Lady Elizabeth's Comet (18 page)

"I see. And she now prefers Wharton to either of us. Very lowering."

"Lowering! She's moon-mad," Willoughby exclaimed.

"Moon-mad and damned inconvenient to you," Clanross rejoined, but his tone was mild.
"What do you propose, Elizabeth?"

"Cecilia is of age, so you're under no obligation to her at all. Nor to Willoughby. Let
Cecilia marry Charles, and Willoughby hold household."

Willoughby let out an anguished bleat.

"Of course, you could advance him the ten thousand pounds at suitable interest. His
estate is well managed. I daresay he could repay you in twenty years or so."

Willoughby turned green.

"You could retire to the country, Willoughby, or let the house and live on the
Continent."

Clanross said slowly, "Then the only barrier to this alliance is Gore's dependence on his
sister to tow him out of the River Tick?"

"I think so."

That was too much for Willoughby's dignity. "Dash it, Liz. Wharton's nothing but a
country surgeon."

"He's a gentleman. He owns a handsome house and has a reputation for probity. If
Cecilia returns his regard I see no reasonable objection you can make. She is one-and-twenty.
Charles loves her and will protect her. Let the child go, Willoughby. If you do not," I added, very
sweetly, "I'll make you the laughingstock of the Ton."

"Elizabeth!" Willoughby's look would have melted stone.

I glanced at Clanross. He had subsided with fair grace onto one of the upright chairs and
now regarded me with a mixture of amusement, embarrassment, and something else. "Do I take
it you weren't a party to this antiquated stratagem?" Clanross asked.

I flushed to the roots of my being.

"I see you weren't."

"What's this?" Willoughby looked from Clanross to me and back.

"Lady Elizabeth told me before you came that your sister would make me an excellent
countess." I fear Clanross was enjoying himself.

"But..."

"Prescience," Clanross said kindly. "I thought she was joking."

"I was!"

He smiled at me, and I longed to shake him. Prudence compelled me to bite my tongue
instead. He was taking it all in better part than Willoughby had any right to expect. Or I.

"What do you mean to do, Clanross?"

"Oh, I daresay Gore and I can come to some arrangement. As you pointed out to me on
another occasion, it's a duty of earls to be propping up their insolvent connexions."

I winced. Nor did I look at Willoughby.

"My father ruined himself at rather a lower tariff, of course."

"Prices have risen," I murmured.

Clanross grinned. "A palpable hit."

I stood up. "I'll leave you to it then, gentlemen. Clanross..." Both men rose.
Willoughby's poise was beginning to return. I hoped Clanross would give him a good set down. I
almost said so. Instead, I held out my hand to Clanross.

"Thank you."

He raised it lightly to his lips. "You have only to command, ma'am."

I flushed again. "I don't command, Clanross, and I do thank you. Oh. Make Willoughby
hand over Cecilia's portion. There's no reason Charles should have to pay for Willoughby's
follies." I smiled ruefully. "And that does sound like a command."

As I returned to the Dower House alone, I reflected that Clanross had repaid my earlier
aspersions on his magnanimity in spades.

* * * *

Bevis, in high gig, called me out of the breakfast room next morning. "My dear Liz, I
present Willoughby's compliments. He is gone up to Town."

"Already? It's not ten o'clock."

"Already."

I smiled. "And without bidding me farewell."

"I daresay he felt his new-won composure would crack under your knowing eye."

"Lord, what a coil." My mood shifted. "I trust Clanross is not out of reason angry."

Bevis hooted. "Angry? I ain't seen Tom so amused since he found the quartermaster had
billeted his company in a nunnery."

"I hope the nuns locked themselves in."

"Tom locked them in. It's a wonder he wasn't assassinated by his men. Or the nuns. Very
lively, Portuguese nuns. Fortunately, we moved on next morning."

"Mercy. Pray do not enlighten me further." I returned to the point. "It is excessively
good-natured in Clanross to frank Willoughby."

"I think so, too. When I consider Dunarvon shipped me off to the slaughter for
less..."

"Less than ten thousand pounds?"

He looked sheepish. "Perhaps a bit more, now I think of it. But
my
expectations
was real."

I was still troubled and tried, rather gropingly, to say so.

