Читать книгу Winds of Fortune - John Jeffery Farnol - Страница 4

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My nose I have never wished other than it is, for, though neither purely Greek nor classically Roman, it is yet of a delicate tho' sufficing assertiveness and suits the fashion of my countenance to a nicety. But then my eyes—large, darkly blue and long-lashed (thank Heaven)—are (alas!) too wide-set and beneath low sweep of brows themselves all too mannishly thick (though my woman Deborah will not have it so and crieth horror on my suggestion of plucking), tho' your slim, high-arching brows suggestive of a youthful surprised innocence be at present all the mode.

Yet these same eyes of mine (thanks to their shape, size and lashes aforesaid) can be emotionally various as and when I will; thus, my mirror assures me, they can instantly flame to a steadfast scorn, flash most passionate resentment or swoon with a tender languishment, and all extreme convincingly.

Then again (and oh, the pity on't) my mouth, though naturally vivid, is (alack) too large for beauty's perfection and do I attempt to pout in rosebud fashion, it showeth too altogether detestably luscious. Howsoever, my teeth being white and even, instead of pouting I can smile engagingly.

As to my person, I am neither too tall nor too short, of shape truly feminine and very justly proportioned; in this Nature hath shown such discriminating kindliness that I, in gratitude therefor, take pains to set off her noble handiwork to fullest advantage. As, for instance, the patch so justly placed a little below my right eye and the artful disorder of my auburn hair, loose braided and caught in curls (four) above my left ear. Also, being long and graciously limbed, I detest these hooped petticoats and distortionate panniers beneath which deformity may go all unsuspect; thus myself doth favour the soft mystery of clinging draperies that may, as it were, shadow forth some vision of the delectable truth they hide.

Thus then Ursula Revell (that is, myself) doth stand confessed, ætat. twenty-three, very serenely conscious of her good points bodily and mental, and grieving (albeit secretly) for her bad, yet with faith in herself and her destiny and therefore nothing diffident.

And I have revealed myself with this precise exactitude that such as may chance to read this narration shall know in some sort what manner of creature was I who sat in my boudoir beneath the dexterous hands of my devoted maid Deborah, all unwitting the singular adventures, dire perils, horrific fears, woeful doubts and fierce joys that were to commence for me upon that sunny afternoon of July, in the year of Grace Seventeen Hundred and Two.

"Beyond all question," said I, turning to glimpse the curve of my neck in the looking-glass, "I shall never marry him, Deborah."

"La now, Miss Ursula, ma'm, why ever not?" bleated Deborah. "And him a Vi-count, such great gentlemen! And what's more, one as you can't judge, seeing, ma'm, as you've never seen him—"

"Not since childhood, but I've heard so much of him, Deb, that I already despise him perfectly."

"Oh, ma'm, and him your uncle's very own choice."

"And this of itself is sufficing reason to refuse him since my Uncle Crespin's choice is not and never could be mine.... And so indecently sudden! Besides, I've no mind to be wed; marriage at best is an odious business to women of sentiment."

"But, Mistress Ursula, I declare!" gasped Deborah, "oh, la, ma'm, if all women thought so, where should us all be? And you to say so, Miss Ursula, you as so many fine gentlemen be so ready to die for! There was the Captain gentleman at the Wells, ever prepared to swound at your pretty feet."

"And a heartless fortune-hunting wretch!" quoth I.

"Well, the sweet young nobleman with the soulful eyes as writ you that pome—and the London beaux nigh a-fighting for to hand you from your coach and chair, whenso you go to Town! And the dooel as was fit over you in Lincoln Inn Felds last time! Oh, you to speak so against holy wedlock, and so many fine men a-dying to wife you!"

"This," said I, rising, "this is why I esteem horses nobler creatures than men. Howbeit, I'll surely never be wed by this Viscount wretch—"

"Ah, but Mistress Ursula, oh, my dearie, you was made for love sure and to mother pretty babes—"

"Horrors, woman! Hold thy naughty tongue—"

"But, ma'm—"

"Be silent!"

"Yes, Mistress Ursula, only if you so dare cross him, whatever will your uncle say?"

"Rage and curse, to be sure, Deborah, but then, so shall I, for to-day I mean to vindicate myself once and for all, and so away to Aunt Selina at Shalmeston."

"Oh, 'tis sad, grievous sad you should ha' been left an orphant so young!" sighed Deborah. "And nobody as do love ee true save ... only ... poor me!" Here she dropped a large tear upon my hand, whereupon I instantly kissed her comely face and cuddled her buxom form and snugged my head into the warm soft hollow of her neck and shoulder, clean forgetting the nicely ordered disorder of my hair.

