the_comfortable_courtesan

Seasonal Celebration (6)

His uncle, her husband had explained to Cretia, had most particular desired to take a place in the Lincolnshire wolds – was where his mother had come from – but had not initially imagined that there might be a possibility that Carlefour Castle might be to let! Oh, had all been put about very discreet –

Indeed, said Cretia, I fancy one would not advertize in the press!

Mr Grigson nodded approvingly. Quite so. But there was that exceedingly sensible young woman Lady Undersedge, considering the expense they were at over her father’s malaise –

Cretia had come to apprehend that Myo’s late father-in-law had been an entire malade imaginaire!

– and that the family was not keeping state at Carlefour, a very business-like decision. Came to answer exceedingly – the fine shooting made an introduction in local masculine Society – and once Lady Bexbury had made the entrée for my mother among local ladies, why, she is completely content.

Cretia gave a little sigh and said that sure Lady Bexbury had quite a genius for managing matters.

Her husband smiled and remarked that she had been about it a good while! – was not the tale of how she had quite made her relatives the Ferrabys, that had once been mere provincial industrialists, constantly alluded to?

She might almost be jealous of Mr Grigson’s admiration for the Dowager Marchioness, was it not a most general feeling among the set she was now in. And sure there was no adverse gossip about that still exquisite lady – none made salacious speculation about her tame philosopher about the house – given out a bastard half-brother of the late Lord Raxdell’s, that she looks after for his sake – there was Sir Vernon Horrabin went dangle after her, had done so for years, but indeed, would be hard to sacrifice the rank of Dowager Marchioness! –

A deal of admiring young men and women at her feet, to whom she acted the kindly mentor –

They had had some hopes she might be persuaded to come to Carlefour Castle for the New Year, but of course, was a lady that had numerous invitations already, had made her apologies.

Cretia knew that one was not supposed to admire Carlefour – la, 'tis a sad congeries of every style since the Conqueror, almost! – but it was so wonderfully different from the severe and correct proportions of Roughton Arching. That rather than pull down what was already there Earl after Earl had built on – and it was not frozen and not to be tampered with –

Approaching it from certain aspects 'twas in fact considerable impressive. Would, she thought, that she had a talent for water-colours, but they had never had that instruction – mayhap Lady Balstrup’s daughter eloping with the drawing-master had been considered a warning? Or mayhap their father had not wished to be at that expense. Might she have lessons –

I suppose, she said, that one should begin at an earlier age does one wish to dabble in art.

Why, my dear, do you have a fancy to try, I apprehend that Miss de Clérault takes pupils and is well-spoke-of. But you may find yourself rather too occupied during the coming Season.

I daresay! For she was already committed to holding a drawing-room meeting for that excellent enterprize, the Helena Fund, that provided for theatricals that became sick or were injured, and Lady Bexbury had arranged that Miss Addington would come and recite for the benefit of this cause, that very natural was close to her heart. And there would be all the general demands of the Season.

But here they were, drawing up at last at the imposing entrance – 'tis modelled upon some Roman temple a forebear saw on his Grand Tour – and came out to 'em Mr Grilsinger and Mrs Grigson making very welcoming, and hoping their journey had not been arduous – was not the railway an entire boon?

So they went in, and there was a fine fire blazing in the hall and a deal of greenery disposed about, and coming down the stairs in a little of a fluster Myo and Jimsie, Jimsie taking great care in helping her down – but was it possible, did it seem that Myo was walking and moving a little easier of late?

They came over, and made very effusive welcoming, and for all their very sombre garb, they were looking – one might only say, 'twas entire as novels had it, radiant.

And how was Rina? And her offspring? All well, one hoped? – but they would not detain 'em here in the hall, they would wish to go repair from the journey –

Tea would be served in the Turkish drawing-room.

Having rather feared finding that a matter of crossed scimitars upon the walls – was not a chamber she had encountered on her previous visit – was relieved to see that 'twas merely a matter of a very fine carpet upon the floor.

Mr Grigson quite immediate began to discourse with his uncle in low tones concerning various business matters, while the ladies engaged in gossip and accounts of family matters, along with Jimsie being very forward in matters of handing platters and replenishing teacups.

What! Grinnie and his friends were staying at Worblewood – though after all, 'twas Grinnie, that Talshaw had been given to taunt as an entire muff, because his pleasures were of a quieter and less destructive nature than his elder brother’s. One might have a reasonable confidence that the furniture would not be damaged and the servants would not leave in a pack!

