Georgette Heyer - The Black Moth

"Oh, dear! How much must you have, Tracy?"

"Five hundred might suffice."

"Tracy, do not the estates bring in anything?" she asked petulantly. "And Andrew told us you had a run of marvellous luck not a fortnight since?"

"Since then, my dear, I have had three runs of marvellous ill-luck. As to the estates, they are mortgaged up to the hilt, as you very well know. What little there is is between three. And Robert is extravagant."

"I hate Robert!"

"I am not partial to him myself, but it makes no odds."

"I wish he might die!-oh no, no! Now I am become ill-natured again-I don't wish it-only I am so tired of everything. You shall have that money as soon as possible; but be careful, Tracy-please be careful! 'Tis not easy to get money from Dick!"

"No, I should imagine not. However, we have managed rather well up to the present, take it all in all."

"Up to the present he has had all the money he wanted. My lord denied him nought!"

"Well, 'tis unfortunate, as I said before, but it must be endured. Where is Dick?"

"I know not. You will stay to dinner, Tracy?"

"Thank you. I shall be charmed."

"Yes, yes-oh, how prodigiously pleasant it is to see you again! Soon I shall come to Andover. Will you let me stay a few days?"

"The question is, will Richard allow you to stay so long in my contaminating presence?"

"Richard would never keep me away, Tracy!" she replied proudly. "He could not. Oh, why is it that I don't love him more? Why do I not care for him as much as I care for you even?"

"My dear Lavinia, like all Belmanoirs, you care first for yourself and secondly for the man who masters you. That, alas! Richard has not yet succeeded in doing."

"But I do love Richard. I do, I do, yet-"

"Exactly. 'Yet!' The 'grand passion' has not yet touched you, my dear, and you are quite self-absorbed."

"Self-absorbed! Those are hard words."

"But not too hard for the case. You think solely of yourself, your own pleasure, your own character, your own feelings. If you could cast yourself into the background a little, you would be less excitable and considerably less discontented."

"How dare you, Tracy! Pray, what of you? Are you so selfless?"

"Not at all. I am precisely the same. I was merely suggesting that you might be happier an you could depose 'self.'"

"You had best do the same yourself!"

"My dear Lavinia, when I feel the need of greater happiness, I most undoubtedly shall. At present I am quite content."

"You are unkind!" she protested. "And you sneer at me."

"Pray, accept my heartfelt apologies! You shall come to Andover if the worthy Richard permits."

Her face cleared as by magic.

"Oh, Tracy! Oh, I am so desirous to be gay once more! I cannot even receive now, on account of this mourning! But when I am at Andover-oh, we will not worry over anything, and I can be bad-tempered without feeling that someone is being hurt by me! Oh, come to Dicky at once-at once!"

He rose leisurely.

"I can imagine that you try Richard's patience somewhat," he remarked. "Happily, your impetuosity in no way disturbs me. We will go in search of Richard."

Half-way down the great staircase she perceived her husband, and flew to meet him.

"Richard, I was coming in search of you! Tracy has invited me to Andover for a week-he purposes to ask several people to stay, and there will be parties-and entertainment! You will let me go? Say yes, Dick say yes, quickly!"

Carstares bowed to his Grace, who stood watching them from the stairs. The bow was returned with exaggerated flourish. Carstares looked down at his wife.

"So soon, Lavinia?" he remonstrated, and indicated her mourning. She shook his hand off impatiently.

"Oh, Dicky, does it matter? What can it signify? I do not ask you to come-"

"No," he said half-sadly, half-amusedly. "I notice that, my dear."

"No, no! I did not mean to be unkind-you must not think that! You don't think it, do you, Dick?"

"Oh, no," he sighed.

"Good Dicky!" She patted his cheek coaxingly. "Then you will allow me to go-ah, but yes, yes, you must listen! You know how dull I am, and how silly-'tis because I need a change, and I want to go to Andover. I want to go!"

"Yes, dear, I know. But my father is not yet dead six weeks, and I cannot think it seemly-"

"Please, Dick, please! Please do not say no! 'Twill make me so unhappy! Oh, you will not be so unkind? You will not forbid me to go?"

"I ask you not to, Lavinia. If you need a change, I will take you quietly to Bath, or where you will. Do not pain me by going to Andover just now."

