CHAPTER SIXTEEN
In pursuance of the grand plan, the two friends met at the Pump Room next morning, Mr Gilmorton appearing none the worse for his inebriation of the previous evening.
They abandoned their respective relatives to seek out Lady Dembleby.
Before they encountered her, however, Mr Gilmorton espied Miss Brailes with her mama, though thankfully minus her boring brother.
He led Barkby towards the pair, and Caroline Brailes’ eyes lit up at his approach.
He smiled back, and the smile was all for her.
‘Lady Brailes, Miss Brailes, may I present to you my dear friend, Major Lord Barkby.’
‘Oh, so you are Lord Barkby! I have heard about you from Lady Dembleby.’ Caroline managed to control herself enough to not keep gazing at Mr Gilmorton.
‘Nothing bad, I hope, Miss Brailes?’ Lord Barkby was wondering what his friend saw in the girl, beyond a pair of large, violet-blue eyes and a shapely bosom.
‘Oh, other than you break windows and leave bloodstains on the floors, nothing at all.’ She dimpled, and cast a swift glance at Mr Gilmorton, who chuckled.
Lady Brailes blinked. ‘Break windows? You must be mistaken, Caroline.’
254‘Alas, ma’am, she is perfectly correct,’ Lord Barkby admitted. ‘However, in my defence I was not intending to break the pane. The bullet passed through the burglar and then broke the window.’
It could not be said that Lady Brailes found this very comforting.
‘And if you only did it the once, then I am sure you would be forgiven, my lord. It is persistent window-breakers who are to be deplored.’ Caroline felt almost light-headed, which was, she realised, what happened whenever she was in close proximity to Mr Gilmorton.
‘Aha, then he stands condemned, Miss Brailes.’ Mr Gilmorton shook his head in mock seriousness. ‘He broke a window in a church in Portugal.’
‘Oh dear.’
‘Be fair, Gil. I was aiming at the Frenchman in front of it.’
‘Which means either you are guilty of sacrilege or are a bad shot,’ Mr Gilmorton told him.
‘You had your share of misses. There was that goat you had to pay for when you mistook it for a tirailleur.’
‘Easy mistake to make.’ Mr Gilmorton looked unabashed. ‘And it had the advantage of making a good stew for several days.’
‘Which would not have been the case with the French soldier.’ Caroline smiled, but the smile froze as she saw the colour drain from Mr Gilmorton’s face. He swallowed hard.
‘I cannot conceive of eating a goat,’ declared Lady Brailes, oblivious to Mr Gilmorton’s distress. ‘Of course it is not unlike a sheep, and one eats mutton and lamb, but 255somehow eating goat is … un-English, like eating horses.’
‘It is actually quite palatable, ma’am, though best cooked slowly.
It is a stronger taste than lamb, but quite sweet.
Of course, when it was a choice of goat meat or no meat, it became almost delicious.
’ Lord Barkby deftly diverted the conversation.
‘There were times when we talked about good English roast beef with such longing, and the cheeses also. The Iberian cheeses are very much an acquired taste, I found.’
Caroline was still looking at Mr Gilmorton, and painfully aware that she had said something that quite overset him. She laid her gloved hand for an instant on his arm as Lord Barkby continued to talk about Spanish food.
‘I am so sorry, sir. I did not mean …’ she said, in a soft undertone.
‘Not your fault,’ he managed, in barely more than a mumble. ‘Cannot explain …’
‘Nor need you try. Forgive me.’ She looked stricken. ‘I let my silly tongue run away with me.’
Had he not been clawing his way back to equilibrium he could have said that he would forgive her anything, but instead, he just shook his head, and gave the smallest of twisted smiles.
Caroline bit her lip, and fought back tears.
She ought not to have let herself run on and try to be clever, just because bantering conversation with Mr Gilmorton was so appealing. She had ruined everything.
With Mr Gilmorton and Caroline lost in their own mental anguish, and Lord Barkby now receiving Lady Brailes’ thoughts upon cheese, mice and thence the inability of any cat they had possessed to catch one of the rodents, 256Louisa Dembleby’s arrival, with Miss Newent at her side, quite surprised the quartet.
‘Good morning. I trust we find you all in good spirits?’ Louisa smiled, but as Mr Gilmorton and Caroline turned to face her fully, she realised that this was an unfortunate remark.
‘Why yes,’ lied Mr Gilmorton, making his bow to the two ladies. ‘Miss Newent, what a very fetching hat.’
