Author: Georgette Heyer
Category: Historical
Go to read content：https://readnovelfree.com/p/35282_4
Mr Trevor offered no comment, but comprehension was writ so large upon his face that Alverstoke said: ‘Just so! I know what you are thinking, Charles, and you are perfectly right: it is time I gave the fair Fanny her congé.’ He sighed: ‘A nice bit of game, but as birdwitted as she’s avaricious.’
Again Mr Trevor offered no comment. He would have been hard put to it to have made one, for his thoughts on the delicate subject were tangled. As a moralist, he could only deplore his employer’s way of life; as one deeply imbued with chivalrous ideals, he pitied the fair Fanny; but as one who was fully aware of the extent of his lordship’s generosity towards the lady, he was obliged to own that she had no cause for complaint.
Charles Trevor, one of the younger members of a large family, owed his present position to the circumstance of his father’s having been appointed, when newly ordained, to the post of tutor and general mentor to the present Marquis’s father, accompanying him on a protracted Grand Tour. A comfortable living was not his only reward: his noble pupil remained sincerely attached to him; stood as godfather to his eldest son; and reared his own son in the vague belief that the Reverend Laurence Trevor had a claim upon his patronage.
So, when the Reverend Laurence had ventured to suggest to the present Marquis that Charles was a suitable candidate for the post of secretary, Alverstoke had accepted him with far more readiness than Charles had felt in becoming a member of his household. Charles had no desire to enter the Church, but he was a young man of serious mind and unimpeachable morals, and nothing he had heard of Alverstoke led him to expect that his appointment would prove to be anything but a mortification of the flesh. But as he had, besides commonsense, a good deal of filial affection, and knew that to a clergyman of moderate substance it was no easy task to provide for a sixth son, he kept his misgivings to himself, assured his father that he would do his best not to disappoint his expectations, and derived what consolation he could from the reflection that when he was an inmate of Alverstoke House he must surely find it easier to discover and to grasp a golden opportunity than while he kicked his heels in a country parsonage.
Since his taste ran to politics, the golden opportunity had not so far offered itself, the Marquis not sharing his ambition, and consequently making infrequent appearances in the Upper House; but he was allowed to write such brief speeches as his patron felt that it behoved him to utter, and even, now and then, to favour him with his own political convictions.
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Furthermore, he had found it quite impossible to dislike Alverstoke. While he was given no reason to suppose that Alverstoke was interested in his concerns, he found him to be as unexacting as he was amiable, and never disagreeably high in the instep. Comparing notes with a college-friend, in a similar situation, whose employer appeared to regard him as a cross between a black slave and an upper servant, Charles knew himself to be fortunate. Alverstoke could give an annihilating snub to some encroaching mushroom, but if his secretary erred he raked him down in a manner which was unexceptionable, since it conveyed no suggestion of social superiority. Charles’s friend had curt commands flung at him; Charles received civil requests, generally accompanied by one of his lordship’s more attractive smiles. Try as Charles would, he could not resist Alverstoke’s charm, any more than he could withhold admiration for his horsemanship, and his proficiency in a great many sporting activities.
‘I collect,’ said the Marquis, faint amusement in his eyes, ‘from your hesitant air and sheepish demeanour, that you feel it to be your duty to put me in mind of yet another obligation. Take my advice, and don’t do it! I shall take it very unkind in you, and very likely fly up into the boughs.’
A grin dispelled the gravity of Mr Trevor’s countenance. ‘You never do, sir,’ he said simply. ‘And it isn’t an obligation – at least, I don’t think it is! Only I thought you would like to know of it.’
‘Oh, did you? In my experience, whenever those words are uttered they are the prelude to something I would liefer not know.’
‘Yes,’ said Mr Trevor ingenuously, ‘but I wish you will read this letter! As a matter of fact, I promised Miss Merriville that you would!’
‘And who,’ demanded his lordship, ‘is Miss Merriville?’
‘She said you would know, sir.’
‘Really, Charles, you should know me better than to suppose that I carry in my head the names of all the –’ He stopped, his brows drawing together. ‘Merriville,’ he repeated thoughtfully.
‘I believe, sir, some sort of connection of yours.’
‘A very remote sort! What the devil does she want?’
Mr Trevor offered him a sealed letter. He took it, but said severely: ‘You would be very well served if I put it into the fire, and left you to explain how it was that you were not, after all, able to see to it that I read it!’ He broke the seal and opened the letter. It did not take him long to master its contents. He raised his eyes when he came to the end, and directed a look of pained enquiry at Mr Trevor. ‘Are you a trifle out of sorts, Charles? On the toodle last night, and not feeling quite the thing today?’
‘No, of course not!’ said Mr Trevor, shocked.
‘Well, what, in heaven’s name, has made you suddenly queer in your attic?’
‘I’m not! I mean –’
‘You must be. Never before, in the three years of our association, have you failed to make my excuses to my more importunate relatives! As for encouraging the dirty dishes amongst them –’
‘That I am persuaded they are not, sir! I fancy they may not be affluent, but –’
‘Dirty dishes,’ repeated his lordship firmly. ‘When one considers that my sister believes herself to be living quite out of the world in Grosvenor Place, what can one think of persons owning to Upper Wimpole Street? And if –’ he glanced down at the letter again – ‘and if this F. Merriville is the daughter of the only member of the family with whom I ever had the slightest acquaintance you may depend upon it she hasn’t a souse, and hopes I may be so obliging as to remedy this.’
‘No, no!’ Mr Trevor said.
‘I hope I know better than to encourage such persons as that!’
‘So do I,’ agreed his lordship. He lifted a quizzical eyebrow. ‘Friends of yours, Charles?’
‘I never saw them before in my life, sir,’ replied Mr Trevor stiffly. ‘I should perhaps assure your lordship that I should consider it grossly improper to try to introduce any of my friends to your notice.’
‘Well, don’t poker up about it! I really didn’t mean to insult you,’ said Alverstoke mildly.
‘No, sir, of course not!’ Mr Trevor said, mollified. ‘I beg pardon! The thing is – Well, I had best explain to you how it came about that I did meet Miss Merriville!’
‘Do!’ invited Alverstoke.
‘She brought the letter herself,’ disclosed Mr Trevor. ‘The carriage drew up just as I was about to enter the house – you see, you gave me very little to do today, so I thought you wouldn’t object to it if I went out to purchase some new neck-cloths for myself!’