Chapter 11
A Confrontation
It was a struggle between propriety and vanity; but vanity got the better …
Jane Austen, Persuasion
“It is not your home, sir,” drawled Sir Anthony.
His face had gone pale, but his tone remained as it had been—bland and a little bored.
He did not, however, make any move to step closer to Admiral Walsingham.
Instead, he raised his quizzing glass, as if it could act as a shield between himself and the intruder.
“It is my house—nay, it is my ancestral home—which I was persuaded to lend to you, and that much against my better judgment. Now, by your conduct, I see that I was right to hesitate.”
“What is it you are suggesting, sir?” demanded the admiral.
“That you have violated the terms of our agreement, sir,” replied Sir Anthony.
“In a most underhanded and ungentlemanly fashion. I was assured—repeatedly assured—that you and your wife were childless. And yet what do I hear now?” Sir Anthony drew himself up with self-righteous dignity.
“There’s a boy—a most rambunctious and uncontrollable boy—running riot over my grounds and wrecking heaven knows what sort of havoc in the house that has been home to the Kinsdale line for generations! ”
In her dealings with the haut ton, Rosalind had witnessed many well-bred people taking offense over entirely trivial matters. This, however, was beyond anything in her experience. Sir Anthony’s declaration was so aggrieved, but stated offense so small, Rosalind found it hard not to gape at him.
“That boy is my nephew, sir,” said the admiral. “And—”
“And the house is my house,” interrupted Sir Anthony.
The admiral set his jaw. “I was warned,” he growled. “I was told Sir Anthony is vain, he is capricious. He has unending pride in his family but no care of his reputation, never mind that of his daughters. I was warned to have no dealings with him because he is a fool!”
Adam was holding himself very still. Rosalind recognized that particular alertness in him. He was watching the admiral, watching Sir Anthony, watching Devon, waiting to see which of the men would move first, and getting ready for whatever they might do.
Sir Anthony’s pale face flushed red. “You, sir!” he cried, his voice high and thin with anger, and not a little fear. “You may remove yourself, your wife, and whatever urchins you have brought with you, back to Liverpool or Plymouth or wherever it is the navy skulks about these days.”
“I shall remove you to a court of law!” bellowed the admiral. “I have been to the stables, sir, I know the game you’re playing! You should be ashamed, sir!”
Stables?
But any reply Sir Anthony meant to make was interrupted by a peal of laughter.
“Oh dear!” Mrs. Lynn cried. “Oh, I am sorry.” She pressed a flowing silk kerchief against her cheeks, and her eyes.
“But truly, there is nothing more amusing than two gentlemen quarreling before dinner, do you not find, Mrs. Rutherford?” She winked at Rosalind.
“Especially when it is over some silly misunderstanding.”
The admiral drew himself up even taller.
Mrs. Lynn did not seem to notice this at all.
Rather, she glided forward, slipping neatly past both Adam and Devon.
“Now, Admiral Walsingham, you will understand you have arrived at a most awkward moment.” She laid her hand delicately on the admiral’s blue sleeve.
“I am sure that was entirely unintentional. The navy, after all, is famed for its punctuality, and its foresight. But under the circumstances, you will, I’m sure, accept Sir Anthony’s apology for not being able to attend to your business immediately; which I know would be his preference as well as yours!
” She beamed at Sir Anthony. That gentleman looked quite ready to give his opinion on the matter, but she did not leave him room to speak.
“I also know that you will be happy to accept Sir Anthony’s promise that his man of affairs will wait on you first thing tomorrow—” She stopped, pressing her kerchief against her mouth with an air of pretty confusion “Oh! I should not say such a thing to a naval man! Your idea of ‘first thing’ is sure to be quite different from that of us lazy landlubbers!” She laughed again.
“Shall we say ten o’clock, Sir Anthony?” She turned to him briefly, and then turned back to the admiral, just exactly as if she had received a response.
“Yes. Ten o’clock. Matters may be fully explained then.
I’m certain it will be discovered that Admiral Walsingham’s dear nephew is only visiting, and that it was his urgent concern that there should be no misapprehensions between you that brought him here this evening.
Naturally, had you two gentlemen been able to behave as you ought, we would have learned that his only desire was to promise he would stand the cost of any trifling damage the precocious child might inflict during his brief stay.
