‘I cannot think that, sir,’ she laughed, ‘but will give you my considered opinion at the end of the evening. And, furthermore, I shall not be able to make a judgement on the state of your addled wits unless you are able to escort me into supper.’
She knew she sounded too forward and flirtatious, but how else could she respond to the tumultuous emotions that filled her at the very sight of him? He was so breathtakingly handsome in his formal evening dress and his well-cut hairstyle, which showed no evidence at all of his skirmish with the ruffian who had attacked him. He appeared to be absolutely unaffected by the experience; indeed, seemed calm and confident at the prospect of the pleasures of the evening before them.
Now he laughed immediately and with great pleasure at her obvious invitation. ‘My own feelings exactly,’ he said softly. ‘Indeed, my heart’s wish would be to escort you into supper, dear Miss Grayson. I shall hold you to your promise.’
Their eyes met and held and suddenly Charlotte’s confidence almost deserted her when she saw the unmistakeable gleam in his dark eyes. She changed the subject quickly. ‘Have you found out any more from Mr Bunfield?’
‘Well, a few more details of the shipwreck, but it is early days yet and we shall be pursuing further enquiries in Cromer. Meanwhile, I agreed to keep my eyes and ears open for anything that might be significant.’
He was still gazing compellingly at her and this evening Charlotte was feeling in a flamboyant mood. She knew she was looking her best in a fashionably low-cut gown, with her hair dressed high in formal ringlets at the back and more casual curls framing her beautiful face, which at this moment was alight with mischief and pleasure. She flirted her fan at him and Hugo was surprised at the sudden ease that he felt, talking to a woman he had formerly thought of as difficult and aggressive.
He was silent now and Charlotte was suddenly serious. ‘I do not know whether it is either wise or safe for you to continue with your enquiries. I only know that I must warn you to be careful.’
‘As I warned you, if you remember,’ he said, also serious now.
‘True. But now we shall have to part soon, or the gossips will be having a field day. It is a pity we have not the opportunity to speak more freely.’
Hugo smiled. ‘Au contraire, I thought we were speaking freely.’
Charlotte was also obliged to smile at this. ‘Yes, but in very restricted circumstances. If you should think of any way that I might be of help in this, you may visit us at any time. Mama has never been a she-dragon over callers and Papa always used to encourage any down-at-heel waif or stray who came to our house for help.’
Hugo’s lips twitched at the idea of himself as a down-at-heel waif or stray, but he answered with admirable gravity: ‘I never realized that your mama was so civil to me because she had me down as a waif or a stray. Which am I, do you think? Does “waif” describe me to a tee, or does “stray” fit me more accurately?’
She laughed again. ‘Odious man, you deliberately misunderstand me. And now I must go and join Mama and the others.’
Hugo bowed and Charlotte retreated back to Matthew and Lavinia, leaving Hugo still smiling at their exchange.
His smile soon disappeared as his cousin Alfred materialized silently at the side of him, his manner quite changed from what it had been in the coach.
‘Quite a looker, ain’t she?’ He said it with such leering innuendo that Hugo was inclined to plant him a facer. Only his well-bred social discipline prevented it. He said nothing and merely cocked a disdainful eyebrow, but Alfred carried on regardless.
‘But she is a bit of a hoyden, coz. Any man brave enough to wed her would be grasping a tiger by the tail, eh? Still, I must go over and pay my respects. She will expect it and might favour me with one of her smiles, or even a waltz.’
He left Hugo, and sauntered languidly over to Mrs Grayson and her daughters, leaving Hugo furious. He’d never liked his cousin Alfred. Even as boys, they were never good friends, and he found that the passing years had made him even more conscious of his dislike of Alfred’s oily personality.
As for Charlotte, she was obliged to greet Alfred politely and she allowed herself to be led on to the floor with a good grace, but was impatient, wishing it were time for Hugo to claim her to go into supper. She was obliged to be discreet, however. Her earlier conversation and banter with Hugo would not have gone unnoticed and she must not do any more to draw attention to their sudden and close alliance over the murder of Hugo’s grandfather. Her continued thoughts of Hugo Westbury and her preoccupation with his investigations must not be allowed to overwhelm her entirely.
