the scholar's sweetheart 17

 sorry sorry I started doing my emails first. bad me! 

 

Chapter 17

 

“Go and wash and dress, Cornelius,” said Imogen’s crisp voice.  “You shall have the services of Spalding, who is pining without Evelyn to valet for, and I’ll see Shuri to my room to dress in something, as she’s not far off my size, and I’ve unearthed a wig which will do. You’re de trop. And remember to have Spalding pack valises for Evelyn and Jasper as well.  Woodlock is staying with his people to keep them calm.”

“My clothes! They were all burned,” said Shuri.

“As well we’re about the same size,” said Imogen, calmly. “I know I don’t have many colours which work well on you, but I can wear some yellows which look fabulous with your skin tones. And some apricots.”

“I can’t take your clothes....”

“Shuri, you and I share a son, which makes you my sister. Of course you can. I can get more.”

“I don’t know that a wig....”

“I was thinking that if I padded a cap and sewed curls to it, it would work admirably. You wouldn’t have liked the wig itself; it’s a full-bottomed wig belonging to Evelyn’s great great grandsire, and if the portraits are anything to go by, he looked like a pirate.”

Shuri sniggered.

“I’ve seen some statues of men with those awful wigs,” she said.

“I know; but the hair is still good, and I can cut locks from it, because your hair will probably grow back curly.”

“If it’s not burned too badly,” said Shuri, anxiously. “Burns can leave skin too scarred.”

“I think it took the hair and protected the scalp somewhat,” said Imogen. “I checked out you and Corny quite thoroughly, and I think the follicles are undamaged, there was only a thin layer of skin which came off with the crisp hair. Otherwise he’d have to go around looking like a very young Friar Tuck rather than like an escaped Putto.”

Shuri managed a giggle.

“Is that the singular of putti? Aren’t they the sort of cherubs some people put on tombstones?”

“Yes, and on baroque swags on curtain tops and furniture in the sort of noble homes I prefer to avoid,” said Imogen. “How much hair do you want to show? I thought this lace trimmed cap would do?”

“As long as it looks natural, do as seems fit,” said Shuri. “I don’t want to look a quiz. Having a burned face is bad enough.”

“I don’t like to put a curl of hair over the burn, in case it hurts,” said Imogen.

“Can you put it so it doesn’t lay against the skin? I’m vain enough to care,” said Shuri.

“I can do that,” said Imogen. “I’ll put hair under the cap, too, to add to the padding and to show through, and then several layers of folded muslin to keep your scalp comfortable and a dressing under all.”

“Bless you,” said Shuri.

“Gloves will cover your dressings on your arms, too.”

“What, are you trying to turn me into a lady?”

Imogen gave Shuri a straight look.

“If you choose to marry Cornelius, though he won’t pressure you to dress a Giorgio, you would make life easier,” she said.

“Ah, yes, of course,” said Shuri. “Something I need to consider. Your gown is comfortable.”

“Yes, I could see that having to wear panniers would be horrible, and a reason to avoid marrying a Giorgio,” said Imogen.

Shuri flushed.

“And even so, I might do so, if I loved him enough,” she said, softly.

“Do you?” asked Imogen, bluntly.

“I... I am not sure,” said Shuri. “He is amiable, educated, but does not talk down to me; he was interested in my thoughts upon ‘Pride and Prejudice,’ by ‘A Lady,’ and though we disagreed somewhat over Charlotte’s choice to marry the repellent Mr. Collins, he does not hold that his view must be superior for being a man, but said that as a woman, I could more readily put myself in Charlotte’s position. It throws many lights on his character; will you mind if I discuss that? Since you are busy making me a wig.”

“Not at all,” said Imogen. “I take it that he is of the view that, so long as Collins is not actually likely to beat his wife for real and imaginary transgressions, the acceptance of financial security must count heavily in her decision?”

“Yes; and I would rather die an old maid than marry someone who would erode my spirit, drop by relentless drop, until I became no more than an echo of the sound of him dripping.”

