Corsair Pt. 01 Ch. 05: Rhubarb

"What is it?" asked Fiona. "Do please come on, we shall be late."

"Indeed, but convention demands..."

"Come on!"

"... that either you don your blouse or button your jacket. Or, indeed, both."

"Oh!" said Fiona, slipping hurriedly out of her jacket. "Thank you. Indeed it does."

"And before you do either," said Andrew, dropping to his knees in front of her, "I must again inspect my posessions."

"Oh yes," said Fiona, as his lips closed over her nipple, blouse and jacket discarded on the ground. "You must do that."

-----

Scones and tea awaited them in the drawing room, attended by a frosty Lady Campbell and a hovering maid.

Fiona and Andrew apologised for their lateness; the maid laid out cups and saucers; Lady Campbell poured.

They sipped tea. After a few moments, Fiona begged leave to be excused.

She left.

Andrew cleared his throat.

"Lady Campbell," he said, "I know that I have not the means to keep Miss Campbell in the style to which she is accustomed, nor may I reasonably hope to achieve such means. Yet I have the means to keep her in decent and respectable comfort. Would it be acceptable to you if I were to solicit her hand in marriage?"

"Lieutenant Smith," said Lady Campbell, "I am aware that, through the exigencies of the late conflict -- and largely through the great and sad attrition of your betters -- you, and others of your class, have been promoted to the rank of officer in the King's Navy. And, since you were able to skulk safely under the waves in your far away backwater while the flower of the Empire's chivalry fought and died on the open fields of France, you have survived where they have perished. I congratulate you on your good fortune."

Her tea-cup rattled slightly as she put it down in the saucer.

"Do not," she said, "do not for one moment assume that this elevates you to the rank of gentleman. The matter of your fortune, or lack of it, is not of issue here. What is of issue is your breeding. I know not through what grubby trade such wealth as you may have was accumulated, nor do I care. My daughter shall marry a gentleman. Do I make myself clear?"

"Admirably clear, Lady Campbell," said Andrew. "I am indebted to you for your candour. And now, I fear, having gravely overstayed my welcome, I should take my leave of you. Pray convey my excuses to Miss Campbell."

He got up, gravely, bowed slightly, and went to the door.

Fiona came in; she had removed her jacket, and was wearing, now, a light corset under her blouse.

"Ah, my dear," said Lady Campbell, "I see that you have not, after all, forgotten entirely how to dress. Come in, and sit down. Smith is just leaving."

"My apologies, Miss Campbell. A matter has arisen; I fear I must leave immediately. I bid you adieu for now. I trust that you will enjoy the moonlight swin you spoke of this evening. I shall write."

"But Andrew..."

"Sit down, my dear Fiona. Smith is leaving."

Fiona stood stricken, her eyes going from one to the other. Andrew went out. She sipped her tea in silence. After a surprisingly short time, the engine of the Renault coughed, and grumbled into life. There was a crunching of gravel and the beat of the motor, passing the window behind her, and fading into distance.

She bit her lip to hold the tears back.