Джорджетт Хейер: The Quiet Gentleman

“Daventry!” ejaculated Mr. Morville, deriving some obscure pleasure from this disclosure. “Ha!”

“What, not one of Arun’s daughters?” exclaimed the Viscount. “Not the red-headed one who makes such a figure of herself in the Park?”

“Ay! Drives a team of showy bone-setters! Lord, she’d lame every horse in the stables! Gervase, you can’t offer for that girl!”

“No, no, I won’t!” said Gervase, interrupting a lowtoned conversation with Miss Morville to respond to this appeal.

“The Duke of Arun’s daughter,” stated the Dowager, “would make St. Erth a very eligible wife! I do not say that I have made up my mind to the match, for I do not approve of deciding such matters hastily, and I know of several other young females whom I should not object to see at Stanyon.”

“Well, well!” said Mr. Morville, refreshing himself with a pinch of snuff. “Arun’s girl, eh? I should not like the connection for either of my sons, but I daresay it will do very well!”

“Don’t think m’father would either,” said the Viscount reflectively. “Bad blood there, devilish bad blood!”

“Your father, Ulverston, is a sensible man!” said Mr. Morville.

As much confounded as it was possible for her to be, the Dowager said, with finality: “I do not desire to discuss Lady Selina. I must decline to enter upon any argument. I cannot think that St. Erth will refuse to be guided by my advice, for although I do not deny he has behaved very selfishly to me upon more than one occasion I do not consider that his disposition is bad.”

“How can you? How can you, ma’am, say such a thing of him?” uttered Miss Morville, moved to sit up. “When he has behaved to you with such forbearance — such patience!”

“Hush, my love! This is not like you!” expostulated the Earl, startled.

“Because I have not spoken, do not imagine that I have not felt! ”said Miss Morville. “I had no right to speak, but I have very often burned to do so!” She added, with resolution: “I trust I shall always behave with propriety towards the members of St. Erth’s family, but I will not allow him to be scolded, and slighted, and beset, which is something I viewed with the strongest disapprobation, even when I felt no decided partiality for him! Or, at any rate,” she amended conscientiously, “not very much!”

“My dear sir, I wish you will give me leave to address your daughter at once! ”said the Earl, quite entranced by this sudden and unexpected declaration of war on the part of his chosen bride.

“Certainly not!” replied Mr. Morville. “I consider the alliance wholly unsuitable. My daughter has been reared in accordance with principles which I do not doubt are repugnant to you. Even were you to assure me that you regard with sympathy the ideals to the promulgation of which I have devoted my life, I should remain adamant!”

“But I don’t regard them with sympathy!” said the Earl.

“You don’t?” repeated Mr. Morville, looking at him very hard.

“No, how should I? I have not the smallest desire to live in a Republican state, and if an attempt were made to strip me of my possessions I should resist it to the utmost of my power.”

“You would, eh? Well, at all events, you seem to have some ideas in your head!” said Mr. Morville.

“Upon my word!” said the Dowager. “I do not know what the world is coming to! I can scarcely believe that my ears have not deceived me! That is not very likely, however, for I have very good hearing: it is a thing I pride myself upon. I should have supposed that if there were no objection to this match on our side, there could be none on yours ,my dear sir!”

“If,” said Mr. Morville precisely, “I set any value on such things, ma’am, I should feel myself impelled to inform you that the Morvilles were seigneurs in Normandy when the Frants — if Frants there were at that date — were still in a state of serfdom!”

At this point, Mrs. Morville, who had been conferring with the Earl, interposed, saying: “Mr. Morville, St. Erth and I are agreed that it will not do to take Drusilla home today, while she feels so poorly, so we have decided that she shall go immediately to bed, and I will remain to take care of her, if you, ma’am, do not object!”

“Certainly! I shall be very happy!” said the Dowager. “If my nephew were at Stanyon, Mr. Morville, he would show you the Frant records, which we keep in the muniment room!”

“Yes, yes, ma’am, I have seen them! Nothing earlier than the fifteenth century! My brother has in his possession an interesting charter, granted by Edward III to our ancestor, Sir Ralph de Morville. He was a Garter Knight — one of the Founders, and the son of Reginald de Morville, who — Yes, my dear, what is it?”

“I have been saying, Mr. Morville,” explained his wife, with great patience, “that I am remaining here to nurse Drusilla. So if you will inform Mrs. Buxton of it she may pack a night-bag for me, and Peter can bring it to me.”

“In 1474,” said the Dowager, “we had the honour of entertaining Edward IV at Stanyon!”

“Ay, had you indeed?” said Mr. Morville. “ My family, of course, always held by the true line!”

It was now apparent to everyone that battle was fairly joined. Mrs. Morville gave it as her opinion that it would be useless to attempt to distract the attention of either combatant, but when Drusilla was assisted to rise from the sofa, to go upstairs to bed, and stood for a moment, supported by the Earl’s arm, Mr. Morville happened to notice this circumstance, and broke off in the middle of what he was saying to the Dowager to address fatherly words of encouragement to his daughter.

“Going to bed?” he said. “That’s right! You look a very poor thing, my dear! Better let St. Erth carry you, or you will be tumbling down in another faint!”

“An excellent suggestion, sir!” said the Earl, and picked his betrothed up and bore her off, heedless alike of her entreaties to him to remember his own injury, and of the strongly worded disapproval of Martin and the Viscount, who followed him out of the Hall, urging him to relinquish his burden to one or other of them.

“Well, well!” said Mr. Morville indulgently. “They mean to have each other, I suppose! It might have been worse. I don’t dislike your stepson, ma’am: at least he isn’t afraid to know his own mind, which is more than I can say of most of the young men I meet! But as for this Crusader of yours — ! No, no, the Férants were a Gascony family, which died out before 1500! No connection with the Frants, none at all! I told your late husband so, years ago! We ,of course, have Raymond de Morville, and his cousin Bertrand, both of whom were twice on crusades, and are buried at Fonthaven, but I don’t consider it anything to boast of!”