Cry of the Peacock (17 page)

David,

What the devil is going on at home? How is it that the Summerson girl is in Town? And how is it her shame is laid at my door? I’ve seen Miss Mariana Gray, and do you know, I believe she quite despises me. She knew who I was and where I was supposed to be quite without my telling her. Do you suppose she has employed a spy?

Speaking of which, how is Abbie getting on with her maid? It’s late in occurring to me, but I caught a glimpse of a conversation on my way from the house that made me wonder if that girl isn’t aiding Ruskin in some way. Ruskin has no scruples, I think, when it comes to accomplishing his ends. And now Katherine is to come. If only she and Ruskin were not such very great friends. I do hope it won’t cause unnecessary trouble.

Write, will you? Tell me everything that has happened since I left. How is Abbie holding up? Is Ruskin gaining any ground? How is the construction progressing? I took the trouble of drawing up some tentative plans. Consequently the allotments should be twice the size they were, though I doubt Ruskin will have approved. It may make all the difference, though. Would you mind finding out?

And if you see Benderby skulking about, kick him once for me, and tell him to get lost will you? Not that I take any heed in his threats, but he’s caused me quite enough trouble for one lifetime. Neither do I think he’s had his fill of that occupation.

Write! Within the week unless you’ve forgotten how.

J.

*   *   *

David laid the letter down on the desk.

“From James?” Katherine asked him from her place at the window. “How is University going for him this time around?”

“Michaelmas term only began last week, and I’m not sure he’s been to a single lecture yet.”

“Does he ask after Abbie?” she inquired next, and rather too nonchalantly to sound convincingly disinterested.

“Why should he?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said and colored slightly.

With a look he pressed her for an answer.

“It’s just that Ruskin seems to think there may be…”

“There isn’t.” At least he hoped there was nothing between them. But why was Katherine so interested? “Has she told you there is?”

“Of course not.”

“Did you ask her?”

“I did.”

“And her answer?”

“I don’t believe she gave one. Not a proper one, at any rate.”

David was troubled by this. As much because Miss Gray had seemingly evaded the question, as because Katherine had taken it upon herself to ask it. He thought of James’ cautionary hint. He had inwardly scoffed at it upon reading it. Now he wondered in earnest.

“I do think it likely Ruskin is not without rivals,” he said and watched her response.

Slowly Katherine turned to him.

“Her lawyer friend has been snooping about,” he said.

“Lawyer friend?”

“Yes. From London.” David returned the letter to its envelope and tucked it in the lining of his jacket for safe keeping. “Perhaps the aunt sent him to be sure of her.”

“Ah yes. Yes, of course.” The crease in her brow smoothed.

“If his motives aren’t personal, though, I’ll be hanged.”

The crease returned, and with it, a companion frown. She arose and approached him. “What would make you suppose that? Surely you haven’t seen them together?”

David was unsure he ought to answer this. If Katherine’s interrogations were inspired by her own curiosity, that was one thing, but if they were  intended  for Ruskin’s ears, this information could go very badly for Miss Gray. He had to answer it though, one way or another, or raise further suspicion than was necessary, or perhaps even worthy, of the situation.

“She spoke with him briefly. I don’t think there is anything on her side.”

“On his, though? Are you quite sure?”

He answered with a knowing look. But was he certain? Well, he had eyes as well as anyone.

“And where did she speak with him? Did he find her here? Or did she meet him? Sarah was not with her, I take it.”

This presumption nearly confirmed his suspicion, and he was a little angry in consequence. “I never should have said anything about it.”

“But if—”

“Think no more of it, Katherine. Please.”

Katherine stood in silence for a moment, then returned to look out the drawing room window.

“You won’t mention what I said?” he asked her. “To anyone?”

She didn’t answer

“I hope I can trust you, Katherine.”

“What a thing to say!” she said, turning to him.

He looked at her a moment more. He ought to apologize, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He arose from the desk and joined her at the window. Without, Abbie could be seen walking arm in arm with Ruskin. She did not appear to him to be a woman in love, but rather a woman trying to be in love. Would she succeed in the endeavor? Considering all the help she was getting… “I hope you are not influencing your friend too strongly,” he said.

“Is it wrong if I wish for her to be happy? If I encourage her to try for that happiness?”

“It’s wrong if you are sharing with Ruskin the confidences you have won from her.”

Katherine reddened. “He has sought my counsel and I have given it. If he has not done enough to convince her of his regard, why should I not tell him?”

This certainly seemed logical enough, but it all sounded to him at the moment as little more than rationalization.

“If she is not of a mind to return his regard of her own accord then pressing her from all sides is likely to cause more harm than good.”

“She is sure to do so in time.”

“Then why the rush? If, as you say, she is bound to find his offer agreeable, why is it we are all shoving her into his arms?”

“You exaggerate.”

“It seems to me the exaggeration is on the side of those who want, and apparently quite desperately, for this to come off. Do you realize what most landed and titled people would say if their eldest son formed an attachment to someone so significantly below them as Miss Gray? If she wants him, the matter will take care of itself. If she does not, then it’s all the better for everyone.”

