Chapter Five
Pansy glanced warily at her papa. She was hoping to get him off the subject of “the scuffle between the Plantagenets,” as it was precisely what caused the hostility between Lord Burkhart and Mr. Lelander.
“With all due respect, Lord Mulholland,” Lord Burkhart said, “it was not so much a scuffle as it was the rightful claim of the Yorkist cause.”
The viscount waved his hands dismissively.
“The problem with the Plantagenets was too many sons. I always say, keep it to one. Nobody knows what to do with second sons and then look what happens when there is a throne involved. There are different lines of descent, cousins everywhere. It’s a bad business. ”
“The Tudors, though, ushered in a time of prosperity to England,” Mr. Lelander said.
“And six dead wives,” Lord Burkhart said. “An entirely new approach to marriage.”
“Some of them died from natural causes,” Mr. Lelander said defiantly.
“But not all of them,” Lord Burkhart said grimly.
“Catherine Parr and Anne of Cleves were perfectly fine!” Mr. Lelander said.
“Though they both came very close to disaster, didn’t they?”
“Nonsense.”
“Hah! They’re still arguing about the whole thing,” the viscount said, seeming most amused. “Chemsworth Hall had high walls, a moat, and murder holes, and put sentries on the ramparts. Then we kept out of it as much as possible. Did we care who finally prevailed? Not really.”
Both Lord Burkhart and Mr. Lelander looked to the viscount in astonishment, as if it were inconceivable that a lord of England was not either a Lancastrian or a Yorkist at heart.
“Well,” the viscount said, “those particular lunatics are all dead now, so what matter? Ah, here we are.” The footmen were laying the first course and Lord Mulholland looked at it approvingly.
“Fricasseed chicken. Mr. Moreau knows it is my favorite. Very good fellow. Careful, though, he’ll walk off if he’s sufficiently aggravated. ”
Pansy could see very well that her father’s opinion that the Roses War was nonsense caused by too many sons was not at all convincing to Lord Burkhart or Mr. Lelander.
Lord Burkhart finished his wine and Jimmy hurried to refill his glass, while Johnny kept track of the inroads Mr. Lelander was making on the same across the table.
She and Poppy exchanged wide-eyed glances.
“Alls well that ends well, eh?” Lord Smythesdon said. He said it in a hopeful tone that did not engender any jollity from the two discomfited gentlemen.
“It is my opinion,” Violet said, “that the fight for the throne might have gone either way, as in fact it did several times. The winds of fate made the final decision at the Battle of Bosworth.”
“The winds of fate?” Lord Burkhart murmured next to her.
“Am I allowed to say anything?” Teddy asked.
“Don’t say anything,” Bertie advised.
“Of course you may say something, my love,” Maribelle said.
Teddy nodded, appearing to take his mother’s advice over Bertie’s. “Miss Millthorpe won’t tell me what happened to all the wives. The six wives, I mean. She made me remember their names and the order of them. But then I said, why so many of them? She said, never mind that.”
“Unfortunate circumstances,” Mr. Lelander said.
“Yes, indeed,” Lord Burkhart said, “meeting with an ax certainly is unfortunate.”
Teddy shivered and seemed delighted to hear it. “An ax. I knew it was something like that.” He paused and then said softly, “Does that still happen? That a king chases round the queen with an ax?”
“Certainly not,” Maribelle said, clearly alarmed by the picture being painted by her young son. “Now Teddy, why do not you tell everybody about your new pony?”
“Oh yes, Excelsior. He is terrific. He’s almost stopped trying to throw me off.”
This kicked off a debate between Bertie and Teddy, as Bertie was on the verge of getting his own horse, which he called “proper manly-sized.”
Lord Burkhart appeared pensive as Teddy and Bertie rattled on with their childish debate about Excelsior and any future horse coming on the scene.
“Is it really so impossible to overcome,” she asked him. “This, this, argument about ancient history?”
“It might be overcome, if the men of Lancashire were not so persistent with their delusions of superiority. Look at him over there, prettily dressed and thinking he’s above all the world. I hold rank over that mister, and yet he still thinks he is superior. It is intolerable.”
Pansy sighed. Loudly, she supposed, as Lord Burkhart noted it.
“However, I do not wish to bring any of this fight to Chemsworth,” he said. “Perhaps we could speak of other things. For example, these two young gentlemen are having a spirited debate about horses. Do you ride, Miss Granger?”
