Mr Forster's Fortune (15 page)

Mr Forster
was looking thoughtful.

‘I am sure that we all wish to put back the clock at times, my lady,’ he assured her. ‘But of course it cannot be. And yet, I wonder whether your mother might have rather you didn’t know of her situation – she might have been pleased that you were enjoying yourself so much. In fact, I am perfectly convinced that she would. What mama would want her daughter to
be miserable? After all, it would be the most unnatural thing in the world for her to do.’

‘What a comforting thought, Mr Forster. I had not thought of that at all.
Perhaps it is best to be philosophical about these things? Our experiences form our characters, I believe. Perhaps we would be rather colourless were we only ever to do things right?’

‘Ha – yes, indeed, I think you entirely correct – and my character is a veritable rainbow, for I never ever get things right!’

Cecily smiled, and they remained silent for a moment. Mr Forster was gazing at the fire now, burning in flickering caverns in the grate.

‘My father has accepted his lot in life,’ he
went on, musingly. ‘He has suffered much disappointment and injury in his lifetime – things he has never ever talked about before – and he has got on with life regardless and done the best he can. He has opened up a very great deal to me in the past few days or so. I have never known the like of it before. It is partly your influence, it seems to me, my lady. Apparently you remind him of a long lost love. More than thirty years have come and gone, yet he remembers the lady with fondness still. He has suddenly felt the need to talk to me about it. It has quite caught me by surprise. I have never seen him so – well, so vulnerable before.’

‘He has always struck me as a somewhat lonely figure,
if I may say so, Mr Forster – disappointed, unfulfilled, unable to be himself. I am glad that he has found a way to talk to you. I am sure it will do him some good.’

‘I hope it will. I feel a great need to be of use.
He has done his best to – well, let’s just say that he has always done his best for me, though I never really thought of it before. I was always conscious of what he did
not
do for me and not so conscious of what he actually did. But I feel, at last, a kind of understanding of him. We are not so very different after all. His hopes and needs, back then, are my hopes and needs right now. And now that I understand him a little I think that I can help him. I shall be very, very pleased to do so.’

Cecily looked at him without saying a word. So he did have some character after all. She had hoped that he might and she had hoped that he
might feel able reveal it. His person, his elegance, his liveliness, his humour were all alluring, and delightful. She would not wish them gone. They were all things of great importance to her– much more important than she really thought they should, she knew. But now, at last, he had started to reveal a much deeper, more thoughtful, more sensitive side to her – the side that complemented this lighter side and made everything about him complete.

The sudden rattling of the windows attracted their attention. The wind had sprung up
and was whistling in through the crevices around the frames. They both went across to look out into the street. A few brave souls were scurrying across the flagstones and into the Sydney Hotel, their umbrellas blowing inside out in the face of the driving rain. Robert pulled the curtains across. They were heavy and long and made the room feel instantly warm, instantly secure. Cecily turned towards him and gave him a little smile.

‘
I’m glad we are in here and not out in the rain,’ she told him, regaining her seat as Miss Forster reappeared in the drawing room at last. ‘Perhaps it will have died down a little by the time I go back home.’

Captain
King was eyeing his cousin quite thoughtfully as they slowly paced the gravel walk that Sunday afternoon. He had just sat through the service with her and been introduced to Lady Barnham and Miss Forster, who had left for an engagement elsewhere. After the driving rain and gales of the past couple of days the weather had unexpectedly cleared. The sunshine had emerged from behind some feathery clouds and there was a definite feeling of spring. Cecily had been tripping along beside him, looking as happy and excited as ever he had seen her. The afternoon and evening spent with the Forsters had been an unmitigated delight – Mr Forster’s reading voice had been just as she had expected it would be – firm, expressive, well modulated, engaging. She had felt that she could listen to him all day. Lord Barnham had been unwaveringly kind. She had watched him with renewed interest as they ate their meal. So she reminded him of a long lost love. How delightful! It had given him an added piquancy somehow. His son had engaged him in conversation concerning the stars. Had the weather only allowed it she had been quite convinced that they should all have ended the night in some star-gazing together – well, all apart from her ladyship, of course. Lady Barnham had found no interest whatsoever in a discussion on how the planets glimmered and twinkled in the sky. Her only contribution had revolved around the lighting of a more domestic kind – such as whether they yet had street lights across the whole of Dorking, and whether Mrs King ever ventured forth there after dark. Cecily could only feel pleased that Mr Forster and his father were conversing together at last. She had thought them more at ease with one another than ever she had seen them before.

She had been engaged with them
again for the theatre on the Saturday – where Mr Forster’s attentions could not have been more marked. He had thought to bring a cushion for her, arranged her shawl to keep out the draughts, bought a programme for her to keep. And he had sat so closely next to her, commenting most entertainingly throughout the production, that it was as if no other person existed in the world for him, apart, of course, from her.

Captain King
sighed heavily as he watched her on the path. He knew that what he had to say to her would be most unwelcome indeed.

Cecily wasn’t immediately aware of his gaze. Her bonnet got annoyingly in the way. B
ut when she did turn her head a little she returned his glance, a little blushingly, and stopped for a moment by a bench.

‘Is – do you have anything to say to me,
Alfred?’ she asked him eventually, sitting down and patting the bench beside her. His studied look was beginning to unnerve her. ‘Only you have been looking at me this past few minutes, I’m sure. I hope I have done nothing to offend you?’

For a horrible moment the thought that he might have
decided to try his luck with her again flashed vividly through her mind. His first words did little to alleviate her concern.

