“More than well. I’ve been repairing my fortune: I’ll tell you about it later.”
“Chawleigh nudge you on to a sure thing?”
“No, far otherwise! I flew in the face of his advice, and nicked the nick!”
“You don’t mean it? Well done, dear boy!” Brough gripped his arm for an instant above the elbow, giving it an eloquent squeeze. “Couldn’t be better pleased if I’d made my own fortune! Used to count you the unluckiest fellow of my acquaintance, Dev, but I’ve been thinking lately that you ain’t.”
“Good God, I never was! They used to say of me that I’d as many lucky escapes as Harry Smith!”
“Shouldn’t be at all surprised: I’ve seen one of ’em myself,” Brough said cryptically. He continued, almost without a check: “No objection to Lydia’s going off with m’mother, have you? Mama doesn’t show it, but she’s devilish anxious, you know.”
“Of course I’ve no objection, you gudgeon!”
“Taken a great fancy to Lydia,” said Brough, his eyes turning towards that damsel involuntarily. “Won’t get a fit of blue devils if she has her with her — no one could! Made a hit with m’father too: he told me last night she was as sound as a roast! Myself, I think he’s a shocking old flirt.”
There could be no doubt that the Adversanes approved of Brough’s engagement. Adam thought that Lydia, never a comfort to the Dowager, was already a comfort to her mother-in-law, and would soon become more a Beamish than a Deveril. Once, her overriding ambition had been to restore the fortunes of the Deverils: he recognized, a little ruefully, that she was more concerned today with the fate of her future brother-in-law than with her own brother’s affairs, As though she had read his thought, Jenny said, later, when she stood beside him, waving farewell to Lydia: “Well, one can’t help but feel moped, and that’s a fact, as Papa would say! but she’s going to be as happy as a grig. What’s more, we won’t lose her, as we might have done if she’d got herself riveted to someone you weren’t acquainted with, and maybe wouldn’t have liked above half. How comfortable it will be! Not that we don’t go on very well with Charlotte and Lambert, but — Oh, my goodness! Charlotte! If I hadn’t forgotten all about it! Well, what a topsy-turvy day this is, to be sure! I must — ” She stopped, for they had walked back into the house together, and she saw that Julia was coming down the stairs. She said immediately, in her most prosaic voice: “Good-morning, Julia! I do hope you slept well? You are just too late to say goodbye to Lady Adversane and Lydia, but they left all kinds of messages for you. Brough and his father set out for London half-an-hour ago, to try if they can learn any more news of the battle, you know.”
Julia, standing with one hand on the baluster-rail, lifted the other to her brow. “The battle — the battle — the battle! No one can talk of anything else!”
“Well, it’s natural the Adversanes should be anxious,” Jenny said. “Adam, do you take Julia into the Green Saloon! I must scribble a note for Twitcham to carry to Membury Place.”
She went away, as she spoke, walking down the vaulted corridor with a brisk step. In strong contrast, Julia came slowly down into the hall, seeming almost to float over the stairs.
Adam stood, looking up at her, struck, as he always was, by her exquisite beauty and the grace of her every movement.
Her eyes were fixed on his face; she said: “You should not have returned so soon. I’m still here, you see. But I shall soon be gone.”
He moved towards her, saying: “I’m very glad that you are still here. I hoped you might be, so that I could beg your pardon. An infamous host, am I not? I promise you, I’m very conscious of it, and don’t at all think I deserve to be forgiven, for I can tell you won’t accept the battle as an excuse!”
“Did you think I should? I know you too well! You didn’t wish me to come to Fontley, did you? You should have told me so.”
“My dear Julia — ! No, no, you are quite mistaken!”
“Ah, don’t talk like that!” she said impulsively. “Not to me! Not to me, Adam!”
He was considerably taken aback. The throbbing note in Julia’s voice indicated, even to his inexperienced ears, that she was dangerously wrought up. He remembered having been told by Lady Oversley that her sensibility made her subject to hysterical fits, and he devoutly hoped that one of these was not imminent. With a lively dread of being precipitated into a dramatic scene in the most public place in the house, he said: “Come into the saloon! We can’t talk here.”
She shrugged, but allowed him to shepherd her into the saloon. He shut the door, and said: “Now, what is it, Julia? You can’t suppose that I fled from Fontley because you were coming to visit us!”
“You can’t bear to see me here! You once told me so — ”
“Surely not!” he expostulated.
“You said it was painfuclass="underline" is it still so painful? Why did you allow Jenny to invite me? How could I know — ”
“Julia, for God’s sake — ! You’re talking nonsense, my dear — indeed, you are! I left Fontley because Mr Chawleigh sent me a most urgent message, and for no other reason. I had thought to be back again in good time for Lydia’s party, but circumstances intervened which made it impossible. It was very bad of me — and I am deep in disgrace with Lydia! Poor girl! she was set on having all of us at her party, and in the end not one of us was present!”
“Lydia! She was not mortified by your absence! No one thought you had stayed away because she was here! I would not have believed that you would offer me such a slight! You might have written to me — one line only, telling me not to come, and I should have understood, and made an excuse to remain in town! But to go away as you did — You might as well have declared to everyone that you preferred not to meet me! Lady Adversane is not so stupid that she didn’t guess. She was delighted, I daresay! They don’t like me, either of them. They made that plain enough! And Brough has always detested me! Nothing could have been more marked than their attentions to Lydia, and their incivility to me. Jenny and I were left quite out in the cold, until Rockhill took pity on Jenny, and talked insipidities to her. There was nothing for me to do but to occupy myself at the pianoforte, which I was able to do without fear of interrupting conversation, since no one paid the least heed.”
He had listened to her first in astonishment, and then in amusement, as it dawned on him that the real cause of her tantrum was not his defection but the attentions paid to Lydia. He did not for a moment suppose that the Adversanes had been uncivil, or even that Julia was jealous of Lydia. If she had been made much of, she would almost certainly have insisted that Lydia, celebrating her betrothal, must be first in consequence. She never tried to shine down her friends; Adam knew how prettily she would coax a shy girl out of her shell, and he guessed that had she found a vacant throne awaiting her at Fontley she would have handed Lydia on to it with enchanting grace. The trouble had been that she had found Lydia already established on the throne. She had not stepped down from it; nobody had considered that she had any right to it. It was unlikely, too, that she had been accorded the admiration which she quite unconsciously expected; Brough had never been one of her court, and the Adversanes were naturally far more interested in their future daughter-in-law than in Rockhill’s wife. She had obviously spent a miserable evening, feeling herself neglected, and was now in a mood to pick out any grievance that offered, and to magnify it into a tragedy.
Adam had never before seen her in a pet, or imagined that she could behave like a spoiled child. He was not in the least angry with her, but he did think that she was being silly and tiresome. He wondered whether she often indulged in dramatic tantrums, and found himself feeling sorry for Rockhill.
“I shall never come to Fontley again,” Julia said.
“Yes, you will,” he replied, smiling at her. “You’ll come to Lydia’s wedding, in September, and see what a good host I can be!”