Джорджетт Хейер - The Convenient Marriage

Lady Winwood sank back upon her cushions with closed eyes. Charlotte, observing her alarming rigidity shrieked: “Unnatural girl! Have you no consideration for our dearest Mama? Lizzie, hartshorn!”

The hartshorn, the vinaigrette, and some Hungary Water applied to the temples restored the afflicted Lady Winwood to life. She opened her eyes and found just strength to utter: “What did the child say?”

Charlotte, fondly clasping her mother’s frail hand, said: “Mama, do not agitate yourself, I beg of you!”

“You n-need not be agitated, M-mama,” Horatia told her penitently. “It is quite true that I’ve b-been to see Lord Rule, but—”

“Then all is at an end!” said Lady Winwood fatalistically. “We may as well prepare to enter the Debtors’ Prison. I am sure I do not mind for myself, for my Days are Numbered, but my beautiful Lizzie, my sweetest Charlotte—”

“M-mama, if only you w-would listen to me!” broke in Horatia. “I have explained everything to L-Lord Rule, and—”

“Merciful heavens!” said Elizabeth. “Not—not Edward?”

“Yes, Edward. Of course I told him about Edward. And he is n-not going to marry you, Lizzie, but he p-promised he would be Edward’s P-patron instead—”

Lady Winwood had recourse to the vinaigrette again, and desired feebly to be told what she had ever done to deserve such calamity.

“And I explained how n-nothing would induce Charlotte to m-marry him, and he did not seem to m-mind that.”

“I shall die,” said Charlotte with resolution, “of Mortification!”

“Oh, Horry dear!” sighed Elizabeth, between tears and laughter.

“And I asked him,” concluded Horatia triumphantly, “if, he would marry m-me instead. And he is g-going to!”

Her relatives were bereft of speech. Even Lady Winwood apparently considered that the situation had gone beyond the powers of her vinaigrette to mend, for she allowed it to slip from her hand to the floor while she stared in a bemused way at her youngest-born.

It was Charlotte who found her voice first. “Horatia, do you say that you had the Indelicacy, the Impropriety, the—the Forwardness, to ask Lord Rule to marry you?”

“Yes,” said Horatia staunchly. “I had to.”

“And—and—” Charlotte groped for words—“he consented to—to marry you in place of Lizzie ?”

Horatia nodded.

“He cannot,” said Charlotte, “have noticed the Stammer.”

Horatia put up her chin, “I s-spoke to him about the S-stammer, and he said he l-liked it!”

Elizabeth rose up from her chair and clasped Horatia in her arms. “Oh, why should he not? Dearest, dearest, never could I permit you to sacrifice yourself for me!”

Horatia suffered the embrace. “Well, to tell you the truth, Lizzie, I would like to m-marry him. But I c-can’t help wondering whether you are quite sure you d-don’t want to?” She searched her sister’s face. “Do-do you really like Edward better?”

“Oh, my love!”

“Well, I c-can’t understand it,” said Horatia.

“It is not to be supposed,” stated Charlotte flatly, “that Lord Rule was in earnest. Depend upon it, he thinks Horry a Mere Child.”

“N-no, he does not!” said Horatia, firing up. “He w-was in earnest, and he is c-coming to tell M-mama at three this afternoon.”

“I beg that no one will expect me to face Lord Rule!” said Lady Winwood. “I am ready to sink into the ground!”

“Will he come?” demanded Charlotte. “What irremediable harm may not Horry’s impropriety have wrought? We must ask ourselves, will Lord Rule desire to ally himself with a Family one of whose members has shown herself so dead to all feelings of Modesty and Female Reserve?”

“Charlotte, you shall not say that!” said Elizabeth with unwonted stringency. “What should he think but that our dearest is but an impulsive child?”

“We must hope it,” Charlotte said heavily. “But if she has divulged your attachment to Edward Heron I fear that all is at an end. We who know and value dear Horry do not notice her blemishes, but what gentleman would engage to marry her in place of the Beauty of the Family?”

“I thought of that myself,” admitted Horatia. “He s-says he thinks he will grow used to my horrid eyebrows quite easily. And I will t-tell you something, Charlotte! He said it would be a p-pity if I became any taller.”

“How mortifying it is to reflect that Lord Rule may have been amusing himself at the expense of a Winwood!” said Charlotte.

But it seemed that Lord Rule had not been amusing himself. At three o’clock he walked up the steps of No. 20 South Street, and inquired for Lady Winwood.

In spite of her dramatic refusal to face the Earl, Lady Winwood had been induced to await him in the withdrawing-room, fortified by smelling-salts, and a new polonaise with tobine stripes which had arrived from her dressmaker’s just in time to avert a nervous collapse.

Her interview with his lordship lasted for half an hour, at the end of which time the footman was dispatched to inform Miss Horatia that her presence in the withdrawing-room was desired.

“Aha!” cried Horatia, shooting a wicked glance at Charlotte, and springing to her feet.

Elizabeth caught her hands. “Horry, it is not too late! If this arrangement is repugnant to you, for Heaven’s sake speak, and I will throw myself upon Lord Rule’s generosity!”

“Repugnant? S-stuff!” said Horatia, and danced out.

“Horry, Horry, at least let me straighten your sash!” shrieked Charlotte.

“Too late,” Elizabeth said. She clasped her hands to her breast. “If I could be assured that this is no Immolation upon the Altar of Sisterly Love!”

“If you wish to know what I think,” said Charlotte, “Horry is very well pleased with herself.”

Horatia, opening the door into the withdrawing-room, found her mother actually upon her feet, the smelling-salts lying forgotten on an ormolu table by the fire. In the middle of the room Rule was standing, watching the door, one hand, with a great square sapphire glowing on it, resting on a chair-back.

He looked very much more magnificent and unapproachable in blue velvet and gold lacing than he had seemed in his riding habit, and for a moment Horatia surveyed him rather doubtfully. Then she saw him smile and was reassured.

Lady Winwood swam towards her and embraced her. “My dearest!” she said, apparently overcome. “My lord, let my treasured child answer you with her own lips. Horatia love, Lord Rule has done you the honour to request your hand in marriage.”

“I t-told you he was going to, M-mama!” said Horatia incorrigibly.

“Horatia—I beg of you!” implored the long-suffering lady. “Your curtsy, my love!”

Horatia sank obediently into a curtsy. The Earl took her hand, as she rose, and bowed deeply over it. He said, looking down at her with a laugh in his eyes: “Madam, may I keep this little hand?”

Lady Winwood heaved a tremulous sigh, and wiped away a sympathetic tear with her handkerchief.

“P-pretty!” approved Horatia. “Indeed you m-may, sir. It is very handsome of you to give me the p-pleasure of having you p-propose for me.”

Lady Winwood looked round apprehensively for her salts, but perceiving that his lordship was laughing, changed her mind. “My baby... !” She said indulgently: “As you see, my lord, she is all unspoiled.”

She did not leave the newly-plighted pair alone, and the Earl presently took his leave with equal correctness. The front door had barely closed behind him before Lady Winwood had clasped Horatia in fond embrace. “Dearest child!” she said. “You are very, very fortunate! So personable a man! Such delicacy!”

Charlotte put her head round the door. “May we come in, Mama? Has he really offered for Horry?”