“Nearly three hundred rooms. Mr. Wyatt, whom we consulted regarding the improvements, has widened the whole and brought reason to the arrangement of the principal apartments.[21] This is the saloon,” Lady Imogen added, throwing open a set of lofty doors surmounted by a pediment, “ — where we often play at cards of an evening. The music room, where my instrument is set out, is adjacent. The apartment is our chief delight at present, as Mr. Wyatt’s work here is nearly complete.”
Mr. Prowting, whose anxious bulk hovered at my right elbow, managed a phlegmatic “Magnificent!”
It was a bright and airy chamber, with ivory-coloured walls and mouldings picked out in gold leaf; a massive chimney piece of carved white stone, in the form of nymphs supporting a plinth, dominated each end. The chief virtue of the room, however, lay in its great windows, which gave onto a delightful prospect of lawns and trees sloping gently towards the lake. This was skirted and surmounted in its narrowest part by a great stone parapet, over which our carriages had clattered only a few moments before.
We had set out from Chawton at ten o’clock, taking in Henry on our way. It was a smaller party than originally planned, my brother Neddie having pledged himself to all the cares and irksomenesses of Quarter Day, and being even now established in Mr. Barlow’s back parlour awaiting the appearance of his numerous tenants. My mother could not be torn from the vigourous excavations undertaken in her back garden, of which she had unflagging hopes; and Mrs. Prowting was indisposed for a long carriage drive in the heat of summer, but thought it highly necessary that her husband accompany the two girls. We had therefore placed ourselves at Miss Maria Beckford’s disposal, Cassandra and I taking two seats in the Middleton carriage. The three Prowtings and Miss Benn went in the magistrate’s barouche; and the three eldest Middleton girls went in a hired equipage with their maid. Henry had made a dashing cicisbeo, trailing beside Miss Benn on his hired hack, and offering charming observations on the suitability of the party; and the weather had not seen fit to disappoint. We had achieved the intervening miles at an easy pace, and arrived in Sherborne St. John a few moments before noon. We had been cordially met by Major Spence and Lady Imogen, who tarried only long enough to see our wraps bestowed on a housemaid, before conducting us through the marble-floored entry hall to the delights within.
“I am reminded,” Cassandra said in a lowered tone, “of the Duke of Dorset’s establishment at Knole, in Kent; but tho’ easily as extensive as this, that is a house in an entirely different style.”
Mr. Thrace, we were told, was still engaged in his morning’s ride, but was every moment expected. Lady Imogen looked as tho’ she did not notice her rival’s absence. She was in excellent spirits, her manner a mixture of the arch and the sweet that could not fail to please. She was clothed this morning in a light muslin gown of pale jonquil colour, with beribboned sandals on her feet, her countenance glowing with the animation of her speech. There was a kind of triumph in all her aspect that suggested a victory gained — and I felt a surge of anxious solicitude on the subject of my stolen chest. Such happiness could not be due merely to last evening’s win at cards — she had a deeper game in train, and appeared confident of her luck. The admiration of every gentleman in the room was evident; the rest of the ladies must be cast in the shade; and it was as well for my brother Edward that he had stayed in Alton — this lady was far too bewitching for his fragile state to bear. Major Spence did not need to proclaim his captivation: tho’ correct and more often silent than not, he frequently bent his dark eyes upon Lady Imogen’s face or form, and she did not move to a door or a chair but he was before her instantly as guide. How difficult must be the trials of such a man, placed in a position of subservience to the object of his ardent love! To offer his heart, as he clearly had done, in the shattering knowledge that were she to accept him, the match should be called a misalliance by the Great. Had she ever attempted to use her power over him? — Attempted, perhaps, to employ his allegiance against Julian Thrace? I could hardly say. Lady Imogen showed Spence nothing more than easy affection, of a sort she might have reserved for a groom that had placed her, long ago, upon her first pony.
As I stood near Cassandra in the elegant saloon, and gazed out at the picturesque view offered through its windows, I considered of the beauties of the Earl’s estate — and very nearly forgave the theft of Lord Harold’s precious documents. To be mistress — or master — of Stonings was an ambition that might inspire any number of crimes!
“And to think that all this has been left slumbering for years!” Henry declared.
“Having never expected to inherit the title — he was a younger son, you know — my father was disinclined to live in the style befitting an Earl,” Lady Imogen replied. “I do not think his lordship’s memories of childhood in this place are entirely happy ones. And having been a single gentleman for much of his life, he naturally prefers to maintain an establishment in Town — near his clubs and cronies — or retire to his shooting box when a craving for the country seizes him. I cannot remember when we last visited Stonings together; when I was no more than three, I daresay.”
The year the Countess of Holbrook ran away with a Colonel of the Horse Guards, I thought; and from Henry’s looks, his mind was reverting to the same. But whatever the Earl’s past feelings towards the house, he did not seem disposed to hold it in contempt now. So much sudden and expensive activity, on behalf of a putative heir — or an elegant daughter with habits of expence?
“Stonings frightened me when I was little,” Lady Imogen confided. “It was always cold and cheerless, and the servants were not the ones I knew. I used to lose my way in the upper storeys and be found crying behind some moth-eaten curtain, convinced I had been buried alive. But now I am grown, I see the place for what it is: an ancient and honourable seat that ought not to be allowed to fall into ruin.”
“Mr. Dyer’s folk have much to do, I presume?” Mr. Prowting enquired.
Charles Spence inclined his head. “They have been engaged on the repairs nearly three months, and are likely to continue their labour a year or more. The roof tiles had given way extensively in a number of places — the south end of the east wing, and the central hall — so that there is damp in nearly every ceiling and wall, and the plaster has required to be replaced throughout. Then there are the ravages to wainscoting and floors from a variety of feral creatures we are even still discovering in various corners, and the collapse of stone walls about the property. For you must understand, Mr. Prowting, that however grand the house itself, it is as nothing to the gardens, which were extensively improved in the last century by the present Earl’s grandfather, with the assistance of Mr. Capability Brown.”
“Major Spence is a fund of knowledge regarding Stonings,”
Lady Imogen observed, “and his work is tireless. I believe Charles loves this place better than all of us.”
“When one has been far from home, and privileged to defend it,” he replied, “one cannot help but hold English soil more precious than anything else in life.”
“My father would not agree with you!” Imogen chortled. “If you could hear him deplore this rackety old barracks!”
“And yet he chose wisely, in placing the Major here,” I observed. “Perhaps the Earl will descend upon Hampshire soon, and inspect the progress.”
“The Earl will be arrived in less than three weeks’ time,” said a voice from the music room doorway, “and intends, so I believe, to give a ball. I will be three-and-twenty then, you know — and you must all drink to my health!”
21
Lewis Wyatt was one of a family of architects who, collectively, were responsible for some of the most significant buildings of the late Georgian and Regency periods.