"Bath! Bath! What do I want with Bath at this time of the year? Oh, 'tis kind in you to offer, but I want to go to Andover! I want to see all the old friends again. And I want to get away from everything here-'tis all so gloomy-after-after my lord's death!"

"Dearest, of course you shall go away-but if only you would remember that you are in mourning-"

"But 'tis what I wish to forget! Oh, Dicky, don't, don't, don't be unkind."

"Very well, dear. If you must go-go."

She clapped her hands joyfully.

"Oh thank you, Dicky! And you are not angry with me?"

"No, dear, of course not."

"Ah! Now I am happy! 'Tis sweet of you, Dicky, but confess you are secretly thankful to be rid of me for a week! Now are you not?" She spread out her fan in the highest good-humour and coquetted behind it. Richard was induced to smile.

"I fear I shall miss you too sadly, dear."

"Oh!" She dropped the fan. "But think how you will look forward to seeing me again, and I you. Why, I shall be so thankful to be back after a week away, that I shall be good for months!"

His face lightened, and he caught her hands in his.

"Darling, if I thought you would miss me-"

"But of course I shall miss you, Dick-oh, pray, mind my frock! Shall I not miss him, Tracy?"

Richard suddenly remembered his brother-in-law's presence. He turned and went to the foot of the stairs.

"So you are determined to wrest my wife from me?" he smiled.

Tracy descended leisurely, opening his snuff-box.

"Yes, I require a hostess," he said. "And I have"-he paused-"induced her to honour Andover with her presence. Shall we have the felicity of seeing you at any time?"

"I thank you, no. I am not, you will understand, in the mood for the gaiety for which my poor Lavinia craves."

The Duke bowed slightly, and they all three went out on to the terrace, Lavinia laughing and talking as Richard had not heard her laugh or talk for days. She was the life and soul of the little dinner-party, flirting prettily with her husband and exerting herself to please him in every way. She had won her point; therefore she was in excellent spirits with all the world, and not even the spilling of some wine on her new silk served to discompose her.

THE autumn and the winter passed smoothly, and April found the Carstares installed at Bath, whither Lady Lavinia had teased her husband into going, despite his desire to return to Wyncham and John. She herself did not care to be with the child, and was perfectly content that Richard should journey occasionally to Wyncham to see that all was well with him.

On the whole, she had enjoyed the winter, for she had induced Richard to open Wyncham House, Mayfair, the Earl's town residence, where she had been able to hold several entirely successful routs, and many select little card-parties. Admirers she had a-many, and nothing so pleased her vain little heart as masculine adulation. Carstares never entered his home without stumbling against some fresh flame of hers, but as they mostly consisted of what he rudely termed the lap-dog type, he was conscious of no jealous qualms, and patiently submitted to their inundation of his house. He was satisfied that Lavinia was happy, and, as he assured himself at times when he was most tried, nothing else signified.

The only flaw to Lavinia's content was the need of money. Not that she was stinted, or ever refused anything that he could in reason give her; but her wants were never reasonable. She would demand a new town chariot, upholstered in pale blue, not because her own was worn or shabby, but because she was tired of its crimson cushions. Or she would suddenly take a fancy to some new, and usually fabulously expensive toy, and having acquired it, weary of it in a week.

Without a murmur, Richard gave her lap-dogs (of the real kind), black pages, jewels, and innumerable kickshaws, for which she rewarded him with her brightest smiles and tenderest caresses. But when she required him to refurnish Wyncham House in the style of the French Court, throwing away all the present Queen Anne furniture, the tapestries, and the countless old trappings that were one and all so beautiful and so valuable, he put his foot down with a firmness that surprised her. Not for any whim of hers was Jack's house to be spoiled. Neither her coaxing nor her tears had any effect upon Richard, and when she reverted to sulks, he scolded her so harshly that she was frightened, and in consequence silenced.

For a week she thought and dreamt of nothing but gilded French chairs, and then abruptly, as all else, the fancy left her, and she forgot all about it. Her mantua-maker's bills were enormous, and caused Richard many a sleepless night, but she was always so charmingly penitent that he could not find it in his heart to be angry; and, after all, he reflected, he would rather have his money squandered on her adornment than on that of her brothers. She was by turns passionate and cold to him: one day enrapturing him by some pretty blandishment, the next snapping peevishly when he spoke to her.