Langdown Manor by Sue Reid

I. I put my head in my hands and groaned. What would Uncle say when he saw what I was wearing?
    He reached the car.
    â€˜Young fool!’ he said again. ‘Don’t you have eyes in your head? You could have had us all killed.’ The fury in his eyes encompassed me.
    â€˜Get out of that motor,’ he said. George climbed out obediently like a naughty schoolboy. I wished I could crawl away into a hole. ‘Are you all right, Penelope?’ Uncle asked, turning to me. I nodded and he opened the door for me, holding out his hand to help me out. His eyes took in my riding habit, my hatless head, my hair standing up like a brush. ‘You have recovered from your headache, I see?’ he said dryly. I felt myself flush. He shook his head – I could see that he was disappointed in me. ‘George, help your cousin to the house,’ he said. ‘I will see you both in the drawing room.’
    George gave me his arm. ‘I am so sorry,’ he said. Not half as sorry as I was. We made our way slowly up to the house. What would Aunt say when she saw me? Oh why oh why had I ever got into that car?
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    Uncle leaned against the mantelpiece and lit a cigar. George and I were sitting on chairs facing him. I felt like a pupil awaiting the schoolmaster’s scolding. My cup of tea was abandoned on a table to my side. I felt my arm throb, but its steady ache helped distract me. Uncle pulled on his cigar. He looked at George. ‘Explain that – toy – outside if you’d be so good.’ George stared past him into the fireplace.
    â€˜Dash it, Pater. A chap must cut some sort of a figure at university, you know.’
    â€˜So long as that chap can pay for it,’ said Uncle, knocking cigar ash into the grate. Aunt hated Uncle doing this, but now she said nothing. Uncle was so angry, not noisily angry any more, but quiet, which was more frightening.
    â€˜Pater, I’ve put down one payment…’
    â€˜You weren’t thinking of presenting me with a bill for the remainder, were you, George? You already have a very generous allowance,’ Uncle said.
    â€˜Please, Pater, not in front of the girls!’ George pleaded, casting a glance at Arabella and Clemmie. Arabella sat stony-faced. Clemmie was looking as if she’d burst into tears.
    â€˜I think they should hear this,’ said Uncle. ‘After all, the more you fritter away the less there’ll be for your sisters’ dowries.’
    But I didn’t need to hear it, I thought. I shifted uncomfortably on my seat. George’s extravagance and my cousins’ dowries had nothing to do with me. Father sent me an allowance each month, but I had no idea what provision if any had been made for my marriage. If I married…
    â€˜Father!’ George pleaded again.
    â€˜As I said, you have a generous allowance,’ Uncle said calmly. ‘Do you see this house? There is death-watch beetle in one wing and the roof leaks. If you wish to inherit a home rather than a mountain of debt you will need to learn to moderate your spending – and the sooner the better.
    â€˜Nor will I tolerate such reckless behaviour,’ Uncle carried on. ‘You could both have been killed. We could all have been killed!’ His voice had begun to rise. A vein bulged in his neck.
    For some time now I had felt Aunt’s eye on me and now she rose. You deal with George and I will deal with Penelope.
    â€˜I don’t think Penelope needs to hear this. Come, Penelope.’ I’d anticipated a scolding, but at least it would be in private. I followed her into the morning room. Aunt sat down behind the huge desk. I stood in front of it, hands clasped nervously together. I felt like a servant who has not given satisfaction and is expecting dismissal. There was a big bronze paperweight on the desk. I fixed my eyes on it.
    â€˜Sit down,’ Aunt said, gesturing to a chair. I sat.
    â€˜Are you all right, Penelope?