhandedly.

‘Good heavens, is that my second compliment?’

‘Not necessarily. Oh, look, Byron

and Scott and Moore

these must be Leabrook’s additions. As is that marble chimney-piece, I fancy. He’s certainly going all out for improvements. I wish he weren’t. Fanny has been plaguing me to do the same to the Manor. Stucco and a Chinese room and a grotto and Gothick arches in the cow-barn, you know.’ He peered gloomily into a folio of maps. ‘I always think Brazil is too big.’

‘Oh, Mr Milner, don’t,’ she cried. He looked up in surprise. Again she didn’t know why, but the thought of the Manor being remodelled in the grand Hethersett fashion distressed her. ‘I mean

your house has a good deal of character as it is.’

‘Do you think so?’ He smiled. ‘I confess I’m fond of the old place, though when I was a young pup I thought it the dullest box in creation and could hardly wait to leave it. We always think we know what we want: when in truth there is nothing we are less likely to know. There, I make you a present of that piece of wisdom, Miss Fortune.’

‘Well, I certainly wouldn’t pay for it.’

He grinned. ‘Ah, you are looking better already. I shall vex you back into entire good humour before I’m done. Would you say we are related?’

‘No

or only in the loosest sense

but I’m trying to think what this question is going to lead to.’

‘Oh, don’t trouble, the processes of my thoughts are so rarefied and subtle, you’ll never follow them. No, I suppose we are not really relatives,’ he said, rubbing his rasping chin. ‘You are my aunt Selina’s niece, on her side, and I am your uncle John’s nephew, on his side, but it is rather tenuous, which is a pity. A true relation would allow us to be Stephen and Caroline to one another, instead of Mr Milner and Miss Fortune. Think how much more naturally, spontaneously and freely we could quarrel if we were on those terms.’

‘Oh, do be serious!’

Quite gently he said: ‘I am trying to be.’

But whether this were so, or whether he was merely taking his habitual irony a step further, she was not to know

as at that moment Mr Leabrook himself came in.

‘Ah!’ he said, his gaze just skimming over Caroline, his smile unfaltering. ‘Dwellers in the abode of peace. I’m afraid I come as a destroyer, though: Isabella has commissioned me to find her scapegrace brother — sorry, Milner, her words — and make him join the dancing.’

‘Oh, Lord, must I? In a minute then. Only when there are no damnable fiddling quadrilles. I always take hold of the wrong hands and it all goes to blazes. I wish we could all just wave our spears round the camp-fire like sensible heathens.’

Caroline, meanwhile, was already on her way to the door: she had had enough of Richard Leabrook’s proximity for one night; and so quick was she that she hardly noticed the look, alert, hard and speculative, with which Stephen observed her rapid exit.

Chapter
XVI

Now, my dear girl, aren’t you glad you came after all?’ Isabella said, taking Caroline’s arm as the bell was rung for supper. ‘You know I simply can’t be happy unless everyone else is. Though in truth that is rather selfish, isn’t it? Oh, well. Now Fanny I know is happy because she is discussing the theory of the sublime with Mr Carraway. Stephen I presume is happy because he is lurking about like a dog that has had no run all day, which he seems to like best. But the person I am a little concerned for is Captain Brunton. I know I have been rather severe on him in the past

but I don’t like to see him looking so mumpish. What can it be, do you suppose? Has he quarrelled with my stepmother?’

‘I think it may be a love-trouble,’ Caroline answered carefully, ‘but I’m not sure of what sort. And then I dare say the sight of Mr Leabrook’s house, and the style in which he lives, has put him in mind of his own situation

which is so very different.’

‘I never thought of that,’ Isabella said, with a grave look. ‘Oh, but then he has been a naval captain, and they did such fine things for us in the war

he can surely hold his head up in any company.’ ‘Perhaps you should tell him so

in a subtle way.’ ‘Perhaps so. You are a thoughtful creature, Caroline Fortune.’ ‘Oh, Lord, not I.’ Caroline laughed, feeling uncomfortable

and then feeling more so when Matthew Downey appeared, and offered her his arm to go in to supper.

‘You’ll forgive me, Miss Milner,’ he said, ‘but I know my friend Leabrook will claim his exclusive right to
your
arm

and as for me, I claim the rights of old acquaintance. Now then,’ he went on cheerfully as Caroline, seeing no way of refusal, took his arm, ‘is this not wonderfully reminiscent? Is this not just like the old days in Brighton, Miss Fortune?’

‘Uncannily like.’ She saw Stephen and Mr Leabrook approaching, and wished they had been a little quicker.

