An Ideal Companion

by Anne Ashley

  What Ruth saw now in her companion’s expression only went to substantiate this. Certainly, there was a trace of wry amusement, but no hint of malevolence as Julia said, ‘If that is a polite way of asking me whether I pushed him over the edge, then the answer is no. Shall we walk back towards the town, Miss Harrington?’ she added and proceeded to do so, without waiting for a response. ‘As you can possibly imagine, this location doesn’t hold too many happy memories for me.’

  ‘No, I suppose not,’ Ruth responded, having automatically complied with her companion’s request. ‘Might I be permitted to know how it happened?’

  Again the widow smiled crookedly. ‘I should imagine you’ve already pieced together the terrible mistake I made when I foolishly knew no better and the consequences of that mistake.’ The twisted smile was there again. ‘Although I do not regret that. My daughter means everything to me, Miss Harrington. I would do almost...anything to protect her.’

  A rough wooden bench provided a welcome place to sit and rest themselves while they stared out across the sea, until finally the silence between them was broken by Julia who admitted, ‘I was such a naïve young fool back then, reared as I was by an impoverished, widower clergyman. But circumstances obliged me to spread my wings.’

  ‘So you applied and obtained a position as governess in the household of Sir George Hilliard,’ Ruth prompted when the silence again threatened to lengthen between them.

  ‘It was Lady Hilliard who engaged me,’ she revealed, ‘not her husband. I didn’t meet him for several weeks. Then, one day Lady Hilliard decides to leave the country house and join her husband in the capital. At the time I was given no explanation for the move. I assumed that the mistress was merely missing her husband. I had no notion that she was quite accustomed to his philandering ways and frequently joined him in the capital without prior warning in order to keep a watchful eye on him. Poor woman, she certainly played into his hands on that occasion.’

  The twisted smile this time was clearly self-deprecating. ‘I told you I was a naïve little fool. I believed it was love at first sight for both him and me. I felt flattered when the handsome master of the house began to pay daily visits to the schoolroom. I believed him when he visited my room at nights and told me he loved me. It was a relatively easy thing for us to be together, his wife having moved into a separate apartment, caring for her youngest child who had come down with a fever.’

  A thought suddenly occurred to Ruth. ‘Did you know the doctor in attendance at the time was none other than Dr Dent?’

  The look of astonishment was so spontaneous that Ruth didn’t doubt the reaction was genuine. ‘Great heavens! I never knew that,’ Julia confessed. ‘It’s a small world, indeed! As I mentioned before, Lady Hilliard, with her youngest daughter, kept to a suite of rooms, well away from the other children. Philip, and his two older sisters, stayed mostly with me, on the floor above in the schoolroom. Whenever we went out we used the back staircase, so I never saw the daily comings and goings, or saw anyone who visited the house. The only contact I had, apart from the children and servants, was with the master of the house.’

  She closed her eyes, as though to obliterate a painful image. ‘I retained at least a modicum of decency, though. I insisted our affair could not continue under the roof where his wife was fully occupied caring for her youngest daughter, so he arranged for me to come down here, well away from his family and dangers of exposure.’

  She turned and pointed. ‘It was that house, there, the one at the end of the terrace. Such a little simpleton was I, I even supposed my lover had purchased it for me and intended to join me permanently once his child had regained her health.’ Her shout of laughter was distinctly mirthless. ‘I discovered that foolish mistake later, after his visits had become increasingly less frequent. Foolishly, I imagined it was concern over his youngest child that kept him in London. I never supposed he was already grooming my replacement. I went two months without seeing him, during which time I realised I was with child. I imagined he would be pleased. How wrong I was!’

  Ruth studied Julia as she turned her head to stare up at the steeply sloping path that ran perilously close to the cliff edge in certain parts, and thought she could detect a touch of sadness in those blue depths.

  ‘You were out walking the cliff path when you told him, were you not?’