‘
No, my dear,’ he assured her, placing himself carefully down beside her. A robin was singing wistfully nearby. ‘You have done nothing at all to offend me. I hope that we have always been friends – and that we always shall.’

Cecily felt a little bemused. Alfred was not normally
given to sentimentality. He was sounding very odd.

‘Well, as far as I’m concerned we shall be, Alfred. We have always been most fond of
each other, have we not? I see no reason for anything to change. I should like to think that I shall always be your friend.’

Alfred nodded and gave her a slightly
regretful smile. It did not make her feel a jot more comfortable.

‘Whatever is the matter, Alfred?’ she demanded, eventually. She feared that his silence would last for the rest of the day. ‘I wish you would say something rather than sitting on this bench in total silence.’

He looked at her again resignedly.

‘
It concerns Mr Forster, Cess,’ he began, a little bluntly. ‘I must admit that I’m a little concerned about him. I wish – I need to know where Mr Forster stands in relation to yourself.’

A sudden shock ran through her. She
found herself blushing. She felt rather guilty, though she did not quite know why.

‘Mr Forster,
Alfred? Miss...Miss Forster’s brother? But why ever should you be concerned about him?’

‘I do
not...I suppose I need to know what your situation is in respect to him.’

‘
Well, I am not quite sure what it is that you are asking me. Mr Forster is not – I mean, he has not yet asked me to marry him, if that is your concern?’

Her cousin
nodded. He was looking almost as uncomfortable as she was.

‘And – forgive me,
Cess – I know it is not easy for a young female to talk of these things, especially to... well...but it is most important that you are honest with me on this one. May I ask – if he were to ask you to marry him – would it be your intention to accept?’

Cecily had never blushed quite so often, or so deeply, in her life before.

‘It would be presumptuous of me even to think of it just yet, Alfred,’ she managed to stammer. ‘I have not known him for very long, and I’m only just recently out of mourning, as you know.’

‘Yes, yes, I know all about that, of course. But being in mourning has never stopped a lady
from esteeming a man before, I should imagine. Setting aside the propriety and any other rights and wrongs in the case – were you given the chance to marry the man, Cess – do you think you would accept him?’

This time Cecily felt able to look her
cousin in the eye.

‘Yes,
Alfred,’ she said, quite firmly. ‘Yes. If he asked me to marry him then I feel quite certain that I should wish to accept. I should require my uncle’s permission, of course. It is almost two years still before I finally come of age. But I would ask him please to grant it. I see no need to wait.’

Captain
King let out a deep breath and eyed her sadly.

‘I thought as much,’ he admitted. ‘I saw how you looked at
him as he escorted you to your chair the other night – and all the attention he has paid to you this last few days since then. My father told me that you appeared to be... you know, when he wrote to me before. That was why I came over to Bath so soon. I wanted to – well, you know – I won’t raise the subject again. But dash it all, Cecily – this is so damnably hard – I really do not know quite how to say this to you. I can see that it will probably break your heart.’

Cecily’s embarrassment suddenly slipped away. It was pushed out of her consciousness by an even more unwelcome sense of doom.

‘Whatever are you talking about, Alfred? Why might you need to break my heart?’

Captain
King looked earnestly at his cousin’s face and took her hand in his. Cecily did not object to it. At least it stopped him jingling his wretched coins.

‘I
am afraid that I have a concern about Mr Forster, Cess. I fear that he may be not as genuine as he appears. I know for a fact that his family is penniless and in debt – I heard it from his brother and cousin with my own ears – they could not even buy a commission for one of their sons - and I know that his father was asking mine about your fortune. My father has since made some further enquiries. I am afraid that he found nothing to make him less concerned. How they even manage to keep up the appearance of tolerable gentility I really do not know. They probably live off eternal credit and ruin half the tradesmen that they meet. I fear that Mr Forster is interested only in your money. My father tells me that he had been courting a lady – a woman, I should say – with a deal more money even than you. He had been courting her most assiduously, so I understand. That is why you had seen so very little of him when I first arrived in Bath. But that little scheme seems to have come to a natural end. The lady may have found an empty title less tempting than she had imagined it to be. So now he has reappeared amongst us once again. I can see that he comes across as quite a charmer at times. I can see that you find him attractive. Unlike me,’ said with a rueful little grin, ‘unlike me, I can see how he could quite sweep a lady off her feet. But – and, as I say, I really am most sorry that I have to break this news to you – I had much rather not, I assure you – I fear him to be a swindler of the very meanest sort.’

Cecily
stared at her cousin, horrified. For a moment she had not believed him. For a moment she had wondered whether he still held hopes of a union with her, and that he wanted only to frighten her away from a much more appealing suitor. But then – when he had mentioned Mr Forster’s association with another woman, when he pointed out his swift disappearance, and his equally swift appearance once again – well, she remembered, with pain, that fleeting moment at that very spot only the very week before – the moment that she had succeeded in banishing almost from her mind - the brief flutter of colourful clothing, the female hand upon his arm – and wondered if it were possible – just possible – that her cousin might be right.

So she looked at him and said nothing.
Captain King could see that his words had struck home. He patted her arm affectionately. It was a pity that they couldn’t make a match of it but he was prepared to further her happiness in whatever way he could. But if he himself was not to be the lucky man then Alfred certainly did not want her to give herself away – throw herself away – on a worthless, good-for-nothing fortune hunter with more charm than stature. He would be reneging on his duty to their family if he allowed it.