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Authors: Georgette Heyer
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You are the very man I need.”
“Ned!” said Mr. Carlyon explosively. “What the devil have you been about?” “Just what you knew I meant to be about. Did Nicky tell you what had chanced?” “Yes, Nicky did tell me!” John said grimly. “Very pretty tidings, upon my word! But he did not tell me the whole!”
“No, for he did not know it. I have been fortunate in finding a lady willing to marry Eustace, and I stand very much in her debt.” He smiled slightly at Elinor as he spoke, and added, “Miss Rochdale—or, rather, Mrs. Cheviot—you are very tired, and must be anxious to retire. It has been a fatiguing day for you.”
“Yes,” agreed Elinor, regarding him with a fascinated eye. “It—it has been just a little fatiguing!”
“Well, I am going to put you in my brother’s charge. He will take care of you, and drive you to my home. John, how came you here?”
“I rode.”
“Very well. Leave your horse for me, and take Mrs. Cheviot in my curricle. Tell Mrs. Rugby to see her comfortably bestowed, and be sure that she has some refreshment before she retires.”
“Well—yes, certainly! Of course! But you, Ned?” “I must stay. I shall come later.”
“Is Eustace alive?”
“Yes, he’s alive. I’ll tell you the whole presently. Do you take Mrs. Cheviot home now, there’s a good fellow!”
“I thought,” said Elinor feebly, “that I was to put up here for the night.”
“Circumstances have changed, however, and I think you will be more comfortable at the Hall. You will be quite safe in my brother’s hands, and you will find my housekeeper very ready to attend to all your wants. John, Mrs. Cheviot’s baggage is already bestowed in the curricle, so you have nothing to wait for.”
“But what am I going to do?” Elinor asked helplessly. “We will discuss that tomorrow,” replied Carlyon.
He left the room, just nodding to his brother as he passed him, and Mrs. Cheviot and Mr. Carlyon were left to eye one another doubtfully. “I will go and bring the curricle round to the door,” said John heavily.
“I don’t think I should go.”
“Oh, yes, indeed I think you should! You will not wish to stay here with that creature dying abovestairs.” He checked himself, and colored. “I beg pardon! I was forgetting—” “You need not beg my pardon. I never saw your cousin until an hour ago,” she said. “You—Mrs. Cheviot, you do not tell me that you responded to the advertisement which my brother caused to be—”
“Oh, no! It was all a mistake. I am a governess. I came to take up a position in quite another household, and, in error, stepped into your brother’s carriage, which was waiting at the coach stop. But why I have allowed myself to be thrust into marrying your dreadful cousin I cannot tell! I think I must be as mad as your brother!”
“Well, it is all very odd,” said John, “but if Carlyon thought you should marry Cheviot you may depend upon it you have done the right thing. You must not be thinking that he is mad. Indeed, I can’t think how you should do so, for I never knew anyone with a better understanding. I will go and fetch the curricle.”
Elinor had perforce to acquiesce, and in a very few minutes was stepping up once more into this vehicle. John was careful to wrap the rug securely about her, and drove off, holding the horses to a steady trot.
“You know, if you should not object, I should be very glad to know how all this business came about,” he suggested.
She told him her share in the evening’s events. He listened in a good deal of surprise, and his comments were those of a sensible man. He had a deliberate way of speaking, and she thought that he resembled Carlyon more nearly than did his youngest brother. In appearance, he was very like him, although half a head shorter. Both air and address were good, and his manners were conciliating. Elinor found it easy to confide in him, for although he appeared to be quite uncritical of Carlyon’s
“Ned!” said Mr. Carlyon explosively. “What the devil have you been about?” “Just what you knew I meant to be about. Did Nicky tell you what had chanced?” “Yes, Nicky did tell me!” John said grimly. “Very pretty tidings, upon my word! But he did not tell me the whole!”
“No, for he did not know it. I have been fortunate in finding a lady willing to marry Eustace, and I stand very much in her debt.” He smiled slightly at Elinor as he spoke, and added, “Miss Rochdale—or, rather, Mrs. Cheviot—you are very tired, and must be anxious to retire. It has been a fatiguing day for you.”
“Yes,” agreed Elinor, regarding him with a fascinated eye. “It—it has been just a little fatiguing!”
“Well, I am going to put you in my brother’s charge. He will take care of you, and drive you to my home. John, how came you here?”
“I rode.”
“Very well. Leave your horse for me, and take Mrs. Cheviot in my curricle. Tell Mrs. Rugby to see her comfortably bestowed, and be sure that she has some refreshment before she retires.”
“Well—yes, certainly! Of course! But you, Ned?” “I must stay. I shall come later.”
“Is Eustace alive?”
“Yes, he’s alive. I’ll tell you the whole presently. Do you take Mrs. Cheviot home now, there’s a good fellow!”
“I thought,” said Elinor feebly, “that I was to put up here for the night.”
“Circumstances have changed, however, and I think you will be more comfortable at the Hall. You will be quite safe in my brother’s hands, and you will find my housekeeper very ready to attend to all your wants. John, Mrs. Cheviot’s baggage is already bestowed in the curricle, so you have nothing to wait for.”
“But what am I going to do?” Elinor asked helplessly. “We will discuss that tomorrow,” replied Carlyon.
He left the room, just nodding to his brother as he passed him, and Mrs. Cheviot and Mr. Carlyon were left to eye one another doubtfully. “I will go and bring the curricle round to the door,” said John heavily.
“I don’t think I should go.”
“Oh, yes, indeed I think you should! You will not wish to stay here with that creature dying abovestairs.” He checked himself, and colored. “I beg pardon! I was forgetting—” “You need not beg my pardon. I never saw your cousin until an hour ago,” she said. “You—Mrs. Cheviot, you do not tell me that you responded to the advertisement which my brother caused to be—”
“Oh, no! It was all a mistake. I am a governess. I came to take up a position in quite another household, and, in error, stepped into your brother’s carriage, which was waiting at the coach stop. But why I have allowed myself to be thrust into marrying your dreadful cousin I cannot tell! I think I must be as mad as your brother!”
“Well, it is all very odd,” said John, “but if Carlyon thought you should marry Cheviot you may depend upon it you have done the right thing. You must not be thinking that he is mad. Indeed, I can’t think how you should do so, for I never knew anyone with a better understanding. I will go and fetch the curricle.”
Elinor had perforce to acquiesce, and in a very few minutes was stepping up once more into this vehicle. John was careful to wrap the rug securely about her, and drove off, holding the horses to a steady trot.
“You know, if you should not object, I should be very glad to know how all this business came about,” he suggested.
She told him her share in the evening’s events. He listened in a good deal of surprise, and his comments were those of a sensible man. He had a deliberate way of speaking, and she thought that he resembled Carlyon more nearly than did his youngest brother. In appearance, he was very like him, although half a head shorter. Both air and address were good, and his manners were conciliating. Elinor found it easy to confide in him, for although he appeared to be quite uncritical of Carlyon’s
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