"Sweet, true soul," said I, "dost know I love thee ... hast been my comfort many's the time ... thou'rt so fragrant and good and common-sensed—"

"And thou," she sobbed, "so lonely ever but for me ... and never to know a mother's tender care—"

"My mother!" said I, now weeping also, "my mother that died so young ... and I have sorely missed her ... to ha' known a mother's love 'stead o' the drunken tantrums of a sottish uncle—"

"Hist now, dearie ... you'm so headstrong wild and Sir Crespin be so turble fierce, and now if you disobey him—"

"I'm too old to be whipped these days, Deborah, and am my own mistress, thank God, to choose my own way, be it up or down. So pack and make ready, for I'll whisk thee away with me to Shalmeston. I'll ride my bay mare and you pillion with Gregory. Howbeit, Uncle Crespin shall not force me into wedlock 'gainst my will,—no, never!" said I, snapping my teeth on the word. "I'll not marry—an' I ever should, then the man who takes me to his heart shall be mine own choice; ay, by heavens, a choice serenely deliberate and based on sure knowledge of him—or I'll die a maid to lead apes in hell right joyfully!"

Thus said I, frowning on my reflection in the mirror and mighty determined, little recking (poor soul) what wild, outrageous wedding mine was to be indeed.

Then catching up riding cloak, hat and gauntlets, I went forth of my chamber and adown the wide stair to face my guardian uncle and dare my fate.

I found Sir Crespin somewhat fuddled, as was usual with him at this hour, sprawled in great elbowchair, his long peruke awry, coat and waistcoat loose and unbuttoned, and slopping wine-glass on his knee. Perceiving myself, he rose unsteadily, waved his glass in jovial salutation, dropped it, cursed it pettishly, filled another and favoured me with a staggering bow.

"Ha—hail!" quoth he, 'twixt gasp and hiccough. "Hail to the wi-witching bride! Adzooks, 'tis a blooming Hebe! No, 'slife, 'tis a glowing Venus! Barrasdale's a dev-lish fort'nate dog!"

"Uncle Crespin," said I in tone of disgust and turning to an adjacent mirror to set on my befeathered riding hat with due care, "you show more odious drunk than usual!"

"And th-thou ... thou'rt a pert minx to say so!" he stammered angrily and sank down in his chair again very sudden.

"Pray, is your Viscount arrived?" I demanded.

"Not yet—no, but ha' pa-patience, sweet carnality, aha, temper y'r hot blood—"

"Sir Crespin," cried I, my eyes instantly aflame with bitter scorn, "you are base as you seem! Be silent, sir, and hear me."

"Ha—silent? I? This to me—"

"Uncle Crespin, to serve some purpose of your own, you would marry me to a man I have never seen but know by report for a very rakehell—"

"Nay, faith; no more than is the gent-gentlemanly fashion, girl. We be all rakes and ever shall be whiles a man's a man and woman's the te-tempting—"

"He is also a drunkard, Uncle."

"Why, the lad drinks, as gentlemen must and should, but marriage shall settle him, I'll warrant—"

"Tho' not with me, Uncle Crespin. I'll none of him—"

"Hey? What—?"

"I utterly refuse even to contemplate such vile, detestable union, as I am here to tell his lordship whenso you produce him—"

"Why ... damme, will ye dare cross me then?" gasped my uncle, clawing himself up to his uncertain feet. "Ye curst termagant shrew, will ye dare me to—?"

"Uncle," said I, catching up the heavy riding whip that chanced to hand, "you know well how that I have dared you all my unhappy days. As a child, I nothing feared you, despite your slaps and whippings; as a woman and my own mistress, I despise you, yet was content to suffer you here at my house of Revelsmead—"

"Ha—suffer me, by God—"

"But, good uncle mine, three weeks agone you proposed this marriage to me first and I told you then I'd die rather. But now, Uncle, rather than endure the shame of such wedlock or become the victim of your schemes, I'll see this Viscount dead—ay, by my virginity and you too!"

"God's my life!" gasped my Uncle Crespin, actually recoiling before the menace of my look. "The wench threatens murder!" Then he clenched his great hands in sudden menace, but as he came at me, I raised the heavy whip and stepped to meet him.... What shameful doings might have chanced I scarce dare think, nor is there need, for in this moment a strange voice stayed us, a something hoarse yet lazy voice at the open lattice.

"Dare I venture to intrude?"

Back reeled my uncle, to thud heavily into his elbowchair, and lowering the whip I turned, as in through the open casement came the neatly bewigged head and broad shoulders of a man; now, thinking him no other than this expected Viscount, I instantly flashed him a look of such passionate resentment that he blinked, bowed and withdrawing head and shoulders, into the room came a leg in long, dusty, spurred riding boot; then the other and finally himself, a very dusty person who flaunted weather-beaten hat and whose full-skirted coat showed something threadbare with hard usage. Hat thus aflourish, he bowed first to myself and then to Uncle Crespin. And so, for a moment, we were dumb all three. Then, to my surprise, my uncle demanded and most urgently:

"And who, sir, who a-plague may you be?"

Now at this I viewed the person with some faint feeling of interest.