Alfred was as usual dressed in the height of fashion, with more than a hint of the dandy about him and, looking at his splendid waistcoat, she wondered where his money came from. Mrs Palmer, the purveyor of all the village gossip, was adamant that Mr Alfred’s pockets were always to let and that he was looking out for a wealthy young bride, ‘or even a careless widder’, she sniffed, disapprovingly.
It became clear to Charlotte that Alfred was determined to press his attentions on her and she was soon concentrating so hard on not allowing him to pull her too close and in politely fending off his unwanted endearments, that she was unable to enjoy the dance at all.
She’d given no hint of the repugnance she felt at Alfred soliciting her hand for a waltz, merely accepting his invitation coolly, with no sign that she found him so unattractive. Looked at objectively, he was quite a good-looking young man. Not as striking as his cousin Hugo and if Mrs Palmer and others were to be believed, not as tall and strongly handsome as Sir Benjamin had once been. Good-looking all the same. No, it was not Alfred’s appearance that she found so obnoxious but some primeval inexplicable woman’s instinct that told her that he was dangerous. She didn’t need Hugo Westbury’s dire warnings to have nothing to do with his cousin; her own common sense warned her not to trust him. She knew in her innermost heart that he was not a good prospect for any respectable woman and she resolved to avoid him as much as possible.
Her instincts were borne out by his behaviour during the dance. She realized regretfully that her foolish acceptance of his proposed trip to Sheringham had been a stupid move. After all, she’d no intention of taking up his invitation, even if Mama agreed to it. As it was, he seemed to have the idea that he held some attraction for her. She bitterly regretted the encouragement she’d given him just to try to anger Hugo Westbury. The embarrassing innuendo of Alfred’s softly whispered remarks, the too-tight clasp of his moist hand at her waist and the way he stared fixedly at her bosom in the low-cut dress would make most young women steer very clear of him. Why had she been so stupid as to agree to his suggested Sheringham trip? She dealt with his brazen importuning by deliberately turning her thoughts to more pleasant subjects. She danced mechanically, determined not to respond to his suggestive overtures in any way. Her dogged perseverance in the face of his unwelcome behaviour did not endear her to him and was made the more difficult for Charlotte by the need to remain polite and not cause a scene.
It was obvious that her steady rejection of him angered him far more than any strong protestations on her part could have done, and finally he was moved to remark angrily, ‘It is your choice, Miss Grayson, to reject me in favour of my well-to-do cousin, Hugo, who has no more sense than to stick his nose into long-forgotten deeds which do not concern him.’
In spite of her preoccupation with trying to thwart his amorous intentions, Charlotte registered the significance of this remark and stored it silently for future reference. It was difficult for her to give Alfred her full attention in any case, because at that moment she noticed the usually pleasant Matthew glowering from the edge of the dance floor. Even when the dance ended and Alfred escorted her to her seat, he still continued to hang on to her relentlessly, being as charming as he knew how and including her mama and Kitty in the conversation as much as possible.
At last, Matthew led Kitty away to the supper room and George and Lavinia followed them, but still A
lfred Westbury held on. It was obvious that he was angling for another opportunity to see her and he floated several ideas, in addition to walking in Sheringham, which included a river trip and picnic and even a riding party in the grounds of Westbury Hall, with lunch alfresco. Charlotte wondered fleetingly whether he’d asked permission from Sir Benjamin for this last idea. She doubted it. She observed that her mama was silent but watchful during several more minutes of his inane conversation. But he finally took his leave, having remembered that he was to meet an old friend in the card room. She was relieved when she saw Hugo coming towards them.
He gave Charlotte and her mama an elegant bow and said, ‘Miss Grayson, I trust you have not forgotten our supper engagement.’ Then with his most winning smile, ‘Mrs Grayson, ma’am. May I be allowed to escort two charming ladies into supper?’
Jane Grayson returned his smile with one which was very reminiscent of her daughter’s and said, ‘I am sorry, Mr Westbury. It is extremely kind of you, but I am to be escorted by Squire Perkins.’