  Julia nodded as she glanced again at the steeply upward-sloping path. ‘We were about halfway up when I broke the news to him. I hoped it might in some way ease the pain of losing his youngest child, knowing that he had created a new life. There was a cruel, twisted smile on his lips as he uttered those words I shall never forget, “How very careless of you, m’dear! What possible use are you to me now? What use are you to any man now, carrying a gentleman’s by-blow?” I shall not sully your ears with any of his several other cruel taunts. Suffice it to say I was left in no doubt about his true character, or his true feelings for me. I believe I did lash out at him. He merely stepped back a pace or two, laughing in a heartless way at my pathetic attempt to inflict pain. Through the haze of my shame and anger, I seem to remember I was aware that he had moved closer to the cliff edge. He had been drinking heavily that day and throughout our walk continued to reduce the contents of the hip flask he carried. Strangely enough it was the recovery of that engraved silver flask that helped identify him. I remember him swaying...I remember him losing his footing... And, yes, perhaps I might have saved him had I attempted to grasp at the folds of his cloak. But I did not push him over the edge, Miss Harrington, though I made not the least attempt to steady him. Something in me died that day, I think. I didn’t even trouble to discover if he was still alive. I merely turned and walked back towards the town.’

  ‘Little wonder you paid scant attention to others walking the cliffs that day,’ Ruth remarked when once again Julia fell silent, no doubt locked in those heartrending reflections.

  ‘I remember no one, Miss Harrington,’ she confirmed. ‘I was left totally numbed by Hilliard’s cruel rejection and it took quite some time for me even to begin to recover. I did attain a great deal of solace and pleasure in raising my daughter. Alice quickly became everything to me. I wasn’t going to allow her life to be ruined because of my foolish mistake, not if I could do anything to avoid it. I knew Lady Lindley was referring to me at the dinner table that evening. I also knew she was no threat to me, personally. My conscience was clear—she couldn’t possibly have accused me of any crime, least of all murder. But she could harm Alice, if it became known I was once one of Hilliard’s many mistresses.’

  Ruth understood perfectly. ‘Yes, I can fully appreciate why you’ve never told her the truth. I cannot imagine she would benefit from knowing her natural father was a heartless philanderer. Had I been in your position I would have wanted my daughter to remain in ignorance. And Lady Beatrice, of course, was a real threat... But did you kill her to ensure her silence?’

  After several long moments Julia parted her lips to say, without a trace of emotion, ‘If you want the absolute truth...then, yes. I suppose I must have done.’

  Oh, dear God no! Ruth turned her head to look out across the Channel once more. The one thing she had never wished to hear...

  Now what was she supposed to do?

  Chapter Thirteen

  An hour later, after strolling back to the inn with Julia, and seeing her safely on her way in the gig hired from a Brighton hostelry, Ruth didn’t wish to delay in making ready for her own departure and was surprised to discover her overnight bag already packed and awaiting her in one corner of the taproom.

  Although slightly taken aback, she wasn’t unduly troubled and assumed the landlady, having been aware of her patron’s desire to be away as early as possible, had perhaps kindly taken it upon herself to do the packing when she had gone to the chamber in order to collect the breakfast tray.

  The landlord didn’t leave her l
abouring under this misconception for very long. ‘No, ’twern’t the wife packed for you, miss. Wouldn’t do that, not without you giving ’er leave to do so first. No, ’twere the gentleman, the one that arrived an hour or so after you did, miss, that packed your bag and paid your shot.’

  ‘Settled my bill...?’ For a moment or two Ruth thought she must surely have misunderstood. ‘Gentleman...? What gentleman? I know no gentlemen hereabouts.’

  ‘Oh, yes, you do, my girl,’ a beloved deep voice countered from the general direction of the entrance porch and Ruth swung round to discover that much taller-than-average frame leaning against the doorjamb.

  Uncaring that his stern expression was proof enough that he was not altogether pleased, she made her own feelings abundantly clear. Her heart having finally won the battle over those twin evils of pride and jealousy, she uttered a spontaneous squeal of delight before very nearly launching herself into his arms. He seemed to accept her willingly enough, holding her gently captive while she stood on tiptoe to place a chaste salute at one corner of his mouth.

  His lips twitched slightly as he stared down into dark eyes that were aglow now with undisguised delight at seeing him. ‘You’ll need to do a deal better than that, my girl, if you’re to stand the remotest chance of getting back into my good books.’

  He put her from him most reluctantly. ‘And before you scandalise the landlord further by your immodest displays, we’d best be on our way. The carriage awaits us and my gear is already stashed aboard’, and so saying Hugo swept up the overnight bag and escorted her outside to the post-chaise.

