Cuckoo Children

Chapter Seventeen

They arrived at Hanbury Pool in good time, in spite of having made but slow progress on their way there. Alice found it was a charming place -- it was a lake nestling between the surrounding hills, with woodland sloping down towards the water on one side and meadows on the opposite. The lake was the source of a stream which they had followed for a while on their way there, and which joined the sea about halfway between Metfield and Weymouth.

Some servants from Metfield Hall had arrived before them, and had already put up a marquee for the Earl's guests to sit in during their luncheon.

"Well done, Mrs. Trevor," Lord Metfield complimented his daughter's companion upon seeing these arrangements.

"I felt some of the ladies might wish to sit in the shade," Mrs. Trevor explained. "It looks like it is going to be a very warm day, and there is more room to sit on this side than in the forest over there."

Miss Pyke commended Mrs. Trevor's good sense, and took her host's arm to be conducted to the marquee.

Alice did not feel like sitting down yet. She had never spent so much time on horseback before and tired though she was she needed to walk a bit to regain the full use of her legs. So she expressed her wish to take a walk along the lakeshore, to take a closer look at a patch of water-lilies she had discovered, and to drink in the beauty of the place. Mr. and Miss Goodwin immediately consented to go with her, as did Laurent and Mr. Blake. Mrs. Trevor declined to join their party -- she was busy directing the servants and seeing to the comfort of all the guests -- and none of the other ladies appeared willing to give up their seats in the shade. Cousin Reggie, however, was all eagerness to be part of an exploration party, and followed them like an eager puppy would have followed its master. For once, none of his parents objected. They probably wanted to keep up the "happy family" pretence for the benefit of those guests not related to the Daventrys.

"This almost reminds me of home," Laurent sighed as they walked along the lake towards the water-lilies Alice had discovered. "All we need now is a boat. Wouldn't it be fun to row across the lake?"

"I had no idea you enjoyed boating, Mr. Daventry," Mr. Goodwin remarked, sounding agreeably surprised.

"A friend of mine had a small sailing-boat, so we sometimes went sailing on Lake Geneva," Laurent said. "From time to time I also hired a rowing-boat and took my mother and sister on a trip somewhere or other."

"You did not suffer from seasickness on those occasions, Lady Alice?" Mr. Blake asked, giving Alice a look of astonishment.

"I did. Which is why we did not do this very often," Alice replied. "Both my mother and brother enjoyed these outings, but it usually took me more than an hour to recover from even a short boat trip, so naturally I did not much look forward to these."

"Poor Lady Alice!" Miss Goodwin exclaimed. "You must have suffered extremely on your passage to England then!"

"So I did, but thanks to Bernadine and the ship's surgeon I survived," Alice laughed. "It was not even necessary for Mr. Blake to bribe the Captain to set us ashore in Cadiz, even though he was perfectly ready to do so."

"I say, Cousin Laurent," Reggie suddenly said, ignoring Alice's tale, "Do you think you could take my uncle's yawl out to sea then? Since you've done some sailing before? I'd love to go on a sailing trip! We could go and see places along the coast, or we could try our luck with fishing!"

"My father owns a boat?" Laurent was delighted. "I had no idea he does - I thought he hated sea-journeys as much as Alice does!"

"I don't know about that," Reggie said. "But my uncle does have a boat -- at least he used to have one, or so my Papa said."

"I must talk to him about it, then." Laurent smiled. "I admit there will be a difference between the sea and Lake Geneva on a calm afternoon, but I'd like to give it a try."

Alice gave Mr. Blake a desperate look which he interpreted correctly.

"There is indeed a great difference," he said. "Besides I am not certain Lord Metfield is still in possession of a yawl. In fact, this is the first time I have ever heard anyone mention it."

"Oh." Laurent sounded disappointed, but he was quite ready to believe Mr. Blake. If the man who handled most of Lord Metfield's business did not know about the existence of a boat, it probably did not exist. Perhaps Lord Metfield, who disliked sea journeys, had got rid of it. But why had he bought one in the first place?