“This being the sort of beau my grandmother wanted to palm me off onto, I agree wholeheartedly,” said Imogen. “How beautifully you put that!  What you have to realise is that Cornelius is not a wealthy man. Therefore, for him, financial security looms large, as he has been brought up having to count both sides of a groat twice. I grew up wealthy and you grew up without any wealth at all, and in a way it engenders a similar outlook; a carelessness about wealth which either comes easily, or doesn’t come at all, and therefore might as well be ignored. He is thinking along the lines of what he would do if Charlotte was a dependent of his, his sister, for example, or rather, what he ought to do.  Being loosened up will do him no harm. You should show him, if you get the opportunity, that you can snare rabbits and gather wild food and survive when money is short, it will show him that you don’t have to depend on him earning. On the other hand, you should appreciate his hard work to give you the sort of life he thinks you should have. Men are very fragile, you know.”

“So, he would palm off a sister onto someone who is not actually bad but who has nothing to recommend him so he could be independent?” Shuri scowled, and winced as this hurt.

“No, you misunderstand me,” said Imogen. “He would want a sister or daughter of his to be happy, but he would also want her to be settled in case anything happened to him, so she could not rely on his earning power. But he would listen to any plaint that this was not what she wanted.  His concept is that a clergyman has a dependable, if low, income. I think since his brother caused so much trouble, he would be more open to the idea that this is not always enough. He has not seen, as I have, how a woman can be browbeaten by a man who controls the purse strings – I really worry about my cousins Marjorie and Dinah.”

“I can tell him about that. Indeed, I did, I said that I was free for the first time since my father was killed, and I would not willingly enter a relationship where a man would expect me to be a shadow of himself. He asked if I thought he would do so; I said, I do not know. Because I did not know him well enough. I said that as he asked my opinion, I thought he would not, and he seemed much relieved.”

“I think he would try to give you as much freedom as possible,” said Imogen. “He knows how much Jasper values his freedom. I had to tell Evelyn how it was going to be, because he kept trying to protect me from himself. People like him and Cornelius are brought up to believe a man is the protector, only Evelyn learned one thing from his mother and tutors and was shown a contradiction by his father, which has made Evelyn even more protective. I agree with him and do what I want.”

Shuri sniggered.

“Well, I’m glad you went out the day you took down Fowk, despite, as I understand it, the marquis’s strictures while he was at large.”

Imogen went red.

“I plain forgot,” she said, in a whisper. “But I had to go, Phebe had no decent clothes. And it’s important for little girls to have nice dresses.”

“Yes, indeed. That is important. I heard you took a groom, too, with a blunderbuss?”

“Yes, and the fool meekly threw it down!” said Imogen. “I confess, I was as furious with him as I was with Fowk at that moment, and I just went ahead and drove at Fowk. I thought he’d leap off the road and then my groom could arrest him, but I think the outcome was more favourable.”

“He was arrogant; I doubt he could believe you would actually drive him down.”

“I don’t know why. Many an aristocrat would do so; people like Evelyn’s father wouldn’t hesitate.”

“But you’re a woman and to be intimidated; because he and Crowy Heron are the same. Oh! And Jasper is in his clutches...” Her eyes filled with tears.

“Jasper is resourceful. Evelyn, Evergreen, and a nice dog called Bess are looking for him. I can only suppose some fool has decided they are all gypsies on trouble bent and has arrested them, or something; but Evelyn has letters on him that will prove who he is, and even if Crowy Heron has been tiresome, nobody is likely to do anything like hang them out of hand.”

“I hope you are right,” said Shuri. “But I want to go and see...”

“I wish I could go, too,” said Imogen. “But I don’t want to leave Lementina.  I’d take Phebe if it were just a question of her, but it will be a day or two before we can be sure Lementina is out of danger.”

“And bless you for that,” said Shuri. “I will deputise for you as well as I might.”

 

oOoOo

 

 Cornelius felt better for a shave, which he permitted Spalding to undertake, and a careful wash, and clean clothes made him feel even better.

“If I might suggest, Mr. Reckitt,” said Spalding, “It might not be stylish, but a night cap under your hat might minimise discomfort.”

