“You are very much attached to your profession?”
“I would sooner be an officer in the Blues,”[25] he avowed cheerfully, “than a duke. There is all the style of a position at Court, and the elegance of such a set, aligned with the freedom and adventure of military service; the command of men, and the camaraderie of one's fellows — all things which I find delightful. I owe much to my uncle's goodness, Miss Austen, for it was he who purchased my commission.”
“Did he?” I enquired, though it was no more than I had suspected. “Then he served you better than your brother, Lieutenant. Had the Earl treated you both in a similar fashion, he should have made you a clerk, to be shut up indoors in every season — your inclination being so clearly in the opposite direction.”
“And so George has availed himself of your kindness, and poured out his grievances,” the Lieutenant observed, amused. “He is never done lamenting his thwarted hopes, though he knows my uncle thought better of his choice, and has left him a living. It seems to me that George suffers vastly in parting with regret — though he but exchanges it for his heart's desire. Perhaps he has grown fond of the attitudes of blighted youth.”
“Mr. Hearst is to receive a living under the Earl's will?” I exclaimed, in some surprise.
“So I believe, though I have not seen the document,” the Lieutenant replied, “my cousin Fitzroy and his solicitors being too bound up in affairs of the estate to give us all a proper reading. But my uncle informed my brother of the fact, upon his return from his wedding trip; marital bliss had made the Earl even more generous. In amending the will's terms to provide for the Countess, my uncle attended to George's affairs as well. If there is cause for any rejoicing in the melancholy event of the Earl's demise, my brother may justly claim it.”
“Indeed,” I said distractedly, my thoughts in some confusion. Had Mr. Hearst ignored this point in conversing with me, out of a natural delicacy? Or from the counsel of a guilty conscience? For he clearly benefited from his uncle's death; and that death had been achieved not long after that gentleman had imparted the news of his inheritance. Given the violence of argument I overheard the night of the Scargrave ball, Mr. Hearst's entire aspect appeared worthy of probing.
I suddenly became sensible of the Lieutenant's narrow gaze, and endeavoured to shift our tête-à-tête to lighter matters.
“Your commission in the Blues, now, Lieutenant — it affords you an added advantage in your role as a rival for Miss Delahoussaye's affections, in that she dearly loves the military profession,” I said, with an attempt at playfulness. “And being attached to the Royal Household, you are unlikely to serve in garrison towns far from places and people of fashion; this must decidedly recommend you to her mother, who will often make of the two of you a third.”
I had meant the remark in jest, of a piece with his own raillery against that lady; but he flushed and regarded me earnestly.
“You have discerned, then, Miss Fanny's partiality for me?” he asked anxiously. “I would that it were less pronounced. But she was never a lady to conceal her affections from the object of them, though propriety would counsel such. I cannot expect her to do so now, even before those less intimate with my family.”
“My apologies, sir,” I said hastily. “I spoke rashly, when I intended to speak lightly. As a stranger to Scargrave, I should have held my tongue. One cannot be a part of a household without sometimes giving offence, however, and that when one least intends it.”
The Lieutenant ran a gloved hand through his hair, his expression remained troubled. “It is just that you have touched upon a point that I have been at pains to avoid. I may have reacted thus too warmly. Madame Delahoussaye's dearest object is to affiance her daughter to my cousin Fitzroy, whose fortune may be said to eclipse Fanny's own; but Lord Scargrave's accustomed aloofness has told against him, and so Miss Fanny searches elsewhere for flattery.”
“Which you certainly know how to supply,” I said reprovingly. “Life at Court has at least taught you this. But I am surprised, sir; can even such a gallant as you win her young heart in but a few days?”
“I have been acquainted with Miss Delahoussaye some seven months,” he replied, “full as long as she has known my cousin. During the last London Season, I was as much a party to their revels as it was possible to be.”
“And it being summer, and she a pretty girl, you thought it no harm to engage in light flirtation. I see how it was.”
“Her attentions were marked whenever we met.” Tom Hearst laughed shortly. “Her attentions! Can such a word encompass Fanny's absurdity? She has completely thrown herself in my way. No man would scruple to take what Fanny offers, Miss Austen. Certainly not I. Though it pains me to admit it. I must regard myself with contempt, for succumbing to physical charms, where character and sense are so lacking.”
Such frankness! The Lieutenant hesitated not in revealing himself as utterly wanting in principle. But his careless derogation of Fanny Delahoussaye was such as another lady could not suffer to pass in silence, even one who esteemed her as little as I.
“And since her fortune is not a small one,” I observed, “you should have been a further fool to offer coldness in the face of such warmth. Self-interest has been your sole mover where Miss Delahoussaye is concerned.”
“You are possessed of decided opinions, Miss Austen! Would that they were formed of less truth,” the Lieutenant said, with a doubtful look. “But too late I took the measure of her grasping mother's plans, and hesitated lest I offend Fitzroy, whose perfect command of countenance allows no one to suspect whether he is partial to the lady or no. Were Fitzroy to have formed honourable intentions towards Fanny, I should have done him a serious wrong; but to speak of it with such an one as the Viscount — the Earl — is impossible. I determined to put myself in the clear and leave him to his chances.”
The Lieutenant pretends, now, to have no notion that Fitzroy Payne's affections were already engaged elsewhere, as he so clearly intimated during our dance at the Scargrave ball. A curious omission, as though Tom Hearst would wipe clean the blot of his former impropriety.
“Whatever Fanny's fortune,” I said, recovering myself, “the retention of your cousin's good opinion must be said to have greater value.”
“Indeed.” He pursed his lips thoughtfully. “But I fear I tarried too long. Miss Delahoussaye's teasing ways have lately brought the wrath of her mother upon my head. Madame has had the temerity to suggest that I have encouraged her daughter in displays that offend propriety!**
“I am all amazement,” I said, with deliberate irony.
“You would laugh,” Tom Hearst replied, “but Madame went so far as to request it of my uncle before his death that I be barred from Scargrave for the Christmas season.”
This was news, indeed. The result of the rumoured duel, perhaps?
“Did she!” I cried. “I had not an idea of it! And what did your uncle reply?”
“I remain here, as you see,” the Lieutenant said, smiling, “and feel myself completely free to devote myself to others more worthy of my interest.”
And so we turned for home, absorbed in forming a plan for further riding lessons in subsequent days. Lieutenant Hearst appears eager for my company; and though he is an untrustworthy rogue, he is charming enough for all that. He amuses me, and I am in no danger from his attentions; I have too much sense to credit the Lieutenant's flattery, particularly when I feel it to be offered by design.
Thus, we have struck a bargain, of sorts, though the terms remain unspoken. My skill as a horsewoman shall benefit from his attentions; and in turn I shall be much persecuted on the subject of Sir William Reynolds. The why of Tom Hearst's interest in the magistrate, however, eludes me.
25
The Royal Horse Guards, one of three cavalry regiments charged with guarding the Royal Household, were nicknamed the Blues due to the color of their uniforms. —