Hugo bowed again and offered Charlotte his arm and led her into supper. He was punctilious in making sure she had what she desired from the buffet table and that the footman filled her wine glass as soon as she was seated.
‘Your very good health, Miss Grayson,’ he said, and nudged her glass gently with his own.
She responded with a sparkling smile, as he knew she would, and then he said very softly, ‘I feared that you were avoiding me when I was attacked by that ruffian. I had been walking towards Felbrook on the off chance that we might meet and possibly see Lucy Baker, of course.’
‘Oh,’ she said, somewhat at a loss. ‘Well, at least if we gave Lucy a little outing, we could perhaps speak more privately.’
He laughed. ‘We are alone at this table. No one can overhear us. I wonder what exactly it is, Miss Grayson, that you have to say to me that is so private and confidential?’
She coloured a little but said, ‘You know exactly what I mean. Pray do not pretend, sir, to be so lacking in understanding of a woman’s … curiosity … I want to hear all about that ruffian’s attack on you. What had you done to deserve it? What was the object of such a heinous crime in peaceful Felbrook?’
He laughed again, not answering her question directly, but with no trace of condescension or mockery. He found it so easy to talk to her now that their initial antipathy seemed to have worn off.
Charlotte used no subterfuges, was never arch or simpering, like other young women he had known. He’d never found it so easy to converse with a woman on equal terms and he was enjoying it, having quite forgotten now his original intention to win her affection in order to teach her a lesson. He realized he’d forgotten it some time ago. If he hadn’t been so accursed high and mighty in the beginning, they would have been friends before now.
Her voice was also low as she said, ‘One of the things I most miss about Papa is his conversation. Kitty and I could talk to him with utter frankness on any subject under the sun. In society, it is sometimes difficult for women to speak on matters which … which … may even affect us more than most….’
She looked him in the eye. ‘I want you to know that whatever you discover about the sad circumstances of your grandfather’s death, I appreciate your willingness to share your findings with me. It is just what Papa would have done.’
He was silent for a moment and then he said gravely, ‘I am flattered at your interest, Miss Grayson. And now, let us have another glass of champagne.’
Once more, they toasted each other and then he said, ‘Perhaps we may meet on Sunday, after Sunday school?’
‘On Sunday, then,’ she agreed.
CHAPTER TEN
It was not to be supposed that her actions had gone unnoticed and the next morning, Charlotte Grayson received a visit from Matthew King, who was both hurt and angry at the obvious deepening of the relationship between herself and Hugo Westbury.
Jane Grayson, fully aware of the implications for the planned betrothal of her eldest daughter, left them alone and indicated to Kitty that she should go and help Mrs Palmer in the kitchen.
‘Really, Charlotte,’ Matthew exclaimed as soon as the drawing-room door shut behind them. ‘It is the outside of enough that my aunt and I have had to endure all the gossip and sly hints from the neighbourhood tabbies at your reprehensible behaviour last evening.’
Charlotte was coldly polite. ‘What behaviour is that, pray?’
‘Why, your lengthy tête-à-tête with Hugo Westbury, in full view of the whole neighbourhood.’
‘Nonsense,’ she said, even more frostily. ‘It was perfectly respectable and our conversation was open for anyone to join us at any time. We were not attempting any illicit or unsuitable communication. You were certainly welcome to join us. But perhaps you were too busy with your own tête-à-tête with my sister,’ she added pointedly.
Matthew said nothing for a moment. His face went first red and then deathly white. ‘That is unworthy of you, Charlotte,’ he said, visibly shaken. ‘It makes me realize that all my hopes for our future have come to nothing. We can never now achieve happiness together.’
Charlotte was also shaken. For the first time, she was obliged to face up to the reality of a married life with Matthew, a clever and pleasant man, but one whom she did not love. In the last few weeks, she’d come to recognize that the understanding she’d had with Matthew King, which had promised a comfortable and secure future, was now at an end. This thought was somewhat like looking down into an abyss. Suddenly, she felt her whole future was empty and uncertain. She was twenty years old and if the love that she’d been able to count on was withdrawn so absolutely, perhaps she would never meet a suitable husband. Perversely, now that he was crying off, she remembered only the happy times of their relationship and regretted the gap that it would leave in her life. Conflicting emotions filled her. Overwhelmingly, though, her feelings were of relief, as she realized that she’d never valued the promise of their betrothal. In her secret heart, she was unable to believe totally in the idea that she could be wholly happy with Matthew King. Meeting Hugo Westbury had shown her the possibility of a passionate and wholly unconditional love that could be a much more exciting basis for a married life. Even if her secret hopes and dreams came to nothing, she thought, at least her eyes were now widely open as to what a deeply loving marriage could and should be.
