Poetry and Perfection 6

 

Chapter 6

 

Elvira remained to gather up shawls that had been shed, as Kitty started pushing Sophie back towards the Bottringham town house.

It was unfortunate that Caroline Spenlove was also walking in the park, accompanied by her cronies, Emma Evrington, Elizabeth Braithewaite, and Susanna Akenfield.

“Well, well, look who it is,” sneered Caroline Spenlove. “It’s the country cousin, and now we know the deep dark secret. She preys on Mr. Bottringham by taking advantage of his good nature and by threatening to reveal that there’s imbecility in her side of the family.”

“What is this odd girl talking about?” asked Sophie.

“Miss Spenlove is fond of making up her own mind about familial connections, the level of poverty, and, it appears, falls into the trap of the foolish to believe that physical disability also equates to mental ineptitude,” sneered Kitty.

“Come on, Caroline, you’ve caused yourself enough problems already,” said Susanna Akenfield, who could be pleasant enough if separated from the clique.

“I think three of them would be Bindweed, Cleavers, and Gorse,” giggled Sophie. Kitty had illustrated Elizabeth Braithwaite as gorse, both for her prickly exterior and because of the aphorism ‘when gorse is out of bloom, kissing is out of fashion,’ the corollary being that gorse is rarely out of bloom. It seemed to Kitty apt, having caught Miss Braithwaite kissing three different young men.

“Well, if that doesn’t prove she’s wanting, I don’t know what might,” said Miss Spenlove.

“It’s a private code,” snapped Kitty. “And I’m not going to introduce her to such ninnies as you.”

“Why don’t we tip her out of the chair?” suggested Miss Braithewaite.

“If you try, her brother will have the law on you all for assault,” said Kitty, moving between Sophie and the other girls.

Elvira caught up.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“Miss Braithwaite threatened to tip Sophie out of her chair,” said Kitty.

“She had better not,” said Elvira. “I will have no hesitation in going to Bow Street over an assault upon my sister.”

“Your sister?” demanded Miss Spenlove.

“Yes, my sister. Who was hurt in the same accident that killed our parents,” said Elvira. “Go away. We don’t want to talk to any of you; you are all most unpleasant.”

“We want no trouble,” said Miss Akenfield.

“Then, I suggest, if you want no trouble, Miss Akenfield,  you should cut your connection with the three Erinyes,” said Kitty, who had heard her brother describing them thus, and had pestered him until he had explained the Furies, or Erinyes. Susanna Akenfield was a girl on the edge of society who clung to the cronies in order to be part of someone’s set.

“I hear you,” said Miss Akenfield. “I must walk with them, for the chaperonage.”

“Or, you could walk with us, and my brother will see you home,” said Elvira.

Miss Akenfield blushed.

“I… yes, thank you,” she said.

This was the point at which Miss Spenlove shrieked, “TRAITOR!” and went for her former friend with nails.

Kitty stuck out a foot, tripping the girl so that she fell headlong onto the ground.

“Are you unhurt, Miss Akenfield?” she asked.

“Y… yes,” said Susanna Akenfield. “Thank you! I… that was a shock!”

“Hot chocolate,” said Elvira, hastening the group towards her own home.

Hugo Bottringham greeted the girls and raised an eyebrow to see one he associated with those he usually avoided, as Sophie’s nurse took her to clean her up.

“Miss Akenfield made a public break from the Erinyes,” said Kitty. “We had to protect her from that Spenlove virago, who was going for her eyes.”

“Far too young to be on the ton,” drawled Hugo. “And I doubt she’ll be old enough for the next thirty years or so.”

“Miss Akenfield, why do those three girls hate us so much?” asked Elvira. “And you, why did you go along with them?”

“Oh, nobody hates you, Miss Bottringham,” assured the girl. “I… please call me Susanna.”

“I suppose we should make you free with our names, too, but only if you don’t slip back into the ill-will you have displayed.  And explain what you mean; when there are attacks, including physical attacks, on my dear friend, and on my sister, how can I assume anything but that they hate us all?”

Susanna blinked.

“Why… it is because they think that Mr. Bottringham pays too much attention to… to Kitty, which takes it away from them.”

Elvira laughed.

“He’d find a pug dog in a dress to talk to, rather than talk to any of them, which isn’t flattering to Kitty in the least, but Kitty’s brother is a friend of his, so as far as Hugo is concerned, Kitty is like his friend’s brother,” said Elvira. “At least, I think that’s how he feels, knowing that she is not supposed to be on the marriage mart. It’s less, I think, that he is showing her attention than that he is avoiding them, knowing that she is safe for not being one of the girls trying to marry him.”

“Oh!” said Susanna. Then she blushed. “So, he is avoiding me, too.”

“Yes,” said Elvira, bluntly. “You giggle at him like a lovelorn hyaena.”

“Hyaena?” said Susanna.

“They make a sound like a cackling laugh,” said Kitty. “And they chase around behind lions to feed on carrion.”

“Ugh, they sound horrible,” said Susanna, in horror.

“Well, that’s how my brother feels about females gathering round him as if they want to tear him up into steaks,” said Elvira. “It makes him very uncomfortable. It makes me uncomfortable when nasty old roués leer at me, so I understand.”

“We… we make him feel like that?” stammered Susanna.

“Yes,” said Hugo, coming back in. “I am not an object. I am a person. I find it disturbing to be wanted as a husband because of my wealth and position in society. I want to marry someone I can like. Someone who knows what my interests are and cares about them. And, frankly, I have seen little of that to date in the young women of the ton. Don’t you want a husband who cares what you think?”

