Chapter 30

CHAPTER 30

‘ M argaret, I think, has made something of a conquest with your Mr Ambrose,' observed John Dashwood to his wife one morning at breakfast, putting down his freshly delivered Baldwin's London Weekly . ‘I happened to catch him staring at her several times last evening, and at Almacks he danced with her twice, which is quite something, for as a rule he seldom dances.'

‘Does he not? I hadn't noticed.'

‘Indeed he does not, Fanny. You must have observed his staring at her? He contrives always to be near us, or to meet with us, or to attend the same balls and evening parties. It is uncanny how much we have seen of him lately. It is not surprising,' added he, sipping his coffee, ‘for such as her good looks must be much admired wherever she goes. Only yesterday you must have noticed that she drew several stares in the park, from shameless young gentlemen, too. I had my eye upon them, I can tell you!' Here he paused, then said carefully, ‘But to tell you the truth, my dear, I do not like Ambrose for her.'

The subject of his reveries had not yet come downstairs, a very late evening having been passed the night before, at a private ball given by one of Fanny's very particular friends. Fanny, always an early riser, had preceded her sister to breakfast, and was, now that John had raised the topic, determined to tread most carefully upon those waters less she sink her entire scheme.

‘I wonder you can think it,' she said now quite casually as she buttered a roll. ‘Now that you mention it, however, perhaps I have observed him staring at her. If he is taken with her, I must say that I consider Ambrose as good a contender as any. He stands to inherit his uncle's title and fortune. And his business interests in the Indies bring him in a fine income now, if his style of living is anything to indicate his position. If Margaret can get him, and I think she can, you ought not to encourage her to cast her glove at anyone else, my dear. You would be doing her a great disservice. Ambrose will make her a fine husband.'

What Fanny had not said to her husband, and what she considered was not his business to know, was that Fanny had recently engaged in an exchange with Ambrose which had been very satisfactory to her. They had been strolling in Hyde Park, Margaret quite well ahead of them with John. Fanny had taken this opportunity, while her friend seemed disposed to forgo his private thoughts for once, to suggest the topic which must be foremost on his mind—her sister-in-law.

She had opened without prevaricating, as was her way. ‘You've made a good impression upon my husband's sister.'

Ambrose might have smiled slightly but she would not have known it, for her eyes were carefully directed towards their companions ahead. At length, during which he appeared to be thinking deeply, or perhaps not thinking at all, he replied with a certain nonchalance, ‘Can you tell?'

‘Certainly,' Fanny had replied. ‘She does not tell me she dislikes you. And Miss Margaret,' she added, ‘is not backwards about expressing her opinions.' They had paused a moment, stepping aside as a horse and rider passed them, and she turned to him. ‘Is she not everything I represented? You like her well enough?'

‘She is not disagreeable,' was Ambrose's concession.

‘Is that all you can find to say about the creature? She has been called a beauty, you know.'

A pause, and then, ‘She is well-looking, I concede. Better looking than anything on offer this season. And charming in her own countryfied way.'

Fanny smiled slightly in satisfaction. She had not found her companion to ever wax over-blown in his sentiments, and this praise, if it could be called such, satisfied her. ‘Well, I have made the introduction and seen that she has been thrown into your company enough for her not to be completely blind as to what you could offer her. You must conduct your affairs as you see fit, but there are other suitors whom I have been at pains to chase away. Heaven forbid she takes a shine to one of them !'

He had said nothing more, but only turned to walk on, and Fanny had been content to leave the matter be.

But Fanny did not think it necessary now to apprise her husband of this conversation. She merely added sugar to her tea and said carefully, ‘He is very well connected, you know. We might benefit greatly ourselves, from the connection.'

Mr John Dashwood lowered his newspaper. ‘Still, she cannot equal him in any way. I wonder at his looking at her at all. I suppose her beauty turns his head, but surely he will come to his senses—she is my sister—he cannot mean anything serious by it—you know what is his reputation—and I would not want her injured.'

‘His reputation? I dare say he was a rascal a few years ago, but why should he not wish to settle—he must inherit within ten years—and a man is better to marry before he takes a title than afterwards!'

‘True, my love, but did not he only last season ruin Miss Hastings' chances? I believe she cannot show her face in good society now and has gone to live in Scotland! And lately I had thought that he had a penchant for Miss Henrietta Rush, although I am sure her friends will keep her quite safe. But he dallies with these very young females—plays with them—and I cannot but think it an unhealthy preference in him—I do not think he can mean to treat Margaret any differently.'