‘You see, I have been thinking,’ Matthew confided, ‘and as you no doubt perceive, I have decided to disregard our earlier conversation. I find I can always forgive where I understand: and I understand, Miss Fortune, what made you speak with such violence. You were
hurt
by my aunt’s dismissal of you — and the hurt has made you excessive. Great heavens, I should know about that!

the many times
I
have found myself angry with Aunt Sophia, when she has seemed to act slightingly. But I can assure you, the pain will pass.’

Caroline thanked him and replied, with a fixed smile, that she could almost feel it passing already.

‘You know, I think it not impossible that Aunt Sophia might be brought to acknowledge you again, Miss Fortune. Not reinstate you in your old position, of course

but acknowledge you at least as an acquaintance. What do you think of that?’

As it was not possible to tell Matthew what she thought without resorting to the vocabulary of the barrack-room, Caroline only said: ‘I do not look for such an honour, Mr Downey.’

‘Well, I might put in a word
...
Ah, Leabrook, I was just saying to Miss Fortune how like old times this is. Do you remember when we all danced at the Castle? Maria, do you remember?’

Miss Downey, who had positioned herself adroitly at Stephen’s elbow, yawned prettily and said: ‘I make it a rule never to remember anything before last week. It makes life more interesting, wouldn’t you say, Mr Milner?’

‘Now I am supposed to ask you how,’ he said, yawning back, ‘so consider it done, Miss Downey.’

‘You cross creature! Because, sir, it prevents the staleness of familiarity. You can greet even the dullest acquaintance with pleasure, if you have forgotten the dreary story they told you last Monday.’

‘Well, you must remember, Leabrook,’ Matthew pursued, ‘because it was the very next day you took yourself off. I never did understand why you were in such a peculiar hurry.’

‘Lord, what a memory you have, Downey,’ Mr Leabrook said, laughing. ‘I fear mine is more like your sister’s

quite a sieve in fact. Well, shall we go in?’

‘Do you know Brighton, Mr Milner?’ Maria enquired, insinuating herself on to his arm.

‘It’s a town in Sussex, Miss Downey,’ Stephen said. Caroline suppressed a smile: Maria certainly had her work cut out.

At their supper-table they were joined by Lady Milner and Captain Brunton and then, late, breathless and flushed, Fanny and Mr Carraway.

‘Outside!’ Fanny cried in answer to her stepmother’s wishing to know, in tones of primmest interrogation, where exactly she had been. ‘To look at the stars! Oh, Augusta, don’t make that pursy mouth

we were not
alone,
heaven forfend. We went to the stables to consult with your head groom, Richard

old Mr Blades. He is a true countryman, you see, with a true countryman’s knowledge.’

‘Aye, he has certainly been telling me the error of my ways for many a year,’ sighed Mr Leabrook.

‘It was my idea, Lady Milner,’ Mr Carraway confessed. ‘We were wondering how the weather would be tomorrow, when Mr Leabrook has promised us
a
fête
out of doors, and I said we must consult a man of nature, for they always know. And Mr Blades took a view of the stars, and declared that tomorrow will be fine

fine and bright.’

‘Ask him who’s going to win the Derby,’ grunted Stephen.

‘Well, if Blades is right, a picnic it shall be,’ Mr Leabrook said, ‘down by the pond perhaps
—’

‘Oh, Richard, surely it will still be too cold for sitting down outdoors,’ Isabella reproached him. ‘We haven’t all your constitution.’

‘Perhaps you’re right,’ Mr Leabrook said equably. ‘A curse on the English climate! I was reading somewhere that it is the basis of our national greatness, because it means we can never be comfortable, and so must always be up and doing, and discovering lands and building manufactories and whatnot. For my part I would gladly exchange a few sugar islands for a little more sunshine. Well, we may certainly take a turn about the park, even if we do not eat outdoors. Mr Carraway, I shall be interested to learn what you think of the improvements. It was an associate of Repton’s who did the designing. I fancy he has cleared too much timber. Lady Milner, you have an eye for such things, I judge

you will join our party tomorrow, will you not? And you, of course, Captain Brunton—

‘I beg your pardon, sir,’ Captain Brunton said, in a bristling manner, sitting bolt upright, ‘why do you say
of course?’

‘I meant, sir,’ Mr Leabrook said temperately, after a short laugh, ‘that you are of course welcome: that it goes without saying.’

Captain Brunton dabbed a stiff bow at him. ‘It happens, sir, that I have other business tomorrow.’

‘Edward! What can you mean?’ Lady Milner cried in surprise. ‘You have told
me
nothing of this.’

‘It’s of no account,’ Captain Brunton said, ‘a small matter

not worth the mentioning.’

‘Then it can surely be put aside, to take up Mr Leabrook’s invitation,’ said Lady Milner, with a look half beseeching, half peevish.

‘Of course, if you wish me to come, Augusta, then

then to be sure
—’

‘Oh, please, sir, don’t inconvenience yourself,’ Mr Leabrook said, with a negligent wave.

