An Ideal Companion

by Anne Ashley

  And yet, never once had he betrayed by so much as a look, word or gesture that he was anything other than heart-whole, Ruth continued to reflect, after recalling vividly numerous recent occasions when they had been alone together. She would have been the first to admit that her experience of the opposite sex was more limited than most females of her age. After all, she’d had no father, brothers or uncles in her life with whom she could draw comparisons. Yet, rather than a world-weary soul, Hugo had always seemed to her an educated and well-adjusted person who had been blessed with a charming personality and strong values, not to mention a wonderful sense of humour.

  His character rather than his looks had attracted her from the first. Foolishly, perhaps, she had swiftly grown increasingly fond of her self-appointed protector, and now there was absolutely nothing she would ever wish to change about him. There was little point in denying the fact that she had already lost her heart to the big man. Yet, thankfully, she had succeeded thus far in maintaining a sense of perspective.

  Although he had never once taken advantage of the situation by attempting to seduce her, or being overly familiar in any way, she was now convinced, after their carriage ride that morning, and the sweet endearment he had used to address her—for she hadn’t doubted for a moment that that was precisely what it had been—that he, too, was not indifferent to her. No one could take such tender care of another human being, as he had her, and remain completely detached. The truth might be, of course, that he had reached a time in his life when he had come to the conclusion that if he didn’t marry soon and raise a family, perhaps the opportunity would pass him by. Maybe he thought they rubbed along so well together that he would be content to spend the rest of his life with her.

  For her part she could think of nothing she could desire more than to become Hugo’s wife, mother of his children. What had persuaded her to maintain a tight rein on her own feelings thus far, keeping them well hidden, was one soul-destroying doubt that had increased so rapidly in recent days and now refused to be quelled. Would she really be happy married to someone who would possibly always privately think of her as second best, a mere substitute for the woman he had really wanted? Until she could face that demon, and, should he ever ask her, be willing to take Hugo on his terms, then she must continue to keep her emotions well hidden, offer no encouragement and continue to treat him like a surrogate brother, if not for his sake, then certainly for her own.

  * * *

  The following evening Ruth entered the parlour to discover only Hugo, dressed formally in evening attire, ready to leave for the dinner party. Although she secretly preferred to see him more casually attired in top-boots and buckskins, there was no denying that, for a tall man, he cut an impressive figure no matter what he wore.

  Dressed in the least revealing of her evening gowns, and with one of her new and shockingly expensive silk shawls draped becomingly about her shoulders, she felt she, also, looked very well. Consequently, she was somewhat surprised, and slightly aggrieved, too, to discover a slight frown creasing Hugo’s brow, after his eyes had slowly appraised her from head to toe and then back again.

  ‘Clearly I do not meet with your approval,’ she said, striving not to appear offended. ‘But I flatly refuse to buy anything else until I’ve heard from my man of business.’

  ‘In that case it behoves me to purchase something for you. I’ve seen you wearing that locket on numerous occasions. Seemingly, it’s the only necklace you’ve brought with you.’

  She slanted a mocking glance. ‘When I set out from Dunsterford Hall, Hugo, I never imagined for a moment I would be residing in the capital before the month was out. I brought sufficient clothing for several days, but few other possessions. Which just goes to prove what a goose I am for not having considered more carefully before embarking on the journey here. What I should have done, of course, was to return to Somerset first and then set out for London, carrying sufficient funds and jewels for my entire stay...no matter how protracted it was destined to turn out to be.’

  When he offered no comment she regarded him thoughtfully, silently debating again that troubling possibility that had first occurred to her the day before. ‘Hugo, you don’t suppose all this effort on our part might turn out to be a complete waste of time...that we might in the end come to the conclusion that Lady Beatrice did, in fact, die of natural causes?’