“Do call me Miss Pansy. I am Miss Granger, as I am the oldest by an hour, but if I were to take on the moniker, it would be somehow putting myself ahead of Poppy, which I would not like to do. And yes, I adore riding. My horse, Zephyr, will jump any fence she can see.”
“There must be much pleasant riding in this neighborhood.”
“There are some excellent routes, particularly in the direction of Pendleton Park. And then sometimes I join my papa’s hunt.”
“You foxhunt?” Lord Burkhart asked in surprise.
“Somewhat,” Pansy admitted. “I like the riding over hill and dale part of it. But if it seems as if we might get a fox, I leave with a groom and go straight to Lookout Hill, where we always gather afterward. Childish, I know, but I do not like that part of it.”
Lord Burkhart looked thoughtful. “Probably less childish than indicative of a women’s soft heart. Taking foxes is a necessary business though.”
“I know it is necessary. Every time I pass our chickens I think I have betrayed them over it.”
Lord Burkhart laughed. “Fortunately, I do not think chickens think very deeply about anything.”
Pansy laughed too. “No, I suppose they do not. We once found one out of the coop and roosting in the open, in view of any fox who cared to come by. I thought, now what in the world is she thinking, but I suppose she was not thinking at all.”
“If the viscount can be prevailed upon to lend me a horse, perhaps you would lead me on one of your routes?”
This was very encouraging; he wished to ride out with her.
She said, “My papa will not mind. I could ask Lord Smythesdon to accompany us, as Henry is always out with my father and the steward. We could go to Pendleton Park to visit my sister and Mr. Weston. They have a stable that is of some renown. As well, they have a billiards room the gentlemen all seem to enjoy.”
“It sounds an excellent plan. I imagine you look very dashing in a habit.”
Pansy was certain she blushed over the compliment, though she was in general against showing pink cheeks to all the world. “I cannot say whether I do, but I can say I have recently had a new one made and it is a glorious bottle-green worsted wool with brass buttons.”
“I am sure it is very fetching.”
“All I say,” Bertie said loudly, interrupting their conversation, “is that my horse will be bigger than Excelsior because I am older and taller. I am more grown.”
And so went on the one-upmanship between Bertie and Freddy until the viscountess gave both of them very withering looks. They might be two argumentative children determined to gain their point, but nobody in the world could stand up to Elspeth Granger’s withering looks.
Or as the viscount said, “There now, boys, your grandmama has silenced you without saying a word. She is very good at it.”
Burkhart was not certain he’d ever experienced a situation that was both thrilling and enraging at the same time.
On the one side, Pansy Granger was a delight.
He had found a charm to her riding with the hunt, only to peel off when the hunt got close to a fox. It was daring and feminine at once.
She was very pretty too. Though she might have a twin, upon further examination they did seem different from one another.
Miss Pansy had more defined features, while Miss Poppy’s were more rounded.
Miss Pansy’s mode of dress seemed richer.
Miss Poppy appeared to favor pastels, which he did not particularly care for, as they could so easily appear insipid.
In essence, Miss Pansy struck him as more elegant.
He was very much looking forward to riding out with the lady.
It seemed obvious enough that he’d been invited to the house on the chance that there might be interest found between him and one of the Granger ladies.
Hemmings writing him a letter out of nowhere because he’d somehow been remiss had been a ruse.
The Grangers did not attend the season in Town and must approach the settlement of daughters somewhat differently.
It would not surprise him if there were other gentlemen set to arrive, or perhaps other gentlemen had already been here, but it had come to naught.
Burkhart found he did not at all mind the trickery to lure him to Chemsworth Hall. He was perfectly content to have been tricked.
He minded Lelander’s presence, though. Superior, annoying, touching his barrel knot like it was some kind of accomplishment, Lelander.
If Burkart could find anything positive in that rogue’s presence, it was that Lelander had failed to pretty-up the heinous actions of his precious Tudors.
He’d sounded quite ridiculous shouting, “Some of them died from natural causes!” It would be a hilarious story to relay to his father when he went home.
The dinner had gone on with Burkhart mostly being able to ignore the annoying gentleman across the table and spending most of his time talking to Miss Pansy. It turned out they were both wild for India Pickle. It was further confirmed that anything with a vinegar base was approved of.
Neither of them had much interest in reading an endless number of books. Newspapers and periodicals were thought sufficient. He liked the political pages and The Gentleman’s Magazine, while she liked the society pages and Ackermann’s Repository. The Morning Post was the newspaper reached for first.