Alice's thoughts on the topic were similar. Unlike Laurent, though, she hoped that her father no longer owned a boat -- if he did, it would be literally impossible to keep Laurent off it, and Alice shuddered to think of what might happen to him if he did go on sailing trips along the English coast. Sailing trips were dangerous as it was, but for anyone wishful of doing away with Laurent this would be the ideal chance of doing so and making it look like an accident; that there was such a person in existence was a fact Alice knew only too well.

For a moment Alice wondered if her uncle would actually go so far as to involve his teenage son into a plot to kill Laurent, if only by letting drop such information as might turn out useful for his purpose and depending on Reggie to pass it on. Alice did not for an instant suppose that Reggie would be a willing accomplice to murder, but it did seem strange that no one had objected to his joining their party, when his parents had taken pains to keep him away from his cousins ever since their arrival in Metfield Hall.

"Does anyone ever come here for a swim?" Laurent asked Mr. Goodwin, and interrupted Alice's reflections.

"I daresay some people do, but I don't," Mr. Goodwin replied. "The water is very cold, so I do not recommend it."

"I see. Where do people go for a swim then?"

"The sea, I suppose," Mr. Goodwin said. "I am not much of a swimmer myself, I admit -- that is to say I don't enjoy swimming. But if I wished to do so, I'd go sea-bathing in Weymouth."

"And here I thought sea-bathing didn't have much to do with swimming," Laurent laughed, and turned to Mr. Blake. "Have you ever tried it, Blake?"

"I have not, I am sorry to say. But I must admit to having enjoyed the occasional dip in the river that flows past my father's property when I was younger, so I am able to swim."

"I do wonder whether we should give sea-bathing a try," Laurent speculated. "What do you say, Alice? Shall we ask my father to take us to Weymouth for a spot of sea-bathing?"

Alice was not really in favour of the scheme, but she would have been willing to support almost any idea that put sailing out of her brother's mind.

"Why not?" she therefore asked. "Do make the suggestion -- we shall see what my father has to say to it."

Meanwhile, they had reached the water-lilies, and Miss Goodwin fell into raptures over their beauty. She regretted not having brought her sketch-book with her, scolded her brother for not having reminded her to do so, and asked Alice whether she had ever seen anything as beautiful. Alice politely agreed that she had rarely had the felicity of beholding such beauty, and, when Miss Goodwin mournfully said that she wished she could take some of the water-lilies with her, pointed out that this would be an impossible feat.

"For even if we could get one of the gentlemen to pick one for us," she said, "It would hardly keep until we reached home."

Miss Goodwin, seeing the truth of this observation, sighed mournfully and said she only wished it would be possible after all. Alice suggested they had better return to the marquee, to make sure the rest of the party were not kept waiting for their luncheon, and took Mr. Goodwin's proffered arm.

"I have not yet found my bearings here," she said to him as they walked back along the lakeside. "Which way is Metfield Hall, for instance? I know we came from there --" she pointed towards the stream they had followed for a while -- "but is this also the direction to Metfield?"

"Not quite, Lady Alice," Mr. Goodwin said and pointed in a different direction. "Metfield Hall must be there, I think. Would you agree, Mr. Blake?" he addressed her father's secretary, who followed them, looking quite gloomy.

"I believe you are quite right," Mr. Blake replied coldly. He was walking with Miss Goodwin and Laurent, while Reggie was running ahead -- no doubt wishful of being the first to reach the sweetmeats Cook had prepared for their outing. Again, Alice wondered at Mr. Blake's chilliness towards Mr. Goodwin and tried to find a sound reason for it. Unable to come to a satisfactory conclusion, she made an attempt at lightening the mood of the party and said, "Please do not laugh at me, sir, but I still find orientation in this place somewhat difficult. I know the sea is south, but once it is out of my sight I am completely lost."

