by Edith Layton
“I’m older than you, you know that too. I was brought up in another land, far away from here. I’ve traveled widely since. And so my life has taken many twists and turns. But now, and this I vow, I’ve found you, and I’ll never be untrue. For so long as you live I am yours, with all I have to give.”
“And your family?” she persisted, knowing he was serious, because of the odd poetry that he had spoken, always spoke when he was so sincere.
“What else would you know of it? My sister is of my blood, and in no part of my heart. And you are in my heart, and every other part. And that’s all,” he said. “Now, speaking of those other parts…”
He rose to sit in one swift smooth motion. “Would you like to make sweet, slow love to me? There’s so much more I can show you.”
She laughed. He hadn’t told her much. But she didn’t know what else to ask. “Yes,” she said as she went into the promised sweet oblivion of his embrace. “Yes, Aubrey, please.”
But joyous as it was, and so much as she was eased, when she finally closed her eyes, to sleep at last, she couldn’t forget what she didn’t know enough to ask.
And neither could he.
Chapter 12
Aubrey was gone when Eve awoke in the morning. He had duties now that he was living at the Hall again. He had tenants to discuss rents with, servants to speak to, whether there were guests at his home or not. So he left a sweet, silly note for Eve on her dresser table, all in rhyme, about how he’d see her at dinnertime. She was delighted. A decision had come to her. It was there, whole and reasonable, when she opened her eyes to the sunlight, the way all her best decisions always appeared.
She had to get up immediately, dress well, order a light curricle, and hunt up Sherry. He’d probably be in the morning parlor having his breakfast. He’d go with her, if only so he could drive the curricle, and he’d lend her courage and countenance. She’d make sure all her remaining guests were happy and well occupied, and then she was going to steal off to the village with Sherry to meet everyone she could and learn by artfully posed questions all she could about the history of the Ashfords of Far Isle Hall. She knew a great deal now. But she had a nagging feeling there was more she must know.
The breakfast parlor had a few gentlemen guests already there when she arrived. They were either sportsmen, up early so they could ride or explore, or simply gentlemen who were eating early so as to be ready to leave for their own homes. They rose when they saw her. She gave them a good morning and signaled for them to sit again.
“But wasn’t she beautiful?” Sherry was asking as she sank to her chair.
A hearty gentleman, a local squire, his fork laden with beefsteak, paused it on the way to his mouth. “Thank the lord you’re here, Mrs. Ashford. Your brother will have someone new to sing her praises to. This fellow has been prosing on so much about your husband’s sister that our heads are aching. We were about to order up roasted onions to put on our ears to soothe them.”
“But you ought to have said something!” Sherry exclaimed, his cheeks turning ruddy.
“Didn’t give us a chance,” another gentleman said. “Don’t worry about it, lad. All of us have suffered calf love one time or another.”
“It’s not that,” Sherry said. “I’m sure it’s more profound.”
“As were we all,” the gentleman sighed, as all the others laughed.
“I tell you what, Sherry,” Eve said, seeing a perfect opening. “I need an escort this morning. I’ve an errand to the village.”
“But then when shall we make our farewells, and give you our thanks for such a delightful stay?” one of the men asked.
“I hope this evening, at dinner!” she said, as a good hostess ought. “But should cruel fortune part us before then, we’ll be back by afternoon. That is, if my wretched brother helps me, as I asked.”
The gentlemen smiled at her. Ashford had his pick of all the beauties in London and had chosen her. Their wives might wonder why, but to a man they thought they knew. Mrs. Ashford was charming, and she made a fellow feel right at home, and when you really looked at her, as one whispered to another, she wasn’t bad on the eyes at all.
Eve stopped listening to Sherry’s praise of Arianna after a while. She had learned one thing: to add a note of caution or warning was futile. The first time she did, he turned to look at her as though she’d run mad.
“What?” Sherry had asked, eyes wide.
“Watch the road!” she cried, “You’ll have us in a ditch.”