“I don’t know,” said Susanna. “Mama says I want a husband who is well off enough to pay for me to do what I want.”

“And what if he thinks that you want is a waste of time?” asked Hugo. “What are your interests?”

“The theatre,” said Susanna.

“So, you don’t want a man who considers the theatre to be low, or immoral, or foolish.”

“Oh! I thought everyone went to the theatre.”

“No, actually, there are people who consider plays and opera to be beneath them,” said Hugo. “You need to ask a man what his interests are.”

“Oh!” said Susanna. “I thought after people got married, they didn’t spend any more time together.”

“Well, that’s a sad reflection on marriage à la mode,” said Hugo, dryly. “I’ll have a maid get ready, and I’ll drive you home, Miss Akenfield.”

Kitty and Elvira went to Sophie’s room for afternoon tea.

“Those girls are ridiculous,” said Kitty. “They should realise that if your brother wanted to spend time with them, he would make sure to do so.”

“He can be single-minded when he feels like it,” said Elvira.

 

oOoOo

 

Miss Spenlove reported only that she had tripped on a tree root in the park, to account for a muddied appearance and a bruise; she was afraid that it would come out that she had been willing to go along with tipping Miss Sophie Bottringham out of her chair. She had no intention of further damaging her standing in public!  But it did not endear Kitty to her.

Hugo had explained to Susanna’s parents that she had bravely stood up for his younger sister, and the Akenfields found themselves invited to more events than otherwise, and the other three families found that invitations fell away. A query from a young man who admired Hugo regarding starting a courtship with Miss Elizabeth Braithewaite had only to have Hugo lift an eyebrow, and say, ‘Really? I can’t, of course, receive her, you know,’ to scotch what Miss Braithewaite’s parents had hoped to be an eligible proposal. Any stories the three spread would now be ignored as malicious tittle-tattle.

 

oOoOo

 

“Miss Bottringham, I could get you and your sister into my curricle if you think a drive in the fresh air would do her good,” said Stephen, to Elvira. “I should like to take you for a drive, and I would feel damned churlish if I did not offer Miss Sophie one as well.”

“Oh, Mr. Worthington, you are all that is kind, and I know my brother approves of your driving, but Sophie and I both have a horror of vehicles since the accident that killed our parents. It’s why I have turned you down before, not out of a lack of desire for your company,” said Elvira. “It is enclosed carriages which are the worst, but… but sporting carriages do not feel safe.”

“I say! What a cursed shame for both of you; I was sure she might like a change of scenery,” said Stephen.

Elvira sighed.

“I’m sure she would, if only one might be magically transported there.”

Stephen considered.

“Suppose I got a landaulet, low to the ground and stable, and of course, the hoods open, or if it came to rain, one hood might be less threatening, and I promised to drive slowly, do you think that would suit? I should like to help you both to overcome your fear, for of course, one cannot go anywhere without a carriage.”

“I would not wish to put you to any expense, and then find out it still does not answer,” said Elvira.

“No worries, I will see what I can pick up,” said Stephen.

Stephen was keen on coaching to the extent that he had built his own curricle from parts acquired from crashes, with new wheels, and he roped in Hugo and Kitty to help build a hybrid vehicle from an elderly shooting-brake and a landaulet tipped off the road, which afforded comfortable squabs and a folding canopy, and Stephen specified large, broad wheels for it for added stability, with roller bearings and the most modern of leaf springs. His creation looked like nothing on earth, but it negotiated bumpy roads with scarcely a bump transferred to the seat. He harnessed it to a pair, not so much for speed, but to give the ability to accelerate out of any trouble, and to avoid drag going up or down hill. He also fitted an automatic brake on the wheels, as on the mail coaches, so he could brake himself coming downhill, without needing a groom to undertake the dangerous task of walking behind with the brake still used by many.

“Well, I’ve learned a lot,” said Kitty, assiduously greasing the bearings for Stephen to insert in the wheel hub.  “Even if I’ve not been much help save to hold things whilst you gentlemen do the hard work.”

“But do you understand why it is safe?” asked Stephen.

“A centre of weight low to the ground is stable, and the rear wheels are as high as the sides to throw the weight lower, and the front wheels are smaller to add a second pair of wheels for control and to stabilise the vehicle; and they are close to the rear wheels because a long wheel-base is unstable,” said Kitty, obediently. “Being broad, the wheels are less likely to tip, and incidentally, you will pay a lower toll, because they charge more for narrow wheels which chew up the road, and that I worked out for myself.”

“Good girl,” said Stephen. “It’s the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen, but it’s a work of beauty because it works.”

“I appreciate what you are doing for my sisters, you know, Stephen,” said Hugo, who was now on first name terms with a man he was beginning to call his best friend. The only young man he had ever known who had taken Elvira’s fear of driving as a challenge to make a better carriage rather than to try to persuade her that he was a better driver.

“I suggest tooling around the park very slowly at first,” said Kitty.

“Yes, just what I was thinking,” said Stephen.

“You know some people will laugh at you,” said Hugo.

“Let them,” said Stephen. “Do you think I care?”

Hugo put a hand on his shoulder, with a squeeze, which spoke volumes.

“Oh, Stephen, I am proud of you,” said Kitty. “A year ago, you would have jumped naked from Tower Bridge on Christmas day rather than be seen in a quiz of a carriage.”

“I’m learning to put other people first; and it’s the drive that counts, not the look,” said Stephen. “I was considering, if Sophie is happy, building her a better wheeled chair, and maybe one with a canopy for inclement weather, and which can be harnessed to a large dog, so she can go out and drive herself.”

“It’s a way down the road, but it would be wonderful,” said Hugo, who had tears in his eyes.