Jeeves and the Wedding Bells(75)

Sir Henry cleared his throat with a bark. ‘Bobby Etringham’s going to take the stable block and the home farm for his school scheme. His lawyer’s going to send the papers next week. But it still won’t meet all the requirements of the estate.’

There followed a delicate exchange on matters financial. Georgiana’s inheritance, it transpired, was comparable in size to the Wooster war chest; so if I could foot the necessary bills until the Meadowes trust came into its own in a few years’ time … I quickly indicated a willingness to open up the pocket book to whatever extent would clinch the deal, starting with a cheque to S. Venables for the money he had lost with the Dorchester bookies.

Sir Henry did not exactly throw his bonnet over the windmill at this point, but he exhaled a big one and nodded a few times as it sank in.

‘I’ve changed my will,’ he said eventually. ‘In the absence of any male heir, which is a great regret to me, I shall be leaving the Hall jointly to Amelia and Georgiana. This Beeching is clearly a clever fellow and will take silk in no time. I have no doubts of his sincerity where Amelia is concerned. She’s too young to be married, really, but what can I do?’

‘Indeed,’ I said, rather feebly.

‘That leaves Georgiana,’ he said.

‘She’s a wonderful girl.’

‘I know,’ said the old baronet. ‘I love her like a daughter. I swore a solemn oath to her late father, who loved her too …’

For the second time that evening there was a bit of handkerchief work, Sir Henry being less of a dabber than a dasher.

‘She’s made up her mind. God knows why she …’ He pulled himself up short. ‘Anyway. She’s a darn clever girl. She reads between the lines. She understands things I don’t. I trust her. Do you love her, Wooster?’

‘You bet I do, Sir Henry. And I always will.’

The old chap nodded once more, a trifle wistfully, it seemed to me. ‘All right, then. Go on. Marry her.’

At this point I think I may have made it a straight hat-trick for the eye-dabbing tendency. I don’t recall exactly; but if so, it was not for long, since there followed a manly handshake and a swift return to the drawing room where something about my expression must have given the game away, since, before I could even open my mouth, a pandemonium of cheering and clapping had broken out, while from the grand piano came the strains of ‘The Wedding March’.

It was a few days before I found myself alone again with Jeeves. My time had been filled with back-slapping, telegrams and celebrations, culminating in a gruelling dinner at the Drones after which Freddie Widgeon was arrested on the way home for singing a Marie Lloyd song in Albemarle Street.

‘Jeeves,’ I said, ‘may we speak frankly?’

‘Of course, sir.’

It was another fine morning and I had little to do until twelve-thirty, at which time I had arranged to meet Georgiana for an early lunch.

‘I’ve always understood that in the event of my getting hitched you’d be giving in your notice. Is that right?’

‘Yes, sir. It has been my invariable custom to terminate my employment under such circumstances.’

‘So it’s the parting of the ways, is it?’

Jeeves glanced out of the window for a moment, then looked down at this shoes. There was something a little shifty in his manner. ‘Not necessarily, sir. Perhaps I can explain.’

‘Explain away, old friend.’

‘In the event that a gentleman’s personal gentleman were simultaneously to contemplate matrimony of his own accord, I feel that the propriety of the arrangement might be maintained.’

‘You what?’

‘I am also engaged to be married, sir.’

‘Good heavens, Jeeves. Who to?’

‘Mrs Tilman, sir.’

The power of speech had left me and I sat down heavily on the sofa.

‘I knew Mrs Tilman when she was Miss Charlton, sir, in the employ of Sir Henry Dalgleish. I was unable to press my suit at the time as I had an understanding with another young lady. The unfortunate demise of Mr Tilman, however …’

‘I see.’

‘Mrs Tilman is a most excellent lady.’

‘I know, Jeeves. My heartfelt congratulations.’

‘Thank you, sir. She thinks highly of you, as well, sir, if I may say so. She was most helpful to me in the course of our stay at Melbury Hall.’

‘Come again?’

‘I informed her that you had played the part of Bottom, the weaver, while at school and it was she who suggested to Sir Henry that the scene from A Midsummer Night’s Dream would make an apt conclusion to the evening. Sir Henry depends on her a good deal.’