She’d remained calm in the face of Matthew’s anger and disappointment and didn’t allow any of these mixed feelings to show in her face. She kept her expression neutral as she said, ‘If that is your wish, Matthew, I am happy to release you from any agreement that existed between us. I hope I will always be your friend, but I am thankful that we were never formally betrothed.’
Ears stretched and abnormally aware of the drama being played out in the drawing-room, Mrs Grayson and Kitty, standing in the kitchen with Mrs Palmer, heard the wall-shaking slam of the front door as Matthew took his leave. Indeed, everyone in the house heard it and it was to be a talking point of Mrs Palmer’s for days to come.
Charlotte’s mother and sister both felt it would be best not to broach the subject of the quarrel with Matthew and if they noticed that Charlotte was unusually quiet, decided not to comment on it. Jane Grayson did what she always did in times of family crisis. She cooked a special meal, which was Charlotte’s favourite – slow roasted lamb with a creamy onion sauce, accompanied by home-grown potatoes and fresh little garden peas. In spite of her rather subdued mood, Charlotte was hungry and anyway, tomorrow was Sunday and she would see Hugo again. As for Kitty, her tender young heart was wrung by her sister’s situation and she knew that Matthew must also be suffering. She was the only one who failed to do justice to Mama’s excellent dinner.
Matthew made straight for his aunt’s cottage after the parting from Charlotte and moodily declined all offers of refreshments or wine. Lavinia could see that he was not his usual pleasant self and surmised, quite rightly, that it was to do with Charlotte Grayson. She waited
tactfully until they were seated in her cosy parlour, each with a glass of mellow sherry, awaiting the arrival of Adam Brown, before trying her subtle tactics to encourage him to confide in her.
‘Matthew, dear, I have something to tell you.’
‘Oh yes?’ he said, with minimal interest.
‘Matthew … you like Adam, don’t you?’
‘Oh yes. Splendid fellow.’
‘Matthew … last night, Adam … asked me to … to marry him. And I said yes, Matthew.’
‘Did you, by Jove? Well, Aunt, congratulations. I cannot pretend that it is unexpected.’
‘You mean … you guessed?’
He smiled for the first time since he had come home. ‘A blind man with both his eyes shut could guess, dear Aunt.’
‘Good gracious!’ she exclaimed, blushing. ‘But what of your own courtship, my dear? When are you and the lovely Charlotte Grayson to be betrothed?’
‘Never,’ he said moodily and scowled at his glass.
‘Oh, no, please do not tell me you have quarrelled,’ she said, distressed at the finality of his tone.
‘More than that. We should never suit, Aunt Lavinia. We both realize it. Please do not be tempted to pursue it. Charlotte and I will be friends only from now on.’
‘But how dreadful.’
‘Not at all,’ he said quickly. ‘It is for the best. And do not let it interfere with your own happiness.’ He stood up, smiling, and held out a hand to her. ‘You look far too young to be an aunt when you blush like that. And now, dearest of aunts, I hear Adam coming, so we must set out to be cheerful and entertain him.’
That same morning, Hugo Westbury had occasion to visit some of the estate cottages, including that of the Bakers and, it not being Sunday, he had no reason to suppose he might see Charlotte, but even so, a little germ of hope lingered within him and he was disappointed not to meet her. Having asked Mrs Baker’s permission to take Lucy for a ride with himself and Miss Grayson, he was further disappointed by the news that little Lucy was ill and would not be going either to Sunday school or on any outing, so he returned home. There he found his cousin Alfred ensconced in the drawing-room with a decanter of sherry and some small cakes in front of him.
A Particular Circumstance Page 15