Joan Smith: Delsie

“Yes, it is a pity, but what is to be done?”

“Do you think it is too late for her to have him yet? She’s had a year of pitting herself against those rowdy students. I wonder if she wouldn’t take him now, where she turned him off before.”

“He’s gone straight downhill the last year. If she refused him when he was relatively sober, I cannot think she’ll marry a drunkard.”

“If he hasn’t long to live, as the doctor thinks… And really, you know, he is as well as bedridden. It would be a marriage in name only. She would be more nurse than wife. She might be happy to exchange six months’ work as a nurse, followed by a life as a respectable widow in fairly easy circumstances, for the future she now has, eking out a living as a teacher. She’d be a good mother for Roberta. If Grayshott married her, he would make her the child’s guardian, one must suppose. Roberta would live with her and not Clancy. It might be worth putting it to her in that light, Max. It would save a long and costly court battle for Roberta. There is no saying we’d ever win the case either. Clancy is a ramshackle old fellow, but he wouldn’t beat the child, or anything of that sort. It is only that she would grow up unmannered, in an extremely second-rate household, and marry some scoundrel…”

“Would she be better off with the schoolteacher in that respect? That woman might be anyone, for all we know. She is hand in glove with Miss Frisk and that set. A third-rate household, if ever there was one.”

“Good gracious, I didn’t mean Bobbie would go to live with her at Miss Frisk’s place. They’d both stay at Andrew’s cottage, right under our noses, and we would see to the hiring of help for the teacher and so on. In any case, from what I hear, the Sommers girl is from a good family. A connection of Strothingham on the mother’s side.”

“She cannot be connected to Strothingham or she would not be living as she does, in rented rooms, and teaching school. She’s invented the story to try to nab herself a genteel husband.”

“I don’t know about that. She was in no hurry to nab Andrew, was she? The connection cannot be close, I suppose, but she is at least a gentlewoman. Miss Frisk tells me she attended a seminary, and can speak French and play the pianoforte-has all the accomplishments of a lady.”

“Miss Frisk, of course, would be an excellent judge of such matters!” deVigne said with a sardonic curl of his lips.

“She knows the girl is above herself, at least. You cannot deny the influence would be morally good. One never sees Miss Sommers anywhere except at church and the lending library.”

Driven to despair, deVigne allowed, with great reluctance, “It might be worth a try. But are we able to get Andrew sobered up and made presentable to go calling on her? For that matter, is he out of his bed at all these days? I haven’t seen him outside the cottage for weeks.”

“Lord, I hadn’t thought of Andrew going in person to court her. His looks would be enough to disgust her, to see him run completely to seed.”

“She’s bound to see him if she agrees to marry him.”

“You go and put it to her. Explain the situation. He is ill, dying in fact. Fill my glass, will you, Max? I come to rival Andrew in my drinking, but at my age it can hardly matter. Delicious sherry.” She sipped carefully, then settled back to continue the discussion. “Miss Sommers will tend to his deathbed, then be Roberta’s stepmother, living at the Cottage. Much better than wearing herself to a thread at the school. We would have to make some settlement on her as an added bribe-a few thousand pounds would be enough.”

“I’ve never even met the girl. How could I put such a proposition to her? She looks a perfect little nun, mincing up the aisle on Sunday in those black gowns and plain round bonnets. You would be the more proper person to approach her, Jane. The nature of the arrangements would come more easily from a woman-the fact that it would be a marriage in name only, and so on.”

“Use your head, Max! Your position as lord of the village must exert some influence. People are accustomed to doing as you wish.”

“Miss Sommers is not. I’ve never had a thing to do with her.”

“Still, your reputation-the very fact of your calling in person-would speak for the plan. You could use a little charm too, you know. It wouldn’t kill you to smile at her, for instance.”

“What, lead her to believe I have an eye on her myself? Nothing would be more likely to horrify a prude.”

“Why do you say so? You ain’t quite such an antidote as that.”

“If she feels there is a position as my mistress as well as Andrew’s wife in the bargain, she will view the scheme askance, I think.”

“Oh, it won’t be the position of mistress that pops into her head. You have very little notion of how a young lady’s mind works. Just because she wears dark gowns and plain bonnets don’t mean she isn’t a romantic. All those trips to the lending library-it is always the romances she takes out. I know because she generally beats me to a new one. I wonder if she has returned Evelina yet. I am eager to read it. Why, I daresay she’s been dreaming of nabbing you for years.”

“Widgeon!” deVigne replied, dismayed at the charge.

“Ah, you’ve never been a girl, there’s the problem. They always pick out the richest, handsomest gentleman within their view and dream about him. The more impossible it is they’ll ever land him, the harder they dream. Smile, and tell her you would consider it a great personal favor, and you’ll bring her around your thumb. See if you don’t.”

“Rather a shabby trick to play on the schoolteacher, don’t you think?”

“Who are we interested in, the schoolteacher or Roberta? Besides, when she sees what a grouch and dictator you are, she won’t be long in giving up on you.”

“Thank you, love. I wondered how long your praise of my charms would go on before turning to its more customary abuse. Do you really think this plan has any chance of succeeding? I would happily play the fool for half an hour to secure Roberta’s future.”

“What have you got to lose?”

“Half an hour,” he replied, and finished off his drink. “What time does the school close? I’ll catch her there before she leaves.”

“At three-thirty in the fall, when the days are short. Wear your new bluejacket and drive the crested carriage. Give her the full treatment, and remember to smile.”

“No, I don’t plan to lead her on, but I’ll outline the advantages to herself, and if she is sensible, as one hears she is, she may at least consider the offer. And then, of course, I shall have the delightful task of approaching Grayshott and seeing if he still favors the girl. I haven’t heard him rant on about the soulful eyes for a year or so.”

“I’ll do that much for you. I’ll do it now, before you go to the school, and before he has time to get drunk.” She arose and was helped into her violet cape. “I’ll stop back here on my way to the Dower House,” she advised him, then was off through the park to tackle Grayshott.

The summer home built for Louise and Grayshott at the time of their marriage was a pleasant half-timbered cottage, hewn out of a corner of the deVigne holdings. It had deteriorated badly since Louise’s death. The garden was overgrown; what had once been a lawn was now a pasture. The place needed paint, and the windows were dirty. Like its master, the place had been allowed to run to seed. Lady Jane’s nose revolted at the dust and dirt within, but despite the unpleasantness of the surroundings in which the meeting took place, it was a success.