Джорджетт Хейер - The Grand Sophy

“He did not precisely desire me to do so,” answered Miss Wraxton scrupulously, “but he has spoken to me on this head, and I know what his sentiments are. You must know that Society will look indulgently upon mere pranks, such as driving off in Charles’s curricle, for Lady Ombersley’s protection must give you countenance.”

“How fortunate I am!” said Sophy. “But do you think you are wise to be seen in my company?”

“Now you are quizzing, Miss Stanton-Lacy!”

“No, I am only afraid that you may suffer for being seen in such a vehicle as this, and with so fast a female!”

“Hardly,” Miss Wraxton said gently. “Perhaps it may be thought a little odd in me, for I do not drive myself in London, but I think my character is sufficiently well established to make it possible for me to do, if I wished, what others might be imprudent to attempt.”

They were by this time within sight of the gate by Apsley House. “Now let me understand you!” begged Sophy. “If I were to do something outrageous while in your company, would your credit be good enough to carry me off?”

“Let us say my family’s credit, Miss Stanton-Lacy. I may venture to reply, without hesitation, yes.”

“Capital!” said Sophy briskly, and turned her horses toward the gate.

Miss Wraxton, losing some of her assurance, said sharply, “tray, what are you about?”

“I am going to do what I have been wanting to do ever I since I was told I must not, on any account!” replied Sophy. “It is with me a kind of Bluebeard’s chamber.” The phaeton swung through the gateway and turned  sharply to the left, narrowly escaping collision with a ponderous lozenge coach.

Miss Wraxton uttered a stifled shriek and clutched the side of the phaeton. “Take care! Please pull up your horses at once! I do not wish to drive through the streets! Have you taken leave of your senses?”

“No, no, do not be afraid. I am quite sane. How glad I am that you chose to drive with me! Such an opportunity as this might never else have come in my way!”

“Miss Stanton-Lacy, I do not know what you mean, and again I must beg of you to pull up! I am not at all diverted by this prank, and I wish to, alight from your phaeton instantly!”

“What, and walk along Piccadilly unattended? You cannot mean it!”

“Stop!” commanded Miss Wraxton, in almost shrill accents. “On no account. Dear me, what a lot of traffic! Perhaps you had better not talk to me until I have weaved my way through all these carts and carriages.”

“For heaven’s sake, at least slacken your pace!” Miss Wraxton besought her, in the liveliest alarm.

“I will, when we come to the turning,” promised Sophy, passing between a waggon and a mail coach, with a matter of inches to spare. A moan from her companion caused her to add kindly, “There is no need to be in a fright. Sir Horace made me drive through a gateway until I could be trusted not even to scrape the varnish.”

They were now ascending the rise in Piccadilly. With a strong effort at self-control, Miss Wraxton demanded, “Tell me at once where you are taking me!”

“Down St. James’s Street,” replied Sophy coolly.

“What?” gasped Miss Wraxton, turning quite pale. “You will not do such a thing! No lady would be seen driving there! Amongst all the clubs, the object of every town saunterer! You cannot know what would be said of you! Stop this instant!”

“No, I want to see this Bow Window I hear so much of and all the dandies who sit there. How wretched that Mr. Brummel has been obliged to go abroad! Do you know, I never saw him in my life? Are you able to point out the various clubs to me? Shall we recognize White’s, or are there other houses with bow windows?”

“This is your notion of raillery, Miss Stanton-Lacy! You are not serious?”

“Yes, I am. Of course, I should not have dared to do it without you sitting beside, me to lend me credit, but you have assured me that your position is unassailable, and I see that I need have no scruple in gratifying my ambition. I daresay your consequence is great enough to make it quite a fashionable drive for ladies. We shall see!”

No argument that Miss Wraxton could advance, and she advanced many, had the power to move her. She drove on inexorably. Wild ideas of springing from the phaeton crossed Miss Wraxton’s mind, only to be rejected. It was too dangerous to be attempted. Had she been wearing a veil she might have pulled it over her face, and hoped to have escaped recognition, but her hat was a perfectly plain one and bore only a modest bow of ribbon. She had not even a parasol and was obliged to sit bolt upright, staring rigidly ahead of her the length of that disgraceful street. She did not utter a word until the horses swung round into Pall Mall, and then she said in a low voice, unsteady with rage and chagrin, “I will never forgive you! Never!”

“How uncharitable of you!” said Sophy lightly. “Shall I set you down now?”

“If you dare to abandon me in this locality — ”

“Very well, I will drive you to Berkeley Square. I do not know whether you will find my cousin at home at this hour, but at all events you may complain of me to my aunt, which I am sure you must be longing to do.”

“Do not speak to me!” said Miss Wraxton throbbingly. Sophy laughed.

Outside Ombersley House she broke the silence. “Can you get down without assistance? Having cast off my groom, together with your maid, I must drive the phaeton round to the stables myself.”

Miss Wraxton, vouchsafing no answer, climbed down, and walked up the steps to the front door.

It was half an hour later before Dassett admitted Sophy into the house. She found Mr. Rivenhall at the very moment coming down the stairs, and said at once, “Ah, so you were at home! I am so glad!”

He was looking very stern, and replied in a level tone, “Will you come into the library for a few minutes?”

She accompanied him there and began to drag off her driving gloves with hands that were not quite steady. Her eyes were still sparkling, and a not unbecoming flush mantled her cheeks. “Cousin, what, in God’s name, possessed you?” demanded Mr. Rivenhall.

“Oh, has not Miss Wraxton told you? I have realized an ambition!”

“You must be mad! Don’t you know how improper it was of you to do such a thing?”

