Sylvia Andrew – An Inescapable Match (страница 2)

‘Er… It wasn’t possible.’

Hugo looked at Miss Staunton’s companions and nodded. ‘I suppose the landlord refused to have them?’

Miss Staunton hung her head. ‘The landlord’s wife took great offence at something the parrot said to her. And she caught Autolycus stealing… Well, he was very hungry, Hugo! I must say I think it was very foolish of her to leave a whole leg of mutton out on the table.’

Hugo surveyed her grimly. ‘You haven’t lost your talent for getting into trouble, have you?’

‘I do try not to, Hugo.’ Miss Staunton sighed. ‘Things just seem to happen. And I’ve had so much to deal with…’

‘And now there’s no one at the Vicarage today to help you…’ Hugo eyed her for a moment, then, with the air of a man facing the inevitable, he said reluctantly, ‘Very well, I shall have to take you to the Hall. I haven’t room in the curricle for the animals, but we’ll tie the dog to that tree over there—he’ll be all right in the shade. And the parrot can stay with him. As soon as we get to the Hall we’ll send someone to fetch Nanny Humble and the rest of your things. They can pick up these two, as well.’

‘Hugo! I wouldn’t dream of tying Autolycus to a tree and leaving him behind. Nor will I leave the parrot. Autolycus and the parrot both stay with me.’

‘Don’t be such a simpleton, Deborah! I can’t take you all. There isn’t nearly enough room in the curricle.’

‘I won’t leave them behind!’ said Miss Staunton stubbornly. Autolycus, hearing further sounds of disagreement, left his fleas to their own devices, got up bristling, and growled again. He advanced on Hugo.

‘Down, sir!’

The authority in Hugo’s voice stopped the dog in his tracks. He looked uncertainly at Miss Staunton, who took a firmer hold of the rope and said gently, ‘Sit, Autolycus dear.’ The dog looked again at Hugo.

‘Sit!’

Autolycus sat. Hugo nodded in satisfaction and then turned to Miss Staunton. ‘You will leave the dog and the bird here,’ he said, quite pleasantly, ‘and I promise that they will be collected within the hour. Come, no more nonsense! Get in, there’s a good girl. My horses won’t tolerate this heat much longer. Get into the curricle, Deborah.’

‘I will not!’

Timothy Potts peered round to gaze again at the creature who had dared to oppose his master’s will with such determination. She looked as if a breath of wind would blow her away, but the pointed chin was raised in defiance, and her voice was firm.

‘It’s no use your trying to bully me, Hugo. My mind is quite made up. The animals and I stay together. So pray continue on your way, and let me continue on mine.’ With this she picked up the cage, gave the rope a slight tug and set off towards Abbot Quincey.

‘Stop!’ She paused without turning round. Hugo ran his hand through his hair and said in exasperation, ‘I can’t leave you to walk the rest of the way in this heat. Be reasonable, Deborah. Look—the animals would do perfectly well in the shade over there, and it wouldn’t be long before they were collected.’

Miss Staunton hesitated, and Hugo pressed his advantage. ‘I’ll come for them myself, if you insist,’ he added with a persuasively charming smile.

‘Very well. I’ll see if they will stay,’ she said, as she coaxed Autolycus over to the tree. Hugo shook his head at such soft-heartedness.

But the animals refused to stay for even two seconds. When Miss Staunton moved away, Autolycus sat down and howled long and mournfully as soon as he found he could not follow. The parrot took exception to this powerful lament and danced on his perch with loud squawks and raucously vulgar cries. It was an impressive duet and the sound echoed far and wide across the peaceful countryside.

‘For God’s sake!’ said Hugo disgustedly. ‘I can’t bear it. You’ve won, the three of you. Deborah, you can take that parrot on your knee, and the dog can run alongside. Hold the horses, Potts, while I release that misbegotten hearthrug.’ Autolycus who had apparently regarded this last remark as a compliment of no mean order, stood wagging his tail and very ready to oblige. ‘Right!’ Hugo released the dog and walked to the curricle. ‘Now, sir! Come here!’ This command was obeyed with such enthusiasm that Hugo staggered under the onslaught. ‘Down, sir!’ he roared, brushing his previously immaculate coat. It was evident that cattle had recently sought shade under the tree. Autolycus grovelled with an anxious look up at his new friend. Hugo took the rope and tied it to the side of the curricle. ‘That dog needs a few lessons in manners, I don’t trust him to behave properly. Let’s hope that somewhere in the general medley there’s carriage-dog ancestry.’