‘Welcome to the country, Miss Downey,’ Stephen said to Maria, ‘where people actually argue themselves out of their pleasures. Puritan strain, you know. Cromwell was from hereabouts

the one with the warts and the Ironsides and all that.’

‘Was he really?’ Miss Downey said. ‘How very curious!

though why it should be so I don’t know, as he had to come from somewhere. The thing that fairly fags my wits is looking around and seeing so many people, and thinking that they must
all
come from somewhere

is that not the most perplexing thing?’

‘In a certain sense, they all come from the same place,’ Stephen remarked, his eye momentarily catching Caroline’s.

‘The country

the country is where I always feel most reflective,’ Matthew said. ‘But that would not do all the time

not for me. Now Brighton, Mr Milner, you would like it greatly

it is the liveliest of all watering-places, and for my part I always feel more
alive
where there is a great gathering of people. I don’t necessarily mean
society,
for I hope I am not enslaved to that
—’

‘Brighton, no thank you,’ Stephen said, cutting off Matthew before he could inform them about all his tastes. ‘I have been there

all bright and smart and sticky like new gingerbread. Give me an old, tottering, out-of-fashion place where everyone is half mad.’

‘You droll creature,’ Maria said, tapping his arm, ‘yet it is plain you know London pretty well.’

‘To be sure he does, but he won’t take
me
there,’ burst out Fanny.

‘Certainly not. Your head would be turned in a second,’ Stephen rapped out. ‘London is very well for the rich, the secure, the experienced

but for the young and unworldly, beware.’

‘Oh, Caroline, wasn’t it in London that your mother met your father, and ran away with him?’ Fanny cried. ‘The most romantic story

I was telling it to Mr Carraway. Now
that
ended happily, didn’t it?’

‘Well, I don’t believe my mother ever regretted it,’ Caroline said.

‘That means only that she never
said
so in your hearing,’ Stephen said, ‘as any affectionate mother would not.’

‘My dear Milner,’ Mr Leabrook said in amazement, ‘you grow moral.’

‘Only to tease,’ Isabella said.

‘But don’t you believe that people should follow their hearts, Stephen?’ Fanny appealed to him.

‘Loath as I am even to sully my mouth with such a locution as
following your heart,
which belongs only in the pages of a sentimental novel,’ Stephen said, with tart relish, ‘I will say that it is all very well if you know whither your heart is going. But I would suggest that for most of us, we can as easily follow our hearts as a blind man can follow a lantern.’

‘You may say what you like,’ Fanny returned, ‘but I know
my
heart.’

‘Pah, that’s like a man with a farthing in his pocket saying he knows his wealth,’ Stephen snapped.

‘Fie, sir,’ cried Mr Carraway, ‘this is too much

is this not mere seniority scoffing at the sensibility of ardent youth? I know you are Miss Fanny’s elder brother, and stand
in loco parentis,
but I must protest. I
can
protest to you, because I know you like frank speaking.’

‘I don’t stand
in loco
anything,’ Stephen said, with an impatient look.

‘Oh, you needn’t leap to my defence, Mr Carraway, though I appreciate the gallantry,’ Fanny said composedly. ‘The fact is Stephen is always dismissive of the feelings because he is simply an awkward, contrary, impossible man.’

‘Well! Brighton, you know,’ put in Matthew, ‘I am surprised at you, Mr Milner, for not liking it — for I like it extremely — and you, Miss Fortune, liked Brighton too, I know — is it not strange Mr Milner not liking it?’

‘I like wearing flowers in my hair for a ball, Mr Downey, but I should not expect Mr Milner to finish off his breeches and tailcoat with a crown of lilies,’ Caroline answered, smiling.

‘I never supposed that he would,’ Matthew said, with a puzzled frown.

‘Gad, but I’m tempted!’ breathed Stephen, in an undertone.

‘Oh! wait

you are being jocular,’ Matthew said, his brow clearing, ‘of course

I remember that from Brighton.’

‘You must all have known each other pretty well at Brighton — isn’t that curious?’ Isabella said.

‘Not really curious,’ Mr Leabrook said, ‘for that’s the way Brighton is — continual society. Indeed, as Milner suggests, that is all there is to it. Now, about tomorrow: I propose I send my carriage over
...’

He did not like talk of Brighton, Caroline thought: there was something they had in common, at any rate.

Supper over, the music struck up from the ballroom again, and Maria Downey, rising effortfully from her seat, stretched her long limbs at Stephen and drowsily asked: ‘Are you as averse to dancing as you are to watering-places, Mr Milner?’

‘Yes

but as I
have
been to Brighton, but have
not
danced this evening, I may as well even it out. If that is what you are suggesting, Miss Downey’

BOOK: Indiscretion
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