Bevis shook his head. "Upon my word, Liz, Tom ain't a fool. Willoughby has a dashed
poisonous tongue, and you may imagine the stories he'd put about if Tom didn't settle his
debts."

"Did you tell Clanross that?"

"Unnecessary, my dear. It was all fixed upon before I rode back from Briarlea. I doubt
I'd know of it at all if Willoughby hadn't blabbed. Tom has strict notions of privacy."

"I see," I said rather blankly. "And Willoughby is content?"

"He don't like Cecilia's marriage, but he's merry as a grig otherwise. Great plans for
Newmarket. And Brighton."

I groaned.

"Don't look so anxious, Lizzie. Willoughby will go on as he did before your papa's
death, troubling nobody but his tailor. No more high flights. I fancy he's learned his lesson."

"I hope so." I had my doubts.

"You ain't disturbed about the money?" Bevis's eyes widened.

I said crossly, "It is a rather large sum."

"The estate will bear it."

"I don't doubt that," I retorted. "Merely, I had second thoughts as to whether Clanross
ought to bear it."

At that Bevis did laugh. "My dear, you must know Tom regards it all as if he were
accountable for regimental funds."

"I beg your pardon?"

Bevis said patiently, "He don't think of the Conway fortune as belonging to him. Merely,
it's accounts to be kept and funds dispersed and a very good thing if the books balance, but
nothing to do with him."

I was shocked by that.

Bevis frowned. "Would you expect otherwise?"

"No. I don't know." I groped for what was troubling me. "Has Clanross no sense at all of
what is owing to his name? He's the earl, not a glorified bookkeeper. Only consider the Brecon
picture gallery," I burst out. "The Holbein, the Rubenses, the Corregios, Lawrence's portrait of
Papa. And grandpapa's collection of Italian marbles and Papa's snuffboxes and the porcelains in
the Cavendish Square house..."

"You don't really know Tom at all, do you? He once told me that he lost a miniature of
his mother, one of those gewgaws set in pearls, in the Corunna retreat. After that he made a point
never to own anything that mattered."

I drew a breath.

Bevis went on, still frowning, "Can't you see why years of gypsying about from one
place to another would lead him to travel light? He really don't care much for
things,
Liz. I'm sorry if it upsets you, but there it is." He added, as an afterthought, "Nor money
either, except as a convenience. Lord, don't look so worried. He may not turn out a famous
collector like your grandpapa, but he'll see that the marbles and whatnots are kept properly
dusted."

"Damn the marbles." I bit my lip. "I beg your pardon, Bevis. Was it Papa's fault that
Clanross feels that way?"

"Dash it, Elizabeth, Tom ain't a criminal." Bevis was genuinely angry.

"I don't mean that. I mean, he doesn't seem to take any pride in Brecon or Rosnevin or
the Lothian estates...or the Family."

Bevis said tartly, "I should think his behaviour toward Willoughby indicates he ain't
going to throw the lot of you out in the snow. Besides, how should he have a feeling for your
family? He never saw any of you until your father's death."

I was confused and depressed, but that stung. "I can't blame Papa."

"You can't very well blame Tom, either. If he were fifteen, now, or even
five-and-twenty, he'd probably jolly well think he was in clover, coming into such an estate.
As it is--as it was, all those legal quiddities were an ugly burden to load on a man under a
death sentence. Now I don't know. I believe he's begun to find the whole situation ridiculous."

"Ridiculous!"

"Well, ain't it?"

I said ruefully, "I'll admit Willoughby is ridiculous."

Bevis looked relieved. "That's more the thing."

I recollected what had brought him to me so early. "How is Cecilia?"

"Blue as megrim, poor child. I daresay she'll perk up when Wharton shows himself. He
cut up stiff with Willoughby, I can tell you. Came practically at dawn. He wants a formal
betrothal and a big wedding in August. Mrs. Finch is already planning Cecilia's
brideclothes."

I was horrified. "Good God, she must be beside herself! I didn't even think of Alice,
Bevis."

Bevis smiled. "You'd best remember her quick, then. She'll be twittering down on you at
any moment."

My heart sank. "And Aunt Whitby. I wish Charles and Cecilia had run for the
border."

Bevis said modestly, "I daresay Lady Whitby will hold her peace."