  Hugo glanced at her keenly before taking up a stance by the hearth. Leaning one arm along the mantelshelf, he gave the distinct impression of being completely unperturbed at the prospect, even before he said, ‘At the outset I did suggest this could turn out to be very much the case. There remains many unanswered questions surrounding Lady Bea’s death—many aspects of it that are distinctly suspicious. That said, it might well be that she did die of natural causes, but if not...’ His regard became searching once more. ‘But if not, have you considered what action you might consider taking?’

  Ruth immediately shook her head, honest enough to admit she hadn’t wished to dwell on this unpleasant possibility. She didn’t even wish to contemplate it now and sought a way of avoiding the issue. ‘My initial suspicions might have been borne of a guilty conscience and yours of a possible mistrust of the medical profession as a whole,’ she suggested. ‘We might yet be obliged to acknowledge that Dr Dent’s assessment was an accurate one.’

  If his regard had been searching at the outset, it had grown positively probing now, making her feel totally exposed. ‘Now, why should you suppose I have a negative view of the medical profession as a whole, I wonder...? Aha!’ He raised one finger in a triumphant gesture, which matched perfectly the set of his smile. ‘Sarah, of course!’

  Very slowly he went over to the window and stared out on to the street, his back towards her. ‘If you take my advice, Ruth, you’ll not pay too much heed to what my sister tells you, most especially when she reveals—er—personal details about me,’ he advised softly. ‘She’s not entirely hen-witted, far from it, but she does have a tendency to be excessively blinkered on occasions, viewing matters entirely from her own standpoint. I do not consider all doctors a disgrace to their profession. I hope I haven’t become such a bigot.’

  Although his tone had remained velvety smooth and level, she sensed he was annoyed over something. It might well have been her show of uncertainty over Lady Beatrice’s death that had given rise to irritation. And she could hardly blame him if this turned out to be the case, she decided, striving to be fair. She wouldn’t be best pleased if she’d taken the trouble to escort someone all the way to London, only to be told, once there, that the reason for embarking on the journey in the first place was now in question. Somehow, though, she didn’t think this lay at the root of his displeasure.

  A moment later she began to question her own reading of his mood. Sarah entered and instantly his whole demeanour changed, suggesting at a stroke that he bore his sister no ill will for discussing his private concerns with a virtual stranger.

  He came forward, assuring her that she looked particularly handsome that evening, a compliment which clearly pleased her. ‘But I would never have supposed you to be so mean spirited, Sal, as not to lend your house guest an item or two from your trinket box, knowing as you do that she has left most all her jewellery back in Somerset.’

  It would have been difficult to say who appeared more taken aback: Ruth could only gape in disbelief as the crimson hue worked its heated way up her neck and into her cheeks; while poor Sarah suddenly appeared awkwardly shamefaced, like a reprimanded child that had been caught red-handed being deliberately spiteful to a less privileged friend by not sharing her toys.

  ‘Pay him no heed!’ Ruth implored, finding her voice first. ‘He’s being wickedly provoking this evening. I shouldn’t dream of borrowing any of your necklaces, Sarah. Besides which, it might show me in a very poor light if I were to go bejewelled this evening,’ she continued, after a moment’s consideration. �
�Lady Constance might applaud the fact that her friend disposed of her wealth outside her immediate family, but I doubt very much she would consider it anything other than a vulgar display if the recipient of such generosity were to go about town flaunting the fact. And it’s of vital importance that I make a favourable impression on that particular lady.’

  ‘You couldn’t fail to do otherwise,’ Hugo assured her gently.

  ‘I wish I had your confidence,’ Ruth returned abruptly, while secretly pleased by the compliment. ‘You see, I have the distinct feeling that that particular matron just might hold the key which could eventually unlock the mystery surrounding Lady Beatrice’s death. And if she doesn’t possess it, she just might know who does.’

  Chapter Eight

  All Ruth’s reservations about meeting her late employer’s closest friend vanished the instant she set foot inside the fashionable town residence, and none other than the Dowager Lady Constance Styne herself came forward to greet her personally, with a genuine warmth that instantly put her at ease.

