The Nonesuch

“He could hardly have seen him with anyone else’s eyes!” snapped Miss Trent, her temper fraying. She controlled it, and said in a cooler tone: “You had better put all these garments away, Maria, and make the room tidy again. I am persuaded I need not tell you that we rely upon your discretion. Mr Underhill, pray come downstairs! We must try to think what is best for us to do.”

He followed her rather sulkily, saying, as he shut the door of the morning parlour: “I know what I am going to do—and if you hadn’t come in just then I should be gone by now, for there’s no time to be wasted!”

She had sunk into a chair, her elbows on the table, and her hands pressed to her temples, but she raised her head at this: “Gone where?”

“Harrogate, of course!”

“Harrogate? For heaven’s sake, why?”

“Lord, ma’am, the fellow can’t drive all the way to the Border in a whisky! Depend upon it, he’s hired a chaise, and where else could he do that but in Harrogate?”

“Good God, are you suggesting that they are eloping to Gretna Green?” she exclaimed incredulously.

“Of course I am! It’s just the sort of thing Tiffany would do—you can’t deny that!”

“It is not at all the sort of thing Mr Calver would do, however! Nor do I think that Tiffany could by any means be persuaded to elope with a mere commoner! She has far larger plans, I assure you! No, no: that’s not the answer to this riddle.”

“Then what is the answer?” he demanded. “Yes, and why didn’t she go with you to Nethersett? You told me at breakfast that you meant to take her along with you!”

“She wished to visit Patience ...” Miss Trent’s voice faltered, and died.

Courtenay gave a scornful snort. “That’s a loud one! Wished to visit Patience, indeed! To beg her pardon, I daresay?”

“To make amends. When you told her that Mr Edward Banningham had spread the true story of what happened in Leeds—Oh, how much I wish you’d kept your tongue! You might have known she would do something outrageous! But so should I have known! I should never have left her: I am shockingly to blame! But she seemed so quiet this morning, scheming how to overcome her set-back—”

“Ay, the sly cat! Scheming how to be rid of you, ma’am, so that she could run off with Calver!”

She was silent, staring with knitted brows straight before her. She said suddenly: “No. She did go to the Rectory: recollect that her riding-habit was lying on the floor, with her whip, and her gloves! Something must have happened there. Patience—no, Patience wouldn’t rebuff her! But if Mrs Chartley gave her a scold? But what could she have said to drive the child into running away? Mr Underhill, I think I should go to the Rectory immediately, and discover—”

“No!” he interrupted forcefully. “I won’t have our affairs blabbed all round the district!”

“It’s bound to be talked of. And I’m persuaded Mrs Chartley—”

“Not if I fetch her back! Which I promise you I mean to do, for my mother’s sake!” He added rather grandly: “I shall be obliged to call that fellow out of course, but I shall think of some pretext for it.”

At any other time she must have laughed, but she was too busy racking her brains to pay much heed to him. “Something must have happened,” she repeated. “Something that made her feel she couldn’t remain here another instant. Oh, good God, Lindeth! He must have offered for Patience—and she told Tiffany!”

Courtenay gave a whistle of surprise. “So that’s serious, is it? Well, by Jove, if ever I expected to see her given her own again! Lord, she’d be as mad as fire! No wonder she ran off with Calver! Trying to hoax everyone into thinking it was him she wanted all along!”

She was momentarily daunted, but she came about again, “Yes, she might do that, in one of her wild fits, but he would not. Wait! Only let me think!” She pressed her hands over her eyes, trying to cast her mind back.

“Well, if she isn’t going to Gretna Green, where else can she be going?” he argued.

Her hands dropped. “What a fool I am! To London, of course! That’s what she wanted—she begged me to take her back to the Burfords! Of course that’s the answer! She must have persuaded Mr Calver to take her to Leeds—perhaps even to escort her to London!” She read disbelief in Courtenay’s face, and said: “If she made him believe that she was being hardly used here—you know how she always fancies herself to be ill-treated as soon as her will is crossed! Recollect that he doesn’t know her as we do! She has shown him her prettiest side, too—and she can be very engaging when she chooses! Or—or perhaps he has done no more than put her on the stage, in charge of the guard.”

“Stage!” exclaimed Courtenay contemptuously. “I wish I may see Tiffany condescending to a stage-coach! A post-chaise-and-four is what she’d demand! And much hope I have of catching it!”