"You didn't charm her? Oh Bevis, my dear, you are heroick!" I began to laugh. "Thank
God for the Middlesex Militia."

Bevis cocked an eyebrow. "I think you've been listening to Tom."

"From time to time."

Bevis took his leave shortly thereafter, informing me almost as an afterthought that he
meant to leave for Town in a few days. That was a facer, though the improving weather had
lately led me to spend more and more time at my telescope and less in Bevis's company. I didn't
quite know what to feel about Bevis's departure, but I knew I'd miss him. Telescope or no
telescope.

When the house party had broken up--Cecilia to Aunt Whitby, Willoughby and Bevis to
Town--things at Brecon settled into bucolic tranquillity.

The weather was uncannily clear for several weeks, so I was lost to civility. I discovered
a comet.

When I finally emerged from seclusion I was astonished to discover how much the
world had changed. Everything was in bloom. Alice had the sneezes. Miss Bluestone had
commenced a series of long, botanical forays beyond the walls with Jean and Maggie, and
Clanross was definitely mobile.

The morning after it finally clouded over I meandered out to the Dower House stables to
find Clanross smoking a seegar with my groom and giving my mare a critical once-over.

"Good morning," I said briskly. "She's too short in the leg for you."

He ground the seegar out politely. "I'd already deduced that. Which is the most lethargic
slug of the lot? That one?"

"Ah, Joybell."

He winced at the name.

"She's Maggie's. Maggie is a cautious horsewoman. Jean rides the roan. A high-stepper.
Frisky when she's not been galloped. Try Victory," I said kindly. "He's the bay in the far stall
with the very long teeth. He's about a hundred and has been known to fall asleep walking."

Clanross went to the stall and began to examine the ancient plug with obvious expertise.
His own hack was a handsome black mare who looked as if she'd last fifty miles without turning
a hair. Sims had ridden her faithfully. She was called Paloma. A joke, Sims had assured us,
breathless from bringing her under control. She was no dove and obviously would be too much
of a handful for Clanross even in his improved state.

He patted Victory on the rump and turned back to me. "It must've been Blenheim."

"What?"

"The victory our friend was named for. Put the poor beast out to pasture. We'd both fall
asleep walking."

"Charles will not approve your riding any horse." I led the way back out into the watery
April light.

"I know. He told me yesterday I might try a sedate walk round Brecon in a month. I
seem to anticipate him by about that length of time, so I thought I'd best find a mount and get
started."

I laughed. "You'll drive him to an early grave. He worries about you."

Clanross was silent for a moment. "I don't like to devil him. He's a good chap."

"But you intend to, just the same."

"Yes."

We walked along the path that leads to the lake in friendly silence. "I take it your aquatic
experiment is a success." We had not spoken of his plan to swim in the lake since the last
silt-laden waggon had creaked past my door. "Have you been at it a week now?"

"Nearly three. It seems to help, though I thought I'd sink like a cannonball at first. It was
damned cold."

"Shall you join us for dinner tomorrow night, Clanross?" Jean and Maggie would turn
fifteen the next day.

"The twins' birthday? Yes, thank you."

"I daresay they've already invited you."

"Two weeks ago. I told them the invitation had to come from you."

"Nonsense, you're too formal. After all, it's
their
birthday." I was embarrassed. I
ought to have asked him to join us sooner, but my mind had been so much on my comet I hadn't
thought. We saw him frequently, but he hadn't been to the Dower House...horrors! I stopped
dead in the path. He had not been inside my house since the brief interview with me before his
illness last winter! What must he think of me?

"What is it?"

I flushed. "You'll be thinking me very odd not to have asked you to dine sooner,
Clanross. The truth is I'm an abominable recluse. Since Willoughby and Bevis left I've been shut
up with the telescope every clear night and thinking of it when there were clouds."

"I don't think that odd. I'd do the same."

I said impulsively, "I've discovered a comet."

Clanross was the first person apart from my scientific correspondents I had told. His
silence extended painfully. I found I was holding my breath. At last I looked up at him.

He was frowning at me, an odd intent expression in his eyes. "Have you asked Bevis his
feelings about your work, Elizabeth?"

Angry tears welled in my eyes. I blinked them back. "No!"