  The dinner which followed, consisting of numerous side dishes, was the most sumptuous Ruth had ever tasted in her life. So, to show her appreciation, she was only too happy, after the delicious meal was over, to accept the kindly hostess’s invitation to take a turn on the fine instrument in the corner of the drawing room.

  Although she would never have boasted about her abilities, she had been complimented enough times during her adult life to be sure that she was considered most accomplished on the pianoforte. She performed her chosen piece with confidence, and a skill borne of natural ability, rather than hours spent practising scales. The fulsome applause that greeted the end of her recital was very pleasing to hear. What she found most gratifying of all, however, was the look of combined surprise and pride she chanced to glimpse on Hugo’s face as she surrendered her place at the instrument to another female guest.

  ‘That was utterly charming, my dear!’ the Dowager enthused, the first to come forward to compliment her personally. ‘But I knew well enough how gifted you were. Beatrice frequently praised your abilities in her letters to me.’ Her smile could not have been more kindly. ‘No doubt you made my dear friend’s last years so very happy. Did she, I wonder, come to look upon you as the daughter she’d never been blessed to have?’

  Ruth was instantly conscience-stricken and had no intention of repaying the lady’s kindness towards her thus far with a mouthful of lies. ‘I wish I could confirm the truth of that, ma’am. Sadly, I cannot. I do not know what Lady Beatrice was like when young, but during the time I spent with her she maintained an air of detachment, betraying little emotion, at least nothing that could be interpreted as deep, genuine affection towards me.’

  ‘No,’ the Dowager responded gravely. ‘I’d hoped it might have been otherwise, of course, but I cannot say I’m unduly surprised to hear you say that. And I appreciate your honesty.’ She took a moment to look about her before guiding Ruth across to a door leading to a small ante-room. ‘I think my guests are quite capable of entertaining themselves for a short while. There’s something I should like you to see.’

  Before following her into the room, Ruth instinctively glanced across in Hugo’s direction once more to discover him on the point of disengaging himself from a small group of gentlemen. Evidently he had already guessed their hostess’s objective and was determined the opportunity shouldn’t be wasted. He wasn’t to know it, of course, but Ruth had no intention of doing so! That said, she couldn’t deny she was fast coming to rely on his support and sincerely hoped his aim was to join them.

  She was obliged to delay her questioning while the Dowager began rummaging through a drawer. The lady quickly located a gilt-framed miniature, a likeness of a young woman with large bright eyes and a mass of soft brown ringlets, which she promptly handed over.

  Ruth was immediately aware that there was something familiar about the innocent young face that smiled shyly back at her from the oval frame. ‘Heavens above! This was never a likeness of Lady Bea, surely?’

  The Dowager nodded solemnly. ‘Hard to believe, I know, Miss Harrington. None the less, I can assure you it is Beatrice, painted some few years before her marriage, when she was an innocent girl, full of romantic dreams.’

  The slight click of the door instantly captured the Dowager’s attention. Unlike Ruth, she was surprised by the interruption. Hugo, however, with his customary aplomb, easily excused his unexpected appearance by solicitously enquiring after Ruth’s health. ‘I saw you slip in here, and couldn’t help wondering...’

  ‘I’m fine, Hugo,’ she assured him, with only the faintest betraying tremor and quite forgetting to be more formal now that they were in public.

  Hugo, of course, didn’t miss the slight solecism. More importantly, he noticed that the Dowager hadn’t either, when she began to look at them both with renewed interest. He raised a questioning brow.

  ‘Forgive me, but I was under the impression that Miss Harrington was a guest and friend of your sister’s, sir.’

  ‘Indeed, she is, ma’am...now,’ Hugo concurred, before cunningly divulging just when and where he and Ruth had first become acquainted.