“I don’t understand you, David. You’re so exceedingly ungenerous toward her. Heaven knows she’s done nothing to deserve your censure. You make all our work so much harder, don’t you see? Her reservation is only for fearing what people will think, that they will disapprove. I regret to find she is justified in her fears, but I had not expected her opposition to be so close to home. I had not expected it of you, at any rate.”

“I don’t like this, Katherine. There is another name for the sort of assistance you are providing Ruskin. Some might call it spying. I would at least call it disloyalty.”

There were suddenly tears in her eyes. “So this new tendency of yours to suspect everyone of unholy intentions now includes me! That should make a happy start to our life together! What
is
your objection? You’ve not yet explained it in any way that I can understand. Tell me why you detest her so?”

“I never said I detested her, Katherine. I only said she should not be here.”

“Tell me why?” she asked more quietly now.

To explain it to her was impossible, for it meant understanding it himself, and he was not ready to examine his own motives quite so closely. If Katherine had any sense, she would drop the matter and let it be.

She was not likely to do it, however, and so he excused himself to go to his own room, where he withdrew the letter and read it again. A reply was in order but there was no way to do it. The questions James had asked, the suspicions he had raised, had not yet been answered. And there were others too, equally pressing, and gaining in number with each passing day. But how to find the answers to those things James wished to know? How to find out what he himself felt it necessary to learn?

*   *   *

His first opportunity came as the family was sitting together after dinner that evening. David took a seat and watched as the two young women chatted and laughed together. It was a charming scene. He only regretted that the pleasure they gave each other had to be tainted by Ruskin’s meddling.

It was then he looked to his brother. The plans for the new cottages had been spread out upon a table. David arose to see them for himself.

“James drew them up, I believe,” he said as offhandedly as he could manage.

“Yes,” Sir Nicholas answered. “And he’s done a bang up job of it, too. Saved me no end of time and trouble, I’ll tell you.”

“They are larger, I see. Four rooms instead of just the two. That is an improvement, indeed.”

“We thought it would be more conducive to wholesome family life,” his father answered.

“And the allotments? They are bigger as well, I see.”

Ruskin bent low to look more closely. He appeared predictably unpleased by the revelation.

“Perhaps it’s a gesture of good will,” David said, attempting to placate him. “Considering the trouble we are asking them to take by moving them to the very farthest corner of the estate.”

Ruskin, however, was not listening. It seemed he had lit upon an idea. “Improved living quarters…more rooms…larger allotments… “ He looked at his father. “As we’re so short on funds for this project, why is it we have not considered charging higher rent?”

“I think that would be a serious mistake,” David said. “Especially considering they don’t want to be moving in the first place.”

His father remained quiet, apparently deep in thought, but was it David’s words or Ruskin’s that had turned him so contemplative?

“It’s curious that you chose to build them on Whiteheath land,” David observed now.

“Why should we not?” Ruskin answered. “It’s ours, after all.”

“But that doesn’t answer the question. Why there? And why now, when we’ve never done anything with it before? It’s hardly convenient, after all.”

A look was exchanged between Ruskin and his father that made David certain that the answer was not one they wished to share.

“This trip to London has come at a good time, I think,” Sir Nicholas said as he put away the plans, and with it David’s question. “Your mind has been idle for too long. It’ll be good for you to have something to apply it to.”

“Meaning?”

“It’s time you accepted the position Lord Barnwell has offered you,” Sir Nicholas said, and without another word, turned to leave the room. Ruskin arose to follow, but David detained him in the hallway.

“Katherine has brought it to my attention that certain confidences given her by a particular friend of hers have subsequently been shared with you.”

Ruskin’s gaze shifted toward the drawing room door.

“Her intentions are well meaning, I understand that, but what are yours?”

“Mine?”

“You have engaged Miss Gray’s maid similarly, I believe.”

Ruskin took hold of his right lapel, his typical stance when he was feeling defensive. Or superior. “What is it to you?”

“I simply wondered how it is you can rationalize having Miss Gray shadowed by the very person who is meant to ensure her comfort and protection? Or to betray her by manipulating those she trusts into sharing her confidences?”

“I’ve done nothing wrong. If Katherine is good enough to counsel with me, then why shouldn’t I listen to her?”

“And what of the maid?”

“Damn it, David! This is none of your business. You have no right to counsel me as to how to conduct my affairs!”

“If you intend to use me and mine as tools in your underhanded machinations, I bloody well do have a right!”

“By yours, I assume you mean Katherine.”

“I do.”

“As you’re not yet formally engaged, perhaps you have less right to speak for her than you think.”

“Yet you have the right to manipulate all around you, do you? To manipulate Katherine? To manipulate Miss Gray? This isn’t honorable of you, Ruskin.”

“It’s honor that concerns you, is it?”

“Perhaps it is.”

Ruskin took a step closer. “Then you’d best start being more supportive. If this doesn’t come off, if, after all, she decides she won’t have me, the dishonor to us all will be greater than you can possibly imagine.”

David stood back and examined his brother. “Would you mind telling me just exactly what you mean by that?”

Ruskin didn’t answer, but turned from the room, leaving David to stand staring after him.

David laid the letter down on the desk.