“Yes, indeed I knew, and should never have dared to do it without the protection of Miss Wraxton’s presence! Do not look so dismayed! She assured me that even though I did something outrageous in her company her credit was good enough to carry me off! Surely you cannot doubt it!”

“Sophy, she cannot have said such a thing!”

She shrugged, and turned away. “No? Have it as you will!”

“What had occurred? What reason had you for causing her such mortification?”

“I will leave Miss Wraxton to tell you what she chooses. I have said too much already. I do not like tale bearers, and will not sink to that level! My actions are no concern of yours, Cousin Charles, and even less are they Miss Wraxton’s.”

“What you have just done is very much her concern!”

“True. I stand corrected.”

“It is also my concern to see that you come to no harm while you are a guest in this house. Such conduct as you indulged in this afternoon might do you a great deal of harm, let me tell you!”

“My dear Charles, I am past praying for, as intimate as I am with rakes and rattles!” she flashed.

He stiffened. “Who said that?”

“You, I understand, but you had too much delicacy to say it to my face. You should have known better than to think I should listen meekly to Miss Wraxton, however!”

“And you should know better than to imagine that I would deliver my strictures through Miss Wraxton, or anyone else!”

She lifted a hand to her cheek, and he saw it was to dash away a teardrop. “Oh, be quiet! Cannot you see that I am too angry to talk with any moderation? My wretched tongue! But though you did not desire Miss Wraxton to scold me for you, you did discuss me with her, did you not?”

“Whatever I may have said I did not mean to be repeated. It was, however, extremely improper of me to have criticized you to Miss Wraxton. I beg your pardon!”

She pulled out her handkerchief from the sleeve of her habit and blew her nose. Her flush died down; she said ruefully, “Now I am disarmed. How provoking of you! Why could you not have flown into one of your rages? You are so disobliging! Was it so very bad to have driven down St. James’s Street?”

“You knew it was, for Miss Wraxton told you so. You have caused her a great deal of distress, Sophy.”

“Oh, dear! I do such dreadful things when I lose my temper! Very well, it was wrong in me — very wrong! Must I beg her pardon?”

“You must see that you owe her an apology. If anything she may have said to you angered you, at least she had no such intention. She meant nothing but kindness, and is very much upset by the outcome. Mine is the blame, for having led her to suppose that I wished her to take you to task.”

She smiled. “That’s handsome of you, Charles! I am sorry. I have created an uncomfortable situation. Where is Miss Wraxton? In the drawing room? Take me up to her, then, and I will do what I may to mend things!”

“Thank you,” he said, opening the door for her.

Miss Wraxton was found to have recovered from her agitation and to be glancing through the pages of the Gentleman’s Magazine. She glanced coldly at Sophy, and lowered her eyes again to the periodical. Sophy walked across the room, saying in her frank way: “Will you forgive me? Indeed, I beg your pardon, and am very sorry! It was shocking conduct!”

“So shocking, Miss Stanton-Lacy, that I prefer not to speak of it.”

“If that means that you will try to forget it, I shall be very grateful to you.”

“Certainly I shall do so.”

“Thank you!” Sophy said. “You are very kind!”

She turned and went quickly to the door. Mr. Rivenhall was holding it, and detained her for a moment, saying in a much warmer voice than she had yet heard him use, “If anyone should mention the affair to me, I shall say that having bought those bays of yours against my advice you were well served, for they got away with you!”

She smiled, but said, “I wish you will do what you can to undo any harm I may have caused.”

“My dear girl, don’t refine too much upon it. There is no need, I assure you.”

She cast him a look of gratitude, and left the room.

“You were not very generous, were you, Eugenia?” said Mr. Rivenhall.

“I consider her behavior unpardonable.”

“It is unnecessary to tell me so; you made it plain enough that you thought so.”

Her bosom swelled. “I did not think to hear you take her part against me, Charles!”

“I have not done so, but the fault was not all hers. You had no right to take her to task, Eugenia, much less to repeat whatever ill-considered words I may have uttered! I am not surprised she was so angry. I have a temper myself!”

“You do not seem to consider the agony of mortification I have been obliged to suffer! What Mama would say if she knew — ”

“Oh, enough, enough!” he said impatiently. “You make too much of it! Let us, for heaven’s sake, forget it!”

She was offended, but she saw that to persist would lower her in his eyes. It annoyed her to think that she had shown to less advantage than Sophy in the little scene that had been enacted. She forced herself to smile, and say magniloquently, “You are right. I have allowed myself to be too much moved. Please assure your cousin that I shall not think of the matter again!”

She had her reward, for he grasped her hand at once, saying, “That is more like you! I knew I could not be mistaken in you!”

THE TWO ladies did not meet again until the day of the expedition to Merton, Miss Wraxton, convinced that she had become notorious, having decided to pay a long deferred visit to her elder sister, who lived in Kent, and was famous for turning her guests to good account. Eugenia was not fond of running Lady Louisa’s errands or of playing with her numerous offspring, but she was strongly of the opinion that she would be wise to absent herself from London until the inevitable whisperings had died down. The Rivenhalls thus enjoyed immunity from her punitive descents upon them for seven whole days, which was felt by almost all to be an advantage far outweighing the ills of Sophy’s indiscretion. This did not reach the ears of Lady Ombersley, but was naturally known to the younger members of the household, some of whom were much shocked, while others, notably Hubert and Selina, considered that their cousin had taken a splendid lark. No apparent repercussions followed her exploit, and although she was obliged to endure much chaffing from her young relatives, even this very soon took a turn in another direction. A much more fruitful topic for jests presented itself in the shape of young Lord Bromford, who swam suddenly into the Rivenhalls’ ken, and was regarded by them as so much manna dropped from heaven.