Sylvia Andrew - An Inescapable Match

‘I don’t remember that I ever had to call anyone in.’

‘Oh? So you’ve never had sprains and bruises during all those gentlemanly pursuits? You’ve been fortunate!’

He laughed. ‘Of course I have, you little shrew. What would you have done for me? Given me one of those?’

‘No, I’d use comfrey for any sprains and that doesn’t grow here. I’d have to go to the other side of the village for it. Agrimony is found there, too—that’s good for gout.’

‘Thank you, but I am not a victim yet. What do you have there to help me?’

‘This is burdock, which is good for burns, betony to help your digestion, bugle to cure dementia after drinking…’

‘How useful!’ Hugo interposed drily. ‘That yellow one is weaselsnout, isn’t it?’

Deborah pulled a face at him. ‘Hugo! Is that what you call it? It has a much prettier name—and a wonderful reputation.’

‘Oh?’

‘It’s called yellow archangel, and the herbalists claim that it “makes the heart merry, drives away melancholy and quickens the spirits”. What else could one ask for?’

‘What indeed? Perhaps I should call you weaselsnout, Deborah. You often have the same effect.’

‘Hugo!’ Deborah protested laughing, not sure whether she was flattered at his compliment or not too pleased about the name.

‘Do you know all the plants?’

‘On the contrary. I am an ignoramus compared with Lavender Brabant!’

‘What? The Admiral’s daughter? Lives in Hewly Manor? I don’t think I’ve exchanged more than two words with her in my life.’

‘Years ago, when I stayed with Aunt Elizabeth, I sometimes met Lavender in the woods. She taught me the little I know—I think she can recognise every plant that grows round here. I’m not surprised you haven’t spoken to her—she’s somewhat elusive. A recluse, like Hester.’

‘Ah yes. Hester…’ He walked on in silence for a moment.

‘You’re worried about her, aren’t you, Hugo? What do you think she will do? About Lord Dungarran, I mean.’

‘My sister is famous for her stubbornness, but I think… I hope she might eventually give in. Dungarran can be very persuasive. He was saying something last night about taking extreme measures. I don’t know what they can be, but I hope he doesn’t intend to carry her off. I don’t see him as a latterday Lochinvar, and only extreme youth could excuse such dramatic behaviour. Oh, it’s all rather ridiculous. What a pair of fools they are!’

‘No, Hugo. Love is never ridiculous. You watch—Hester will see reason in the end. I know she will.’

‘Reason? Reason has absolutely nothing to do with it. But Robert Dungarran would be a splendid match for her. He is extremely eligible, and an excellent fellow besides. I admit that I should like to see Hester settled, especially before…’ He hesitated.

‘Yes?’

‘Before I settle down with a wife myself. I’ve been talking to my father. As you know, he is anxious to see me married.’

‘Yes, I know.’ Deborah’s voice was muffled as she bent her head, ostensibly to avoid some overhanging branches. ‘And?’

‘I mentioned the twins to him. He would be well pleased if I offered for one of them and he believes that my Uncle William would be delighted to give his consent.’

‘Really?’

‘Finding husbands for four daughters is a heavy burden. It looks as if Robina’s future is now secure, but my poor uncle still has three more dowries to find. As you well know, sending a daughter to London for the Season is an expensive business—and for the twins he would have to find enough for two!’

‘But surely Robina would help!’

‘She isn’t married yet, Deborah. The twins are past their nineteenth birthday already.’

‘Oh come, Hugo! There’s still plenty of time! Robina will certainly be married before next year’s Season starts. She would be delighted to sponsor the twins in London. I am sure. Indeed, she will enjoy it. The twins are certain to be a huge success! Two of them, identically pretty, identically charming… Society will be hugely impressed. How can you have any doubts?’

Hugo went on almost as if he had not heard her. ‘And either of them would be perfect as the next chatelaine of Perceval Hall.’

There was a pause. Then Deborah said quietly, ‘What about you, Hugo? Which one would be perfect for you?’

He shook his head. ‘That’s the trouble! I would find it very difficult to make up my mind between them!’

She looked at him with astonished disapproval. ‘You mean you don’t know? Hugo, you can’t, you mustn’t contemplate marriage with either of my cousins until you know which one you love!’

‘How can I do that? They are both equally lovable!’

‘I agree. But they are not…not interchangeable. Frederica is a person in her own right, and so is Edwina. Each one of them has her own quite distinct personality.’

‘Aren’t you being a little absurd, Deborah? Of course I know they are different. Edwina is livelier, Frederica has more forethought. Edwina has the better seat on a horse, Frederica is the more graceful dancer. They both play the harp well, though you have always been the truly musical member of the family…’

‘Stop! Stop!’ cried Deborah. ‘I don’t wish to hear any more of this…this soulless catalogue of my cousins’ talents. How can you possibly choose a wife by such superficial criteria?’

Hugo was offended. ‘I don’t understand you,’ he said coldly. ‘What do you propose I should do? Disappoint both families by looking elsewhere?’

‘By no means. But I do think you ought to get to know both Edwina and Frederica a great deal better before you contemplate marrying either of them. I love them both dearly, and any man who won the affection of either of them would be very lucky. But without strong and lasting affection—equally strong on both sides—marriage is a dangerous enterprise.’

‘How you exaggerate, Deborah!’

‘Hugo, I know what I am talking about, believe me!’

‘I assure you that I haven’t the slightest intention of making my marriage a dangerous enterprise. I have always maintained that two reasonable people, with similar interests and good will on both sides, can make a success of any partnership—marriage included. Romantic extravagance poses the greatest danger to such a partnership, and neither of the twins would ever indulge in that!’

Deborah shook her head, but saw it was useless to argue. She changed her ground. ‘What about Edwina and Frederica? Do you know how they would regard an offer from you?’

‘Whichever one I approached would naturally consider it very seriously.’

Deborah gave a most unladylike snort. ‘Naturally!’

Hugo wasn’t offended by this. He said in quite a matter-of-fact way, ‘You mustn’t think me a cox-comb, Deborah. My cousins are reasonably sensible girls. They must know that marriage to me would enhance their position in the world. My wife would eventually be mistress of a very handsome estate, with an assured place in society. That must be worth something. And I am not, as far as I am aware, a monster.’

He looked at her with a touch of anxiety. ‘I think they like me enough. Don’t they? Don’t they, Deborah?’

‘They are certainly fond of you, Hugo—we all are. But…enough to marry? That’s something you would have to ask the lady of your choice yourself. Even if I knew, I wouldn’t tell you.’ She hesitated, then said, ‘May I say something? Something you might not like?’

‘Do,’ said Hugo. ‘You don’t usually hesitate.’

‘I… I think that, if you were to ask one of my cousins to marry you, she might accept you without questioning her own feelings in the matter. They both admire you so much. And, of course, they are both aware of how much it would please the family.’