Cretia mentioned her thought of taking drawing-lessons –

Jimsie remarked that was an excellent notion, Grissie had observed that Cretia had a very nice eye, when they were about furbishing up her house –

Cretia quite blushed, for Lady Undersedge’s taste and discrimination were everywhere praised and esteemed.

Mrs Grigson began to recount the various entertainments that would be happening over the next few days –

How very much more agreeable this was than Anclewer.

***

There was rather more than a brisk breeze blowing along the sea-front at Margate, but that was nothing to deter the perambulation of Sukey Ferraby, warmly clad in hooded cloak and wearing stout boots.

O! to walk under this fine high sky, even was it somewhat cloudy – 'twas not like the lowering fogs that plagued Town at this season – she could almost feel a physical sensation of spirits lifting – the sky, the sea, the very wind –

And the solitude.

Sure she loved Quintus and the children, would not desire to be parted from 'em – those occasional suggestions that she might spend the winter in some sunnier clime always met that objection – that was it not taking Quintus away from his practice and the patients that depended upon him, it would be leaving him, and either leaving her darlings as well, or separating 'em from their doating father. And somehow – foreign parts – without Quintus – there had been some murmuring that mayhap Barty – she could not imagine her younger brother the most useful of cicerones! – and having chattered with one’s Mademoiselle was surely not the like of conducting daily life in France –

Very daunting –

But, to be alone, even just for these few hours, during this period that seemed somewhat too crowded with company – a deal of visiting back and forth with Quintus’ professional connexions, that was undoubtedly a thing that had to be done, and among their wider social set, such of it that remained in or around Town, and the children’s parties, where one was obliged to make civil with the other mamas and not make odious comparisons.

Was it just Quintus and the children – a few callers – a quieter life – but this time o’year, between the darkness and the conviviality that was required, was ever particular lowering to her spirits.

The oddest thing – who would have thought that she would find sympathy and as 'twere shelter with Papa? Jovial hail-fellow-well-met Sir Barton Wallace MP, that would claim that he was no clever fellow himself but had had the wit to marry a clever wife. But did they find themselves in the same company, would contrive to seek out Sukey and draw her into some corner as if he went enquire into the latest doings of his grandchildren, and hold her hand, and be quiet.

She took a deep breath of the salty air, and looked at the waves, and listened to their music and the sound of the crying seabirds, and felt – refreshed.

***

Sir Godfrey Allder had never seen his young wife in this state before. Had he seen the faintest hint of sadness or discontent on her features he had hastened to do all he could to restore them to smiling – had he not conceded to this round of visits when he would have preferred to spend the time quietly at Wallesfern? Had he ever seen her even in tears? The first time he had ever encountered her, sure she had looked very mournful, the poor creature, he had entirely desired to relieve her melancholy, but naught like this –

Lying on her bed in heaving hysterical sobs, her hair in dishevelment, her face reddened and blubbered with weeping, begging him to take me away from this place!

Something must have happened, but what could it have been? He had noticed some of the ladies looking sideways at his little Juliet, and exchanging glances, and mayhap there had been spiteful words said? Or there were one or two of the gentlemen in the party that one observed were already in their cups by a very early hour o’the day, and in that condition might have offered some coarseness?

What is it, my darling, what is it?

She shook her head quite violently – no – I beg you – do not ask – quite horrible – please, let us go –

Very tentative he put his arms about her and she quite threw herself against him.

Well, he said, 'twould look uncommon particular to leave precipitate this very e’en – but I may plead that have been called away – there were letters this morn, that would make that sound plausible – and must depart the morrow and thus make my apologies.

She looked up at him with swollen eyes. And I need not see anybody? anybody at all?

Do you wish it thus, my dear – will say you are feeling poorly – see might a tray be sent up –

And will you stay with me?

The poor creature was quite shivering. What could have come to her? But he feared that endeavouring to interrogate when she was in this condition would only make matters worse.

I must go, make my excuses, put in hand arrangements for our departure, ask to have dinner sent up – but here, I will get Ruscombe come to you –

Undertake loosening her stays &C, and brushing out that tangled hair, might make her feel better?

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clanwilliam

Poor Juliet. She’s silly, but she’s also very young and inexperienced.

One does rather feel like Blatchett and Talshaw should come to sticky ends and one rather feels Chekov’s Nemesis has been spotted already.