Both Laurent and Mr. Goodwin did her the favour of laughing at this remark, upon which Alice pretended to take offence. Mr. Goodwin's subsequent attempts to restore her good humour were highly entertaining, and their group reached the marquee in excellent spirits -- with one exception. Alice noticed that Mr. Blake still appeared to be out of temper, and wondered why. Nothing had happened to justify his black mood, she thought, and finally decided not to let him spoil her day. If he wished to spend all day in the sulks, so be it. She preferred to just enjoy herself for once, and made up her mind to ignore him for the rest of the day.

Arriving on the picnic spot, Alice took a seat between her father and Sir Timothy Pyke, and had ample opportunity to observe Miss Pyke's attempts to make herself agreeable to her host. Alice was pleased to note that though her father treated Miss Pyke with every civility that was due to a guest, he appeared to ignore her advances. For the first time Alice became aware that her father, as a widower, would be considered a brilliant match for every young lady, and that even the not-so-young-ones might entertain reasonable hopes of capturing this prize. No matter that his first wife had been not at all the thing or that he had two grown-up children already. Lord Metfield was forty-one years old, handsome, rich, and a peer. The latter two of his assets would have been enough to make him an eligible party, but the two former ones were probably those that made him quite irresistible. Perhaps Sir Timothy had taken his sister to Dorset to make sure she did her best to win Lord Metfield. Alice was not really acquainted with the family, but she supposed this was the kind of thing a brother would do to get his unmarried sister off his hands. She wondered how long her father would manage to evade the snares set up for him. There would be more than enough, she supposed, and hoped that if he remarried he would wed a woman she could like.

Her mind was diverted from her thoughts when Sir Timothy Pyke asked her how she liked England so far. Alice readily answered him, informing him that she had not yet seen enough of the country to form a definite opinion, but that what she had seen of it was very beautiful indeed. There was a hint of reserve in her tone of voice, which Sir Timothy was quick to pick up and remark on.

He smiled, and said, "The more I see of you, Lady Alice, the more I think you resemble the Ice Queen a great deal."

"Who?" Alice enquired, casting a questioning glance at her father.

"Your mother," Lord Metfield explained. "When she was still living in London and earning her living as a singer, she went by the epithet Ice Queen. She hated it, though."

"I should think so," Alice exclaimed. "It does not fit her at all! I have yet to meet a more warm-hearted woman than my mother."

"Her circumstances were such as did not allow her to be anything but cold in those days," Lord Metfield said quietly. "Her aloofness was pure self-preservation, nothing more. There were not many who bothered with trying to look past that façade."

"I shall take your word for it, Metfield," Sir Timothy said good-humouredly. "I never really made Lady Metfield's acquaintance; I only heard her sing once or twice. No doubt she was an excellent woman. -- Lady Alice, I hope you do not take offence at what I said -- I was being thoughtless. Still, from what I remember of your mother I must say you are very much like her."

Alice reassured him, informing him that she considered it a compliment rather than an insult to be likened to her mother, and then changed the topic. She mentioned their conversation during the walk, and asked her father whether her cousin Reggie had said the truth when he had told them about his yacht.

"I used to have a boat," Lord Metfield agreed. "Your grandfather gave it to me when I was sixteen; he hoped I would develop as much of a taste for sailing as he. He was destined to suffer a disappointment, however. I hardly ever used the yawl, and once my father died I felt no longer obliged to keep it and sold it. It would have been a complete waste of money to hang on to something that only cost me a great deal but was of no use to me."

"Laurent will be sorry to hear you sold it," Alice remarked. "He hoped it might still be around somewhere."

Lord Metfield looked at his son, rather startled. "You are fond of sailing, Laurent?" he asked. Like Alice, he found that fact most alarming.

"I would not be averse to trying to sail here," Laurent replied. "I did some sailing on Lake Geneva, but I own the sea is a completely different thing."

"True," Lord Metfield said. "It is not to be underestimated, Laurent, and I hope you will not take any risks."