“You think I’m clunch enough to force the issue of seeing her again?” he said, ignoring her warning. “She’s miles above me, Evie. Miles. I don’t deserve to touch the hem of her gown. That she danced with me at all is a wonder. I’m not rich or madly attractive, and I know that I’m too young for her, thank you very much. Mind, that doesn’t mean she’s too old for me.” He turned attention to his team again and murmured, “It’s just that I know a woman of such beauty, poise, and experience would be mad to think seriously about a fellow like me. But a man can dream, can’t he?”
All Eve could do was nod and mumble agreement. And then listen to him continue to carol about the wonders of her husband’s sister as they drove to the village together.
She had to broach the topic of their visit to the village to him before they got there. And so when he fell into a somber reflective mood, and stopped talking for one minute, she did.
“Actually, Sherry, I have an ulterior purpose in going to the village this morning. I don’t know many people here, and I ought to, I really ought. The Ashfords have lived here forever and…well, the long and short of it is that I want to know more about them. Now, seeing as I’m mistress of the Hall, I can hardly go in and ask anyone directly, can I? It would make them nervous. So I was hoping that you could go to the tavern, have ale with the regulars, and just mention the subject of the Ashfords. You can find out more about your Arianna too that way, you know. And I can go to the dressmaker’s or the market and do the same. Unobtrusively, mind. As though the subject of gossip never entered our minds.”
She looked at him. His mouth was actually open. But not as wide as his eyes.
“What!” he thundered. “You want me to spy? And on whom, I wonder? Not on your Aubrey, I’m sure. Why don’t you come right out with it, Eve? It’s all so you can spy on his sister. Well, I won’t. How could you ask me?”
She straightened her shoulders. “I want us to find out about both of them. Understand, Sherry, I never knew Aubrey had a sister until last night. It made me realize that though I love him dearly, there’s too much I don’t know. He’s not a Bluebeard or a liar. But I just have this feeling that there’s something too painful for him to tell me. And it’s not spying. It’s…” she paused. “It’s research. Now, are you with me, or not? Never fear, whatever I discover I will tell my husband.”
They argued about it all the way into the village.
Then Sherry heaved a sigh. “All right. I’ve only the one sister and so does he…I think. And I’d certainly be mad at you if you hadn’t told him about me. But just today, just this once, and never again.”
“I love you, brother,” Eve said sincerely as they rode down the main street of the little village.
Sheridan sauntered to the tavern. He’d be sure to get an audience. The rig he drove was spanking new and fashionable. Eve didn’t doubt he’d caught every man’s eye as he’d tooled it toward the center of the little town. And she’d remembered who had known the most gossip near her father’s country manor, and so she went to the vicar’s neat white house near the ancient village church first.
If the vicar had a wife, she’d know everything. Even if she didn’t, and even if the vicar himself was closemouthed as a clam, that was where the truth about the Ashford family was recorded. They were the grandest family in the district, and so there she might find the most myths and rumors about them.
She was in luck, though she wouldn’t think so later. The vicar was in, and alone except for his housekeeper
. He was very old, and trembly, and terribly lonely, and eager to talk to the new mistress of the Hall.
“I’m so sorry you couldn’t come to our party,” Eve said when his housekeeper had shown her in.
“Thank you for the invitation. Too kind,” he said, “And thank you for coming to see me so soon. But I’m not invalided, only a trifle old for such festivities. Do come in and take some tea with me.”
After she’d been seated in his study with a cup of tea and some little cakes and biscuits on a plate between them, he settled in his chair and looked at her.
He was a thin little fellow with spectacles and not very much white hair atop his head. He looked dignified and wise. He wasn’t. Or maybe he had been, but loneliness and increasing age had eroded his discretion. Eve sat still and listened as he happily told her everything he knew about her husband’s family, or had ever heard conjectured about them.