‘He has left off all that. He wishes to marry.'

‘Perhaps he does. He ought! But they are so unequal!'

‘And yet there is nothing to prevent them forming an alliance, if he wishes it—and it appears that he does—there is an inequality of fortune, certainly, and a little disparity of age—but can he not be satisfied to gain a beautiful wife?'

‘Of course you are quite correct, my dear, but—do you think it quite wise ? To give her to Ambrose? He may even be serious in finally taking a wife, but he has a way about him which an older female, one used the ways of men, would be equal to—but my sister—well, I would not like to think of my own sister being sewn upon rough ground—she does not have the experience to handle a man like Ambrose.'

Fanny's very great opinion of Ambrose could not, however, be shaken. ‘It is true that Ambrose has the appearance of worldliness, but he seems quite taken with her. She is most likely a deal more worldly herself than she lets on. She has not been raised in a convent! That innocent naivety at her age cannot be anything but affectation! For myself, I think the match eminently suitable. Riches and beauty—it is a formula which cannot fail to make them both happy. Margaret ought to be aware she cannot hold off marrying for very long, or her looks will fade and it is not as if she has other attractions to lure a husband.'

‘Of course, dearest, she is lucky to have caught his eye, being so devoid of fortune, and yet—I should not like to think of giving Margaret to a—a philanderer.'

‘Ptush!' remarked Fanny. ‘He has been a tad licentious, I own, but is not every young man in his youth? '

‘I wonder, too, at his wanting Margaret, for he could have anybody. Miss Davonport, perhaps? Stay, she is engaged. Then Lady Benchley's daughter? Sh e has a title, and is not unhandsome! Would not she do very well for him? Why does he look at a girl with no fortune and no title, when he can have someone who might bring a great deal more to the marriage? It is strange indeed!'

‘Pray remember your sister is a Dashwood, after all. That is not nothing. Her connections on our side, must make her a gentlewoman. She is, in short, not low-bred. I own that Ambrose is certainly a degree or two above her station, but too, her beauty must count for something great. Marianne was snapped up by her Colonel Brandon, and their match was just as unequal. She could bring nothing to the match, except her looks. And Miss Margaret far and away exceeds the beauty of your other sisters.'

‘Yes, that is true my love.'

‘That our friend should only want a pretty wife is not so strange,' continued Fanny after a strategic pause. ‘He is not partial, you know, to those ladies who have been so long in town they are spoiled by it. Lady Benchley's daughter is just such a female. She is worldly and stale, and Ambrose despises women of that sort. No, I'm certain Margaret interests him for other reasons. Country freshness may attract a worldly man like Ambrose. She is fresh and untainted. Besides that, she has an uncommon spirit for a female. She charms him.'

‘She cannot rival the likes of Miss Anne Davenport, of course— she has a fortune, and therefore must marry a title, but our Margaret might do just as well with the likes of say, Roger Lavenham. Did you observe that he asked her twice to go down the dance with him last night? He seemed quite struck with her, himself. Or young Mr Williams-Boyce. You know, Fanny,' John added carefully when his wife gave him no reply, ‘Ambrose will have his competition if he intends to court Margaret seriously. It can be no bad thing for her to have choices. I must say that I shall be quite satisfied to have been the one to find her a husband. Lavenham is a very good contender, in my opinion. He will think nothing of her not having a fortune, for he has enough for them both and is a very good sort of fellow. Now what say you to Lavenham? You cannot despise his fortune, by any means!'

Now Fanny could not but help betray a rising vexation. ‘Yes, indeed, he has the greater fortune now perhaps, and he is also the most dandified buffoon that set foot in town! No, Ambrose is already quite attached to her. If he sees her paying too much attention to Roger Lavenham, he might grow indifferent.'

‘You are quite right, of course, my dear, and yet I think a little competition may not always discourage the parties,' he added wisely.

‘Not one of those you have mentioned will go head-to-head with Charles Ambrose,' replied Fanny with a sly smile. ‘If they are wise they will know themselves unequal to compete with him.'

John Dashwood signalled the servant to refill his coffee. When the servant had gone away again he said very civilly, ‘I merely suggest that it might be a good thing for my sister to cast her net a little wider than Charles Ambrose.'

‘My dear,' replied Fanny carefully, her cheeks now quite flushed, ‘You may as well know that Ambrose is determined to have her. He told me so himself.'

