Clarissa and the Poor Relations (18 page)

‘John  ...’ protested Cornelia, for Grandiston’s vision had drawn a pretty picture in her head.

‘No my dear, I am her guardian and I forbid it.’ John said stoutly.

There was a deathly pause. Clarissa found Elfoy’s hand and clasped it tightly in the folds of her dress. Her eyes filled.

Mr Micklethwaite gave a cough. ‘I’m afraid that isn’t so …’ he said apologetically.

‘I beg your pardon, sir?’

‘Well, Mr Tipperton - the solicitor for the Ashcroft family - had the right, as executor of Mrs Thorne’s estate, to appoint a guardian. As the elder brother, he of course believed it would be you, Mr Thorne and I believe he wrote to you after your stepmother’s death asking you when Miss Thorne would be residing under your roof.’

John squirmed. ‘She was happy at the school at the time and my wife was quite unwell …’

‘Yes, indeed. And according to my sister it was not until she inherited Ashcroft, a full year later, that the invitation to reside with you was offered.’

John Thorne was looking discomfited, unable to meet any of the many eyes that regarded him. ‘The school was no longer profitable, it is not as simple as you suggest.’

‘However that may be, in order to give her her mother’s portion, Tipperton appointed another guardian - himself.  It was even more necessary after the young Viscount died.  Mr Tipperton is getting old and he has now appointed another legal man as guardian …’ He coughed again. ‘… me.’

A gasp of wonder went around the room and Mr Micklethwaite, embarrassed at being the centre of attention stepped back a pace.

‘Do you mean to say,’ declared The Honourable Charles disgustedly, ‘That all our carefully thought out stratagems for outwitting Clarissa’s guardian, not forgetting that whole charade last night was all for nothing? All we need have done is to have applied to Waity’s brother?’

‘As to that sir, I am only lately, after receipt of my sister’s inquiry, been appointed by Mr Tipperton. He was looking about him, you see, for someone he could depend on and when I explained my sister’s connection … but you only need have applied to Mr Tipperton, certainly.’

‘I do not at all understand. How is it I did not know about Mr Tipperton’s guardianship?’ asked Clarissa.

The weak voice of Miss Appleby, situated behind Clarissa, sounded out, ‘I’m afraid that might have been my fault, my dear Clarissa.’

‘How so, dear Appleby?’ asked Clarissa, turning to her.

‘Well, there were a deal of papers sent quite soon after your mother’s death. Mostly Augusta dealt with them, but one arrived when you and she were walking and I put it behind the clock and there it stayed for some months. When we packed to go, I found it once more and put it in my valise, meaning to give it to you when we arrived.’ She sighed. ‘But what with one thing or another … I’m
so
sorry, my dear.’

‘Do you mean to say that I had to endure those awful morning visits and even smile once at Lord Staines for
nothing.
How infamous,’ said Miss Petersham severely.

Clarissa laughed. ‘You did it for friendship, Oriana. And oh, has anyone ever had such wonderful friends? Waity and Appleby and Oriana, my three treasures - and then our new friends: Grandiston, Mr Booth and dear Sir Montague. And Mr Elfoy, who stood up to everyone and anyone to help me. How can I ever thank you?’ She turned with her old impetuosity and clasped his hands once more.

Elfoy searched her eyes. ‘By marrying me?’

Clarissa glowed, for once devoid of speech. Mrs Elfoy grasped Mr Somersby’s arm hard enough to make him gasp. Elfoy turned to Mr Micklethwaite. ‘With your permission, sir.’

‘Given Lord Grandiston’s masterly summation of the facts, I should think that it will be a very sensible conclusion.’

Mr Elfoy stood gazing into his beloved’s eyes, Grandiston looked with pride on the face of Oriana, the joy in it doubled by her happiness for her friend. Sir Montague was still patting Miss Appleby’s hand and whispering softly to her. The rest of the company were in various states of shock, so it fell to Mrs Sowersby to move things along.

‘Mr Elfoy, perhaps it would be better if you took Clarissa for a walk in the garden.’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ he said with alacrity.

‘And don’t talk to her about your lack of money.  Charles and Hugo tell me you are worth ten thousand a year to this place.’

‘No ma’am.’ Elfoy smiled and joyfully led Miss Thorne into the garden.

‘We’ll leave the other lovers to sort themselves out but I suggest the rest of us adjoin to the salon to escape the draught. That includes you and Charles, Juliana. You have been engaged a full day now and can have no more need for quiet cozes.’ She smiled radiantly and turned to the butler. ‘Sullivan, is it? Do you think we might manage some refreshments? It’s been far too exciting this morning.’