“The family has been here forever.” He chuckled. “Well, almost. There were Ashfords here when the Romans came. Why, I do believe they were here even before that, when Far Isle was just a mound.” He gave a dry cough of a laugh, dipped a biscuit into his tea, popped it into his mouth, and went on. “They always had funds too. Now, here’s a strange thing: they never contributed to the church. That may be because they were never a devout family. The truth is, they’ve always ignored us. We could have had a cathedral here, but we have the same small church we had in the eleventh century. A little treasure, one guidebook has it. Built when the Normans came, and untouched since. But still…
“At any rate,” he went on, “the Ashfords were said to have been a much larger family in the distant past. They were always said to be beautiful people, and charming, when they wished to be. They were known for their revels and their love of company, but only company that they chose. Many wild stories were told about them then, as you may imagine.”
He licked a crumb from his quivering lip, shook his head, and smiled at some memory before he continued. “As time went on, there were fewer of them, and those that were there settled down. Far Isle grew larger, but quieter, and more remote. They never had much to do with us. They still don’t. Which is why, my dear Mrs. Ashford, I am so delighted with your visit here today.”
“Thank you,” she said calmly. “So I take it you didn’t know my husband’s family? His father and mother, or his sister?”
“Oh, no,” he said. “I knew his father, and your husband is the image of him, as was his grandfather. They must have been strong men to pass on such perfect resemblances! Except for the hair, of course. Odd, that. And his mother looked nothing like him. She was not terribly friendly, but then, she was a lady born, and we were sorry to see her leave the country nevertheless, and sorrier when she never came back. She was quite old, however, to have had a babe at all. As was your husband’s grandmother. I do hope you have many children, my dear, and early, to change the family history.”
“And my husband’s sister, Arianna?” Eve asked through tight lips. The more he spoke, the more she disliked the vicar, and the more she disliked herself for having come to him. But she was driven now. She had to know more.
“His sister? Arianna?” the vicar said, his head to the side. “But I never heard of her. I always thought Mr. Ashford was an only child.”
There was a silence in the room, broken only by the ticking of an old clock on the mantel.
“Ah, but she was likely born abroad too,” the vicar said. “That must be what it is. You must have her come here, or your husband, if he wishes, to enter her name in the church record. I should like to see a true Ashford again. They were such handsome men: almost too perfect to look upon. Their wives were beauties too, but not in the same fashion. They were more substantial, so to speak, by which I mean not perfect at all, but perfect for their times. Their style of beauty changed. The men of the family never did. And the ladies were, well, toplofty, that’s a fact. Whereas the gentlemen were known for their agreeableness and charm.
“It is a great pity when the masters of the Hall so disregard the people of their village,” the old man mused. “It leads to talk. The things that were said! That are still said! That the Ashfords were allied with demons and enchantments, black masses and strange cults, or so it was whispered in days gone by.
“And because the family never came to church, even more dreadful things were said. The beauty of the Ashford men smote the women and inflamed our men. Local girls were forbidden to go there, even to work, and the men still don’t like to labor there. But I understand the wages paid to workers for your masquerade were enormous, and these are modern times, after all.”
Eve sat still, trying to make sense of what the old man was saying or trying to tell her. She didn’t care for any of it. The wrongness of seeking gossip about her Aubrey suddenly came to her, and she was ashamed of herself for listening to this foolish old man.
“Thank you,” she said, rising from her chair. “But I’ve overstayed my visit. My brother must be seething, waiting for me. Thank you for your hospitality, but I must go.”
He stood at once. He seemed to realize he’d said too much. “Jealousy,” he suddenly said. “That explains much of it, if not all. The Ashfords always had such unearthly beauty and so much money, and the village girls were easily seduced by both, and the men forever envious. I’m sure of it. Forgive me any nonsense I said that might have alarmed you, my dear Mrs. Ashford. And pray, don’t disturb yourself of Mr. Ashford about it.” He wrung his hands together, looking at her fearfully.
She said she would not, and left him, unsure of whether he had asked for forgiveness out of a long forgotten sense of duty or out of newfound terror.