Lydia Newent lowered her eyes. She was torn between finding Mr Gilmorton a very pleasant companion, always eager to please, and the knowledge, as conveyed to her by Lord Orlando, that he was making every effort to keep them from enjoying even the most fleeting moments alone together.
She could not quite bring herself to think of him as a ‘bad man’ for this, but knew him to be both in error and a barrier to her happiness.
She did not, however, see him in any way as a rival to Lord Orlando, and would have laughed at the suggestion.
Caroline Brailes, so fully aware of her own shortcomings when it came to looks, convinced herself that he was, if not enamoured, at least making an effort to appeal to the beautiful Miss Newent.
She could not blame him, since all men liked ladies to be beautiful and ethereal, not plain, plump and pragmatic, which was as her brother described her, with at least accurate alliteration.
He had said it at the end of her first year of being out in grown-up society, and for all that she found her brother blinkered and foolish at times, Caroline admitted that in this case he was correct.
Caroline did not wish she were vapid and silly, but she did wish that she might have one tenth of Lydia Newent’s 257beauty.
It would have stunned her if she had known that Mr Gilmorton liked her pragmatism, but saw her as neither plain nor plump, even though he knew she was not in the common style.
Of course, had he been of short stature, and pudding-faced, Caroline could have comprehended him finding her not unattractive, but he was tall, lithely built and possessed of fine features.
How could so handsome a man find her to his taste?
She conceded that he was charming to her, and friendly, but that was being kind, and no doubt he felt brotherly towards her.
‘Lydia, I wish to present to you Major Lord Barkby, who is a neighbour of mine at Elliston Court … and a friend also.’ Louisa added the last part with the slightest hesitation, and did not look him fully in the eye. ‘Lord Barkby, may I present Miss Lydia Newent.’
‘Miss Newent, your servant. I will make no comment upon your hat, since I have been beaten to it by Mr Gilmorton here.’ Lord Barkby smiled at Miss Newent, but her own smile became rather fixed as she noted his gloved hand. The more she desired not to stare, the more she felt a compulsion to do so.
‘Lord Barkby was severely wounded last year in Spain, Lydia, but it has not prevented him from performing sterling service in defending my home from burglars. He is also one of Emily’s best friends, and the person to whom she refers if she wishes any of her toy animals to be named.
’ Louisa wished Lydia were not quite so obvious in her horror.
‘Unfair, Lady Dembleby, to remind me of that when I am to visit Miss Emily for the purpose of seeing her ark. 258Tell me now, are there very many animals?’ Lord Barkby, his colour only slightly raised, pretended he had not noticed Miss Newent’s reaction.
‘I think it only fair to warn you, my lord, that there are a considerable number, including elephants, tigers, hippopotamuses, deer, dogs and some rather bizarre birds of indeterminate, if not mythological, species.’
‘My heart sinks. Can everyone begin thinking of names beginning with the required letters?’
‘But, sir, that would be cheating.’ Louisa controlled her smile, but her eyes danced. ‘Think how proud you will be when you do it all yourself.’
‘I am thinking rather that I will need to go and lie down in a darkened room for an hour for my head to recover.’ He pulled a face.
‘He does not mean a word of it, Lady Dembleby.’ Mr Gilmorton’s pallor had passed. ‘He has been anticipating his attendance upon your daughter with positive glee all morning.’
‘“Glee”?’ Lord Barkby regarded his friend quizzically.
‘A high level of eager pleasure, then,’ amended Mr Gilmorton, ‘and with good reason. Miss Emily is a perfect delight.’
‘I know, you can come with me,’ declared Lord Barkby. ‘That way you too can share in the pleasure.’
‘Can think of nothing better, my dear fellow, but I am being sent upon an important errand for my grandmama.’
‘You are?’
‘Indeed yes. She has a need for … tooth powder. Ran out this morning and nothing for it but that I go and 259procure some for her.’ Mr Gilmorton’s expression was quite comical, and Miss Newent had to smother a giggle.
‘You are too droll, sir,’ she murmured, and Caroline Brailes flinched, hearing something faintly derogatory in the words though nothing was intended.
Mr Gilmorton was not looking at her, but he was intensely aware of her, and caught the movement out of the corner of his eye.
He shot a glance at her, questioning. For a fraction of a moment their eyes met, and he saw what she would have tried to conceal: a blend of annoyance, pain, jealousy, but most of all tenderness.
He held his breath, but she lowered her gaze and the moment was lost. Had he seen what he longed for, or was he imagining it, because he desired it so much?
‘If you do not wish to face Emily …’ Louisa wondered if it was fair to expose Lord Barkby to so much ‘Emilyness’.