A slim, lean man of no great stature, with bronzed visage nothing remarkable save for quick, bright eyes, an aggressive nose and a mouth whose grim lips (as he chanced to meet my look) curled up at me with sudden elfish quirk, at the which freedom be sure I frowned; and now, as he stood there, daring to smile on me, I sensed in this dusty, weather-beaten, sunburned fellow a quick tho' latent vitality and therewith a glimpse of such grimly fierce resolution that, despite his sleepy voice and ease of bearing, a very strangely sinister creature I thought him.

"You, sir," cried my Uncle Crespin, mighty imperious; "are ye deaf? D' ye hear me? Who are ye—hey?" The stranger turned him slowly and, seeming to view my uncle's flushed and angry face curiously, feature by feature, made answer in his husky, languid voice.

"Sir, you may call me Captain Japhet Bly, hither despatched to convoy or shall we say escort your niece the lady Ursula, that I dare affirm is she that now doth so frown on me, safe to care of her aunt, my lady Brandon at Shalmeston Manor. And here, sir, my credentials."

From the bosom of his dingy coat, he drew a sealed letter but instead of putting it into my Uncle Crespin's clutching, outstretched hand, he gave it to me; so, breaking the seal I opened the letter and read this in my Aunt Selina's crabbed characters:

My sweet child Crespin writes me thou art to wed and from my house. So come to-day with the bearer of this and find a mother's welcome from

Your loving Aunt

Selina.

Having read, I placed this letter on the table to my uncle's hand and he, having scanned it through, glared from it up to me.

"Ursula," quoth he, "begone to thy chamber!"

"Uncle," I answered, glancing into the mirror to see if my hat was properly set, "fare you well. Do I give Aunt Selina any message from you?"

"Damme—no!" cried he. "You bide here, madam, here at Revelsmead, I say—"

"Not so, Uncle," I murmured, drawing on my gauntlets, "I ride this moment for Shalmeston—"

"I forbid it!" he roared, upstarting to his feet. "I forbid ye to ride there, or any other where, madam, d'ye hear me? And alone too! And with this fellow, a stranger, a—"

"Captain Japhet Bly, sir," murmured the person, bowing, "very humbly at lady Ursula's service."

"And not alone, Uncle; my faithful Deborah rides with me."

Now here, chancing to glance at the person, I caught him regarding me with methought a something odd expression. And now my uncle, leaning towards me across the table, spake me in tone and with look that was almost an appeal.

"Ursula ... child, it was your dead parents' expressed wish and earnest desire that you should in fulness of time wed a Barrasdale of Aldbourne."

"Ay, truly," I answered, "but not this Viscount Barrasdale; it was his cousin they willed me to wed ... the gentle boy I mind so well that was my companion and playfellow years ago ... the poor boy that died or—"

Over crashed the table and my uncle made at me with such evident fury of purpose that once again I raised whip but, ere I could strike, the Captain person interposed, and with quick and almost incredible ease lifted Uncle Crespin struggling aloft and seated him, gasping and speechless, in his cushioned elbowchair.

"Sir," said the person, "an' your niece be ready, permit me in all humility to take my leave of you."

Now though his voice was sleepily soft as ever, very dreadfully changed showed the face of him, with eyes glaring atwixt narrowed lids and lips backdrawn from strong white teeth with such hateful look of animal ferocity as vastly disgusted and yet (I do confess) pleasured me too, seeing how for once my formidable uncle cowered in dumb amaze.

And now it was that Deborah tapped at door and peeped in timidly to say the horses waited; so, with last look at my silenced uncle, I went forth of the chamber and out of my house of Revelsmead that never yet had been truly mine, and glancing round about me and up to the radiant sky, I drew deep breath of the fragrant sunny air and felt all my body atingle with a strange new rapture wonder-sweet. Then came Gregory with the horses and there too was the Captain person, hand down-reaching for my foot, to lift me into the saddle; but, misliking the man and his easy assurance, I set this proffered hand aside with my whip and beckoning Gregory, with his aid got me lightly (and as I think gracefully) to horse and, chancing to glance at the person, saw him regarding me with his grimly quirkish smile. I found the creature became annoying and so glancing disdainful at his dusty boots and rusty spurs, addressed him directly for the first time.

"Sir," said I, suiting tone with look, and suffering my habit to reveal as much as it should but no more, "sir, for your proffered escort accept my gratitude and farewell."

"Madam," he answered, with sudden chuckling laugh (extreme odious), "I do begin to love this England better than I did."

Then, seeing Deborah vainly endeavouring to mount up behind Gregory, he lifted her to the pillion, ordered her petticoats, smiled up into her comely, blushing face, and swung himself astride his own sorry mount whiles I looked on, pondering his words.

And thus with him beside me (and all too near) and Gregory and Deborah behind, with the pack horses laden with such of my baggage and portmanteaus as Deborah deemed necessary to my proper comfort, I set forth on that road beset by shameful affrights that was to lead me through fury of battle and raging tempest, through hardship, suffering and perils a-many to that everlasting wonder of the which I had never dreamed. Now as to what this abiding wonder is, how it cometh and whence,—ye shall something know perchance that trouble to read patiently to the end of this, my astonishing narration. And thus, with the words wherewith I began, will I here end this my first chapter.