Sheridan looked upset when she came hurrying back to where he stood pacing by the curricle.
“Nothing,” he said when she came up to him. “They never heard of her. Imagine that! The locals never heard a word about Arianna. Now, I like Ashford, but that is beyond anything. He didn’t invite her to your masquerade, and I thought hard of him for that. But now it turns out that’s nothing new. Why did he keep her from Far Isle all these years?”
“Get in,” she said through tightened lips. “Drive. We’ll talk on the way back.”
They argued all the way back.
“I don’t care if she was born abroad,” he kept saying. “She’s here now. Why does he keep her a secret?”
“Maybe she wants to be one,” Eve said. “Why don’t you ask her?”
His anger disappeared. Now he looked sad. “How can I? I doubt I’ll ever see her again. So you have to find out, Eve. You’re the only one that can. Or has he enchanted you, the way they all said he can do?”
She glared at him. “I like the clunch you are when you’re hopelessly in love, Sherry. Not the idiot you are when you’re thwarted.”
It felt very good to both of them as they began to call each other names, as they had when they were children. And they did as they rode all the way back to the Hall.
A surprise awaited them there, in the drive in front of the Hall. No guests were seen, but a new one had arrived again.
“Sherry, my dear boy!” Arianna trilled as she neared the curricle.
Sherry almost fell off his high perch in his haste to get down.
“I’ve returned, but alas! The party is breaking up. Thank heavens you’re still here,” she said to them both, but smiling at him.
She was as beautiful in sunlight as she was in moonlight, Eve thought. Her eyes were blue as a summer sky, her golden hair glowed radiantly where the light touched it, and her skin could be seen to be perfect, unblemished, and smooth. Her lips were true red, her gold gown was sashed with green and showed a perfect lithe figure: she was, in a word, magnificent.
“Oh, and how good to see you again, little sister,” Arianna told Eve. “It struck me as dreadful of me to come to your ball and then leave so promptly and ungraciously. I came back today to tell you that, and beg your forgiveness. And when Aubrey returns from wherever he is, I’ll be gone. I think he won’
t mind. He’s obviously eager to continue his honeymoon. As though I would dream of interfering! I only returned to get to know you a bit better before I left again. And,” she added, “to ask you to come to visit with me one day soon.”
“You live nearby?” Sherry asked eagerly.
“Not far,” she said. “But secluded. I like my privacy. I love this part of the land. I won’t live with my brother because I like my independence too. But I have a charming home of my own.”
“Miss Arianna,” Sherry blurted. “Why didn’t he—I mean Aubrey—tell us about you? Even my sister, his wife, didn’t know. And just now, in the village, it seemed no one had ever heard of you.”
“Sherry!” Eve said angrily. “This isn’t our business. It’s a family matter.”
“But we are family now.” Arianna laughed. “Don’t blame Aubrey. He was away from home so long he must have forgotten me. I’m only joking. I’m sure he would have remembered to tell you, in time. But I love this place and would never go so far away as he has done.” She stopped talking, and then looked full at Eve.
Eve fidgeted under Arianna’s suddenly rapt gaze. Those blue eyes seemed to look straight through to the heart of her.
“Ah,” Arianna said, as though stricken. Her eyes grew wide. Then so did her smile. “I see. I mean to say, I see why my brother forgot me. Who wouldn’t when he had such a lovely bride? The lamplight doesn’t do you justice, Eve. You are a woman made for sunlight. Come,” she said, taking Eve’s arm. “Walk with me in the gardens, please, dear sister. I can’t stay long, and I would know more about you and have you know more of me.”
Eve had promised Aubrey she wouldn’t meet with his sister alone. But Aubrey had told her Arianna had lived far away, and Arianna had just denied it. It would be craven, not to say downright childish, to walk away now, especially with Sherry looking on. And she hadn’t promised Aubrey, exactly, Eve remembered. She’d said she’d try. She had. But she couldn’t be so rude without better reason.