John Dashwood dropped his cup into its saucer. ‘Fanny! Are you really so very ready for my sister to have a—a—libertine like Ambrose?'

John was very slightly, and most unusually, vexed with his wife, and Fanny sensed it. She had long been mistress of herself and her household, having trained her husband over their fifteen-year marriage to be as a reed to wind, when it came to exerting her own will. When on the rare occasions that he resisted her, she was obliged to employ evasive tactics, for to out-manoeuvre others, to operate in the shadows, was Fanny's modus operandi and it had rewarded her with benefits both obvious and hidden. She always, always, had her own way. And so subtle were her manoeuvrings that she had never had to defend her actions. Now that she was forced almost to an impasse , she decided upon a more direct move. One which would appeal to her husband's desires, which were usually charmingly aligned with her own. Even when they were not.

‘I think him much improved in that regard, and since his grandfather has been firm with him, he has declared his intention to marry. I should think that would allay any fears you have.'

‘Is that what you two were talking about last night so privately?'

‘Yes, I confess it is,' she replied in slightly submissive tones. It would not do to let him think he had made too much headway with her. ‘I said just now that Ambrose intends to have Margaret. He will likely offer for her soon.' She sighed heavily. ‘But, to tell the truth, my dear, now that you have so clearly disapproved the match, I shall not scruple to confess that I share your concerns regarding Ambrose's not being quite the right fellow for her.'

‘You do?' Dashwood put down his cup in astonishment.

‘I did not like to make a point of opposing you, if you were inclined to approve of Ambrose. Only, since you have made it clear you cannot approve him, I can feel myself more sure of not giving offence to you, when I say that I would not like to think your dear sister unhappy. Ambrose is, as you say, a worldly fellow.'

‘Just so, Fanny dear, just so. I am glad you see it as I do! She might set her sights on Lavenham—he will have the title, and enough income to raise Margaret into the world quite satisfactorily, and I shall consider my work done very well indeed!' He picked up his newspaper and began to thumb through its pages once more.

‘But I do not think Lavenham is the right fellow either!' replied his wife thoughtfully. ‘He is too much the dandy, and she has too much taste to accept him. No, I feel that your sister must not set her sights too high, for I believe she would be most uncomfortable to be raised to that style of living to which she could never become used. I have been thinking, you know, for some time now, that Brinsley might be the fellow.'

The newspaper dropped to the table. ‘Albert Brinsley?' exclaimed her husband with righteous disgust. ‘But he is forty, and in trade!'

‘Indeed,' remarked Fanny, coolly. ‘I did a great wrong to your half-sister in thinking she might be introduced to society in town. She is a beauty, but you are quite right, she has no fortune, and she is at heart, that type of girl whom would never fit in well in the society that Ambrose moves in. Her country manners and ways just would not be tolerated. Only think of his introducing her at Charlton Park! We would of course benefit from the connection, but would she be comfortable?'

‘Yes, yes—' stammered a now doubtful and somewhat put out John Dashwood, ‘that is all very well, but—a country girl, to be sure—although Charlton Park would be a fine place to someday mention as being the residence of my own sister—and my sister is not so far removed from gentility as to only hope for the affections of a geriatric purveyor of carpets!'

‘No, you must not canvass it, or you will make yourself dissatisfied! You know very well, Mr Dashwood, that they say you can take the girl from the country but one cannot take the country from the girl. A Charlton Park will never do for a Miss Margaret Dashwood. No, I will hold for it but Brinsley is the right man for your sister. He has a permanent residence in Surry—or Southampton—or somewhere in those parts—his income is tolerable, and he has been a widower for these ten or twelve months—I feel certain an introduction will be welcomed on both sides. You shall see her married off quite suitably, and you shall be the celebrated author of the union! I shall leave you to organize it, for I have much to see to as it is. But until you can bring them together my dear, I shall myself do as much as I can to discourage poor Ambrose from the scheme he has got into his head of marrying Miss Margaret Dashwood and raising her up to a position in society which I am sure, while it would reflect so well upon you , she herself could never find comfortable!'

‘But—but Brinsley is certainly not the fellow for her—I think, my love, it will have to be, yes I am certain it must be Ambrose, I suppose, if he is so keen. I merely dislike the idea of her being unhappy—but why should she be unhappy if she has an establishment like Rannocks and a fine income to run it? No, you are quite right?—!'

Fanny, taking another slice of toast, buttered it smugly and said nothing more.