Sullivan bowed magnificently and sailed away. Out of sight, he smiled widely. His little Miss Clarissa was safe. But the house and garden needed a great deal more staff. Once the men had finished with the cottages, he’d put them to work elsewhere. Ashcroft would one day be great again.

Mrs Sowersby ushered Mrs Elfoy and Mr and Miss Micklethwaite ahead of her family and looked back at the Thornes standing stock still and embarrassed by the grand staircase. ‘Dear Mrs. Thorne, it has been an exciting morning and I suppose like me you will be craving tea.’ Cornelia hesitated but seeing nothing but kindness in the face of her most illustrious neighbour, she walked forward tentatively.  ‘Your sister is getting married.  I’m sure upon reflection that you see it is right,’ Mrs Sowersby continued companionably as she led her forward. ‘I suspect Miss Appleby’s wedding will take place from here and soon.’ Miss Thorne’s face froze. ‘But we too have weddings to arrange, dear lady.’ With the others gliding through the salon doors, she turned back to Grandiston still standing with Miss Petersham’s arm threw his, gazing down at her. ‘What do you say, my Lord, shall we plan a triple wedding? I daresay society will never have seen the like.’

‘I leave the conspiracies all to you, Mrs Sowersby.’ He said in his old suave manner, ‘Miss Petersham and I intend to be married by special license –
immediately.’

‘But Grandiston …’ protested Oriana.

‘Do you
want
your brother at your wedding?’

‘Immediately it is, Hugo.’ Oriana answered, revolted by the thought. ‘But if you think you can rule me …’

He dragged her out the door, past the gentle lovers seated in the hall, and looked to see a private path.

That evening the table had to have nearly all its leaves put on and the cook had excelled herself in presenting many excellent dishes (with the help of three extra girls from the village).

‘Well,’ said Clarissa, ‘so it is settled. Miss Micklethwaite will remain here and live with us. So sorry, Mr Micklethwaite.’

Mr Micklethwaite gave another dry cough and his sister said, equally dryly, ‘I believe he will survive. Though Mr Elfoy may not.’

Elfoy smiled. ‘Well, I tried to get Clarissa to change her mind …’

Micklethwaite rapped him with her fork.  ‘At least I shall have your mother to bear me company.’ She exchanged smiles with Mrs Elfoy.

‘And Miss Appleby will be with us until spring when she will become Lady Holmes and be much too grand for us.’ Miss Appleby blushed and Sir Montague barked a laugh. ‘We shall go to London to Ashcroft House before I have to sell it for next year’s wages.’

‘I suggest you lease it, my dear,’ chipped in Sir Montague. ‘It’s a damned good address. It could realise a goodly sum.’

‘How clever you are, Sir Montague.  I depend upon many visits.’ She smiled brightly, then continued, ‘Juliana and I will have a quiet double wedding…’

‘We’ll see about that. My wife has other plans,’ said Mr Sowersby matter of factly.

‘… attended by The Earl and Countess of Grandiston which will make us all madly fashionable.’

Grandiston cast an eye over Booth’s snazzy brocade waistcoat, ‘If you continue to dress like that Charles, even I cannot help you.’

‘Quiet Grandiston,’ said Clarissa, ‘Or should I say My Lord?’ she looked to Miss Appleby for guidance.

‘Yes my dear,’ said that lady ‘But whatever you call him, I‘m perfectly sure you shouldn’t tell an Earl to be quiet.’

John Thorne looked like he would have given solid agreement to this, but he was quashed by his wife’s arm. Cornelia was lying low. Much social advancement now lay in Clarissa’s gift. Her resentment was quelled beneath practical concerns. They must not be cut out of the wedding.

‘It’s only Grandiston. And he was
my
suitor until last night you know,’ she said naughtily.

‘But
thank goodness
you are now engaged to someone else.’ Grandiston said with heavy relief and raised a glass to Elfoy, who grinned.

‘I always thought Earls would have better manners.’ Clarissa admonished him. She stood and raised her glass, surveying her friends and her kingdom which no longer seemed so daunting. ‘I have a toast: to poor relations everywhere! May they find a life as full, happy and useful as all of us!’

‘

Alicia Cameron is the nom de plume of a crime writer who shall remain nameless at present. Clarissa was written because of a shared family love of the wit of Jane Austen and Georgette Heyer, and was written as a confection just for them. She was convinced to share it with new readers.

No bodices were torn in the making of this novel.

To find out when the next Alicia Cameron story will arrive, visit clarissaand.blogspot