Is that not the case, Admiral?” She blinked up at him.
Now Rosalind saw the resemblance to Miss Smith clearly. One of them had very obviously learned that expression of lovely innocence from the other.
But the admiral was not looking at Mrs. Lynn. He was looking past Devon’s shoulder, at herself, and the Kinsdale sisters who had all clustered closely together. But exactly what he was looking for, or what he saw, Rosalind could not tell.
Despite this, Admiral Walsingham seemed to have heard, and understood Mrs. Lynn’s words.
“Yes,” he said curtly. “Yes, that was it.”
Mrs. Lynn laughed again. “I must say, Admiral, a note would have done just as well, but I know that none of us can fault the navy for taking direct action to set matters right!” She beamed up at him. “You will, I hope, give my best regards to Mrs. Walsingham. Is she in town with you?”
“No, she stayed behind. I had no wish to expose her to this … unpleasant business, or to the fact that when we agreed to take Kinsdale House, we were misled as to the conditions, and the reasons.”
Sir Anthony flushed more deeply and was ready to make a fresh angry retort, but once again Mrs. Lynn gave him no time.
“Well, perhaps you will be so good as to carry a letter to her from me? I will send it by Sir Anthony’s man tomorrow.”
It was an exquisitely discreet dismissal, and delivered as lightly as the rest of Mrs. Lynn’s remarks.
But something had changed. There was something brittle under the words.
Rosalind watched the admiral consider whether to take further exception to this off-hand treatment, but instead, he squared his shoulders, and bowed.
“Your servant, ma’am,” he said. But then he looked over her head, again, toward the knot of silent, disconcerted Kinsdales.
“Sir Anthony, I look forward to meeting with your man. But I promise you, I will not spare him my opinion, nor will I conceal what I have learned. Neither am I afraid to stand up in a court of law in defense of my rights. A man who cries so loudly over his possessions and yet takes so little care of his reputation—or that of his family—sir, is not one who deserves any consideration.”
He bowed again to the full company, and took his leave. The footman hurried after him, possibly to make sure he really did leave the house.
“Insufferable man!” Sir Anthony puffed out his chest. “Does he have any idea whom he is addressing? I have condescended to allow him the use of the Kinsdales’ ancestral home, and this is how I am spoken to!”
“Why, Sir Anthony!” cried Mrs. Lynn. “I am surprised at you! To allow yourself to become so agitated over such a trifle! Come, sir.” She turned to the sideboard and poured out a fresh glass of the sherry.
“I must insist that you take this glass and calm yourself. Otherwise you will be unable to greet our guests this evening with that esprit they all expect from Sir Anthony Kinsdale.” She handed him the sherry with the air of a nurse giving a child their medicine, and Sir Anthony drank it much in that manner.
“There!” Mrs. Lynn took the glass and set it aside.
“Now, we shall have no more unpleasantness. I banish it all entirely.” She waved her hands in a grand gesture.
“Look, here is Perkins to tell us supper is ready. Lord Casselmaine, will you kindly escort Mrs. Rutherford in? Mr. Rutherford, will you please escort Clara?” The rules of the dining room declared that husbands and wives did not walk in together, and Mrs. Lynn seemed prepared to take advantage of this.
“Sir Anthony, you have no objection to my arm, I hope?” She threaded her arm through his. “Thank you.”
It was an extraordinary display of social expertise. Rosalind had seldom seen anything like it. She was taking Devon’s arm, but her gaze shifted to Adam.
That was very neatly done. His expression told her.
Most impressive. Rosalind let her eyes flicker to signal her agreement. She wondered if Adam noticed what Mrs. Lynn had not done.
Mrs. Lynn had managed to reassure both men, and smooth over the disagreement about the house, and the child. She had not, however, said one word about the admiral’s mention of the stables, or that he felt sure Sir Anthony was playing some game.
Where there’s betting, there’s cheating, Adam had said.
As Devon led her into the baroque dining room, Rosalind found herself noting the expressions of Clara and her sisters. Clara looked resigned. Elizabeth frowned, clearly concerned, and possibly a little afraid.
But it was Cynthia who truly drew Rosalind’s attention. Her face had gone dead white and her eyes were entirely stunned. Indeed, the youngest Kinsdale sister looked as if she’d been dealt a severe and most unexpected blow.