"No need to worry, sir, I won't. Especially since there is no boat to tempt me." Laurent grinned, and challenged his sister to a game of battledore and shuttlecock. Alice eagerly accepted the challenge, as did the rest of the young crowd. So after luncheon they all went off in search of a suitable spot for their game, while the older members of their party remained where they were.

"Let me congratulate you on your children, my lord," Miss Pyke remarked, as she watched Laurent and Alice play. "They are a delightful pair."

"They are," Lord Metfield replied and turned to his sister. "Thank you for making an effort to become friends with Alice," he said to her. "I appreciate that."

"Oh, I quite like her," Lady Victoria said lightly. "I admit I was none too pleased when I first heard about these children of yours, but I quite agree with Miss Pyke. They are doing you credit, brother. I had expected worse."

"I know you had," Lord Metfield said. "What astonishes me is that you should admit to your mistake."

Lady Victoria shrugged her brother's praise off with a laugh and invited her sister-in-law and Miss Pyke to a short walk. Sir Timothy and the Holroyds joined the party, and so Lord Metfield stayed behind with Mrs. Trevor, who was still bustling around directing the servants, and his secretary, who for some reason or other had joined neither party.

"Do sit down for a while, Mrs. Trevor," Lord Metfield begged his daughter's companion. "When I asked you to arrange an outing for us, I did not expect you to exert yourself quite as much as you have done. You have had no opportunity to enjoy yourself so far, but you should!"

Mrs. Trevor gave the footman some more instructions, and then obeyed Lord Metfield's request, sitting down opposite him.

"Look at them," Lord Metfield remarked, pointing at Alice and Laurent, who were absorbed in their game, running, and laughing. "This was how I imagined things to be when I first heard about my children's existence, yet today is the first time I see them so happy. Thank you for making it possible, Mrs. Trevor."

There was a faint blush on Mrs. Trevor's cheeks as she demurred, so Lord Metfield concluded she was better pleased with his compliment than she cared to admit. She was indeed an excellent woman, he thought, comparing her to the other ladies present -- most of all Miss Pyke, who had been making some determined attempts to capture his interest but failing miserably. There was a great deal to be said in favour of a lady who conducted herself with Mrs. Trevor's calm and unassuming air, who saw no reason to show off her perfections at every possible moment or speak ill of others in the hope of hiding her own failings. It was to be hoped Alice would take Mrs. Trevor as her role model, rather than Miss Pyke and her ilk. Lord Metfield congratulated himself on having acquired such a fitting companion for his daughter.

Then his gaze fell on Mr. Blake, who was watching the younger set with a great deal of discontent in his expression. Meanwhile, young Goodwin had taken Laurent's place, and there seemed to be a fierce battle in progress. Alice was determined to win, apparently.

"Why don't you join the game?" Lord Metfield enquired of his secretary. "Don't tell me you prefer to sit around here."

"I am not certain whether I would be welcome," Mr. Blake said stiffly.

"What kind of nonsense is this?" Lord Metfield demanded. "You cannot feel unwelcome with both Drummond and my son over there -- I know you are good friends."

Mr. Blake rose and, with a curt nod, walked towards the crowd watching the combatants.

"Something has happened to put him out of temper," Lord Metfield observed, and Mrs. Trevor agreed.

"I have never seen him like this before -- he is as sulky as a bear today! I wonder what the matter is."

"In my experience," Mrs. Trevor suggested, "there is only one thing that can drive an even-tempered young man into the sulks."

"And this is, Mrs. Trevor?" Lord Metfield smiled at her.

"A young woman, usually," Mrs. Trevor replied, slightly blushing again.

Lord Metfield thought for a moment, recollecting those days when he had been a young man himself. "I daresay you are right," he finally agreed. "I only hope his infatuation won't impair his judgement. Not when he is needed most."

Neither he nor Mrs. Trevor spoke any more about the topic, but they both kept a close watch on the young folk, each of them trying to determine which of the young ladies was responsible for Mr. Robert Blake's uncharacteristic fit of irritability.

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