‘He’s half Dalmatian,’ Deborah informed him. ‘And half Irish wolfhound. I think.’

‘I suppose that might account for his…unusual appearance,’ said Hugo.

Deborah fired up in defence of her pet. ‘He’s lovely!’ she said fiercely. ‘And he’s been out quite often with Mrs Dearborne’s gig.’

‘Good! Potts, if the dog starts pulling away, let him loose—understand? He could pull the lot of us over.’ Hugo got into his seat. ‘Let them go, Potts!’ The curricle moved slowly off, the horses, impatient at the delay, kept to a moderate pace under Hugo’s iron hand.

All went well, though the sight was now curious, rather than stylish. The driver was, as before, blond, tall, handsome and still reasonably immaculate. But the pace was considerably less dashing. Other than a tattered straw hat leaning out to the side, nothing could be seen of his passenger, hidden as she was behind a large, duster-covered cage. The groom’s upright posture in the rumble seat was somewhat spoilt by his nervous hold on a rope knotted round the rail. And at the end of the rope was a dog, clearly having the time of its life, as it loped alongside the curricle, waving its tail like a banner. It was hard to say what colour it was, for its coat was half plain, half a patchwork of white, brindle and fawn with touches of black. But though so large, it looked amiable enough, a large black patch over one eye giving it a comically rakish air.

As the combination approached Abbot Quincey, the duster slipped off the parrot’s cage and the bird woke up again. It mistook the motion of the carriage for the movement of a ship and began to cry raucously, ‘Belay, there! Avast, you lubbers!’ with other comments of a similar but less polite character. Miss Staunton had some difficulty in covering the cage again, and long before she did so half the population of Abbot Quincey was grinning at Hugo and his load. It was a relief when they reached the drive up to the Hall on other side of the village.

‘You’ve done it again, Deborah,’ said Hugo grimly as they came to a halt in the courtyard.

‘What do you mean?’

‘You’ve made a laughing stock of me. Just as you did in London.’

‘Oh no, Hugo! That wasn’t nearly as bad as what happened in London. I thought those people in the village were enjoying it in a…a friendly kind of way. They like you.’ Miss Staunton shuddered. ‘That was nothing like what happened in London.’ Then after a pause she said wistfully, ‘I so hoped you had forgotten that episode. That we could begin again, and be friendly as we were in the old days, when we were children. You didn’t seem to mind so much when I got into scrapes then. But you’re still angry, aren’t you? Even after four years.’ When he frowned, she added, ‘I was very young, Hugo…’

He looked down at her with a reluctant twinkle in his eye. ‘It took me a long time to regain credibility with my friends after wading out of that lake.’

‘But I didn’t mean to upset the boat, Hugo!’

‘Oh, I know you never mean to. But you never seem to learn, either! I’ve lost count of the times I’ve been the victim of your not meaning to! You were only in London for a month, but I spent a small fortune getting you out of trouble one way or another. And in the process you managed to get me bitten by a dog, set upon by footpads, accused of abduction… I can’t remember the rest. Falling into the lake was the last straw. And it was all brought about without your meaning to!’

‘That last time you were so angry. You said you never wanted to see me again.’

‘Did I? Well, if I did, it was probably prompted by an instinct of self-preservation. I didn’t like to imagine what you might do next!’ He looked at her crestfallen expression. ‘But you’re right. That’s all in the past and should be forgotten. I’m not angry any more, Deborah.’

‘I’ve grown up a lot since then, Hugo.’

Hugo cast an eye over the dog and the parrot. ‘Have you? I’m relieved to hear it.’

‘I swear I’ll be more careful in the future! Are we…are we friends?’

He got down, untied Autolycus, then came round to take the cage from her. ‘I suppose so.’ He smiled at her. ‘I can’t be at odds with my little cousin, can I?’ His face was on a level with hers.

‘I…I’m not your cousin,’ she stammered. ‘I’m a cousin of your cousins, remember?’

‘I’ve always thought of you as a cousin of mine, too. And now you’ll be living with them at the Vicarage, won’t you? Come, we must arrange for one of the men to pick Nanny Humble up. Will he need to take some money with him? Have you any other debts?’