“You’re probably right,” said Cornelius. “And I’d look more ridiculous bleeding into my hat.”

“If I may say so, sir, I do not think the burn bad enough to prevent your hair from growing back,” said Spalding. “Where it is not covered by the dressing, it is apparent that the hair has broken off short of the scalp, and that is encouraging.”

“Well, if it does not, other men have pattern balding, and at least I have it in a good cause,” said Cornelius.

“Indeed, sir, and the gypsies very complimentary of your courage, and promptness in saving one they all love, as well as their chieftess,” said Spalding.

“And letting down Jasper,” said Cornelius.

“Oh, no, sir!” said Spalding. “Mr. Jasper would far rather that you save his mother and the old lady. And you should know it.”

Cornelius bowed his head.

He knew it was true.

“A shame a man cannot split himself in two, eh, Spalding?” he said, trying to keep his tone light, but the bitterness escaped.

“Oh, no, sir, that would be most ineligible,” said Spalding. “All those entrails would spoil the set of even the best tailored coat.”

“Spalding, thank you,” said Cornelius. “Just what I needed to think things through in perspective.”

He came onto the landing to see Shuri, demure in dimity, with a set of ridiculous ringlets erupting from a confection of linen and lace that covered most of her head.

“Miss Lovell! I... you... I would not believe, if I did not know, that you had ever been in an accident,” said Cornelius. “You are as lovely as always.”

“You look well enough yourself, Mr. Reckitt,” said Shuri. “I trust you feel able to set out?”

“Yes; I have too many images of Evelyn getting himself into trouble,” said Cornelius. “Though it could be as simple as Crowy Heron giving him the slip and going on the run. Evelyn will not pause until he is dead, you know; he takes threats to all his family very seriously.”

“I know,” said Shuri. “And I am bothered that all of them may have been taken up by constables as brawling gypsies, and Evelyn accused of theft of his identity and any papers he has.”

“There are plenty of people who can verify who he is, but I can see some magistrates not bothering to move fast,” said Cornelius. “And I can’t help wondering what desperate straits he might go to if Jasper was.... hurt.”

“Or killed,” said Shuri. “I can face the possibility; I have been facing it. If we can face it together, it will be less overwhelming.”

Cornelius nodded.

“Yes, we shall face it together,” he said. “Shall we?” he gestured to the stairs to descend and offered his arm.

“I’m not taking your arm, and it isn’t out of perversity, it’s out of a desire not to drag healing skin off your arm or lose mine,” said Shuri.

“A time when automatic gestures of etiquette are actually out of place,” said Cornelius, pulling a comical face.

“You’re over-trained,” said Shuri.

“Yes,” said Cornelius.

 

They met Woodlock in the vestibule.

“I’ve had a carriage set up for you,” he said. “A satchel of salves and draughts and dressings, enough food for half an army, blankets and comforters, extra hay for the horses and bran to make a bran mash, a cookpot, a kettle, and some contraption with charcoal in for burning to make a fire if you aren’t capable of making a real one. Though, I suppose, making tea in the carriage is valid, as it’s perishing all of a sudden.”

“The weather has taken a nasty turn for the worse,” agreed Cornelius.

Woodlock embraced him. Both were careful of each other’s burns. Woodlock’s eyes were suspiciously damp.

“She looks good in your people’s clothes,” he said, softly. “I fancy she has chosen already, in being willing to dress Giorgio. But if you don’t take good care of her, I’m going to knock your block off.”

“I wouldn’t expect my brother to do anything else,” said Cornelius. “I want nothing more than to take good care of her; but I am also aware that this does not mean trammelling her.”

“If you understand that, then I am sure you’ll both be very happy,” said Woodlock.

 

Cornelius helped Shuri up the steps into the coach, and settled down, rapping on the side of the coach for the coachman to set the horses in motion, and head for the unknown. Woodlock had picked Collins, the head groom, who had let Imogen down in acceding to Fowk’s demands but who had learned his lesson, and it amused Cornelius that he was positively bristling with weaponry. He could see a blunderbuss, a shotgun, and a pistol on the dash as well. Collins was taking no chances.