Page 35 of Twice Shy
‘You need not call me out, for I shall call you out, Villain.’
‘Stop being histrionic. If you want to behave like thatyou should be on the stage.’
‘You cannot refuse to meet me and call yourself a man of honour,’ goaded Mr Escott.
‘Not only could I do so, but the reverse is true. If you174think meeting a feckless greenhorn like you at dawn would show me in an honourable light, you are far off the mark. For goodness’ sake, grow up and behave like a sane man, if that is possible.’
‘You don’t understand.’ Mr Escott sounded petulant.
‘No, I probably do not, but it does not make my wordsless true.’
‘I cannot write without her,’ wailed Escott.
‘It is my opinion that not writing would do you the world of good.’ It could not be said that Sir Lucius was going out of his way to be placatory.
‘You have no poetic soul,’ bemoaned the tortured poet, almost wringing his hands.
‘No.’
‘She is perfection. She is inspiration. She is—’
‘A young woman who does not deserve that you make her acutely embarrassed,’ Sir Lucius observed.
Gregory Escott was nearly hopping from one foot to the other, and looked like a cat preparing to pounce. Sir Lucius appeared unconcerned, but was fully prepared.
‘Philistine!’ cried Mr Escott, rocking on the balls of his feet.
‘I say, you can’t go around shouting things like that, Escott.’ Lord Bensthorpe, who had turned into Green Park to take the shady route to a meeting of the Patrons of St George’s Hospital at Hyde Park Corner, spoke most reprovingly. He had espied Sir Lucius and the irate poet, and approached, frowning.
‘This is no matter of yours, my lord,’ Escott declared pompously.175
‘Dashed well is if you start insulting my friends, and if,’ Lord Bensthorpe announced, noting Mr Escott’s pugnacious stance, ‘you think you can start a mill in Green Park then you are very mistaken. Terribly bad ton. Ladies might see, if,’ he added honestly, ‘there should be any about. That is, they would see Lucius draw your cork within seconds. Not nice. Might faint. The ladies that is, not Lucius.’
Sir Lucius watched, amused, as Mr Escott digested this slightly confused speech.
‘Escott, you have no knowledge of Miss Ashling whatsoever. All you have is an image in your head, and upon which you let your over fertile imagination feed.’ Sir Lucius drove home his point. ‘What was at first merely mildly embarrassing is fast becoming unsavoury and unpleasant. If you have any feeling towards the lady at all, you will desist in this theatrical and highly unbecoming pursuit of her, and keep your muses purely imaginary.’
‘Thus leaving the way open for yourself, Sir Lucius.’
Sir Lucius scowled. ‘You know, despite Bensthorpe’s sound advice, I may just plant you a facer anyway, you impertinent cub.’
‘Best not, Lucius.’ Bensthorpe laid a hand upon his friend’s sleeve. ‘Not seemly here. Come with me to St George’s.’
‘I am not a patron, Bensthorpe.’
‘Er, no, but it is a devilish good cause so perhaps you might become one,’ offered Lord Bensthorpe, with a hint of desperation.
Sir Lucius laughed. Mr Escott found himself suddenly sidelined and was prey to mixed emotions. Part of him, obviously, wanted violent action, but a good upbringing176gave him a voice within his head that acknowledged the Awful Truth, with capital letters. There seemed no easy way to withdraw from the encounter without considerable loss of face. He caught Lord Bensthorpe’s eye, and there was some sympathy in the gaze.
‘Not quite up to snuff yet, Escott, dear boy. Everyone makes mistakes, so best put this down to experience and toddle off like a good fellow. No point in making a cake of yourself, eh?’
Mr Escott looked almost beseechingly at Sir Lucius, and gabbled some incoherent phrases in which an apology was at least indicated. Then he raised his hat and stalked away with as much dignity as he could manage, which was not a lot.
‘Looby,’ muttered Sir Lucius.
‘No real harm in the boy, Lucius, and we have all suffered calf love at some point in youth.’
‘Oh, this was not love, but “poetry”. He thought I had unpoetic designs upon his muse.’