  ‘Oh, I see! So you were there at the time of Beatrice’s death.’ She transferred her gaze to the young woman who appeared remarkably at ease in the tall Colonel’s company. ‘It must have been a terrible time for you, my dear. No doubt you found having a gentleman present of great comfort.’

  Hugo once again took it upon himself to intercede, especially as he had detected the faint yet unmistakable choking sound from the female beside him. Seemingly she was having considerable difficulty containing her mirth. And little wonder! No doubt she was recalling that, at the time, it had foolishly crossed his mind to suppose that she just might be a murderess!

  ‘I offered what assistance I could, ma’am. Which was little enough,’ he divulged, after he and Ruth had accepted the Dowager’s invitation to seat themselves together on the sofa. ‘I’m happy to say that in recent weeks I’ve fared rather better, persuading Miss Harrington to remain as a guest of my sister for, this, her first stay in the capital.’

  When the Dowager made no comment and continued to regard them both with what could best be described as a quizzical little smile, Ruth took the opportunity to show Hugo the miniature of her former employer in the hope that he could take full advantage of this private little interlude.

  He didn’t disappoint her. ‘I would be the first to admit, ma’am, that I wasn’t well acquainted with Lady Beatrice. In fact, I cannot recall ever having conversed with her at all, until I was obliged to seek refuge with her last autumn. But my one clear recollection of years ago was of a very sociable creature. What do you suppose turned her into a virtual recluse?’

  It had been the perfect opening gambit and won an immediate response from the Dowager, who gave vent to an unladylike snort. ‘I suspect there were many reasons. But the main one, I suppose, was her disastrous choice of a husband. You may perhaps just remember Lindley, sir, though he died some years ago. Not to put too fine a point on it, the man was nothing more than an unfeeling monster, a debauched womaniser and gamester, past praying for long before he had attained the age of thirty.’

  Lady Constance shook her head solemnly, clearly plagued by unhappy memories. ‘Perhaps, though, poor Bea had only herself to blame. Several of us tried to warn her against him. From a young age Lindley never attempted to curb or conceal his scandalous exploits—his many vices were common knowledge.’

  ‘Little wonder she had scant regard for the male sex as a whole and no respect at all for the marriage state,’ Ruth murmured, after digesting all this. ‘I believe that is one of the reasons why she left me her fortune...so that I need never wed.’

  ‘If that is so, then it was very wrong of her!’ Lady Constance declared staunchly, after watching Hugo lower his eyes to stare solemnly down at
a certain portion of the floor. ‘I wouldn’t for a moment attempt to suggest that most all unions result in marital bliss, because they do not. Even so, I should like to think that a great majority turn out to be very tolerable, with husbands and wives rubbing along together in harmony for the most part. Sadly, there are those that seem doomed from the start. Poor Bea’s union fell very much into this category.’

  Ruth deliberately refrained from enquiring too deeply into certain aspects of the disastrous marriage. She, too, was not oblivious to the fact that Hugo had grown quiet all of a sudden and couldn’t help wondering whether he felt uncomfortable discussing the unsavoury character of a member of his own sex in mixed company. Besides which, she didn’t suppose, either, the Dowager would choose to reveal all she knew, so she merely asked why Lady Beatrice had remained with her husband for so long.

  ‘Surely, ma’am, she could have sought refuge from his cruelty with a member of her family?’

  The Dowager’s expression grew distinctly cold. ‘I know for a fact that, early in the marriage, she approached both her sisters, but neither would offer sanctuary.’ She shook her head sadly. ‘I suppose in a way I can understand their refusing. Both were keen to maintain their social positions and so shied away from any type of scandal.’

  She paused for a moment before adding, and encompassing both her listeners in her steady gaze, ‘You must remember, also, that when a woman marries, under the law, she becomes her husband’s property. Everything she owns becomes his. She is to all intents and purposes at his mercy. Furthermore, her late brother-in-law was a formidable and powerful man. His kind have had influence enough to make the laws of the land and power enough to enforce them.