  Disposed though he might have been to play the irate suitor a while longer, while leaving her in no doubt about what he thought of her downright dangerous escapade, he found he wasn’t proof against a sweetly loving smile, or the small hand that stole into his a moment after he had closed the carriage door and had seated himself beside her. Nor was he able to delay further in finding an outlet for those numerous emotions he’d managed successfully to suppress during the past twenty-four hours.

  That she was a willing recipient of these, his more ardent displays of masculine passion, boded very well for their future life together. Eventually, though, he reluctantly set her from him a little, while he retained a semblance of control over his rapidly increasing ardour.

  ‘Oh, God! If anything had happened to you,’ he murmured huskily into the soft chestnut curls. ‘You must promise me never again to take such a foolish risk.’

  Although she smiled, Ruth was moved by his evident fears for her safety and promptly set about attempting to placate him by explaining the reasons for her actions, and revealing, too, in part, what she had discovered that morning.

  Easing herself a little away, she gazed up in to his anxious face. ‘I’ve already appreciated, as you’re here, that you must have returned earlier than planned from the races and read the note I left for you, so you’re aware of what I discovered when I visited Julia’s home—that she was once employed as governess in the Hilliard household.’

  He nodded. ‘And the daughter bears a marked resemblance to Sir Philip Hilliard, you say.’

  ‘Yes, she does,’ Ruth confirmed, before smiling wryly. ‘I’m afraid I did poor Julia an injustice by supposing her widowed state merely assumed in order to maintain respectability. She did, in fact, legally marry a Mr John Adams. He was a retired notary and in poor health. He came here for a few weeks during that summer Julia was here. He hoped the sea air would improve his consumptive condition. They met one day while out walking. He quickly became aware of Julia’s unfortunate— er—predicament and offered a solution to all her woes. In exchange for taking care of him during the last months of his life, he would not only give her the protection of his name, but would leave her everything he owned to enable her to raise her child in moderate comfort. He died before Alice was born, but the girl has always believed him to be her father.’

  ‘And you say you don’t believe Julia killed her daughter’s natural father?’

  Ruth didn’t hesitate even for a moment before shaking her head. There was no doubt in her mind whatsoever of Julia’s innocence. ‘She didn’t attempt to deny they did exchange harsh words, but she didn’t push him to his death, though she freely admitted she made no attempt to prevent him falling.’

  ‘And what about Lady Beatrice...? Did she murder her?’

  ‘She attempted to, yes,’ Ruth revealed after a moment.

  ‘Good gad!’ Hugo exclaimed, visibly paling. ‘I’m not sorry now that I did follow you from the inn, or fired that warning shot. Not that I suppose you’d have sustained more than a bruise or two had she pushed you over the edge from where you were standing. The drop couldn’t have been more than a few feet. I could, I suppose, have made my presence known by shouting a warning, but I did appreciate that you wished to meet Julia on your own.’

  Memory stirred. ‘So it was you who fired that shot.’ She smiled lovingly up at him. ‘You needn’t have worried. Julia never had any intention of attempting to harm me.’

  ‘I realised that myself when I saw her draw you away from the path’s edge. I watched for a little longer, then feeling confident you were in no danger I returned to the inn to ensure my presence wouldn’t be discovered. But I must confess I began to be concerned again. You were away a long time.’

  After taking a moment to position herself more comfortably in the crook of his arm, Ruth decided to reveal everything she’d learned that morning, and began by reminding him of how they had discovered Julia lurking in the passageway at Dunsterford Hall all those months ago. ‘She had been attempting to locate Lady Bea’s bedchamber, in the hope of speaking with her in private, and pleading with her not to divulge what she’d witnessed on that cliff walk all those years before.

  ‘It wasn’t a guilty conscience she was suffering from,’ Ruth assured him, ‘at least not in respect of murdering Hilliard. But she was desperately concerned about her daughter, and what effect it would have on Alice if she were ever to discover she was not the legitimate offspring of John Adams.’

  ‘Well, that’s understandable,’ Hugo remarked fair-mindedly. ‘After all, the girl had been brought up to believe her birth was entirely respectable.’

  ‘Precisely!’ Ruth sighed. ‘But what happened next Julia herself can only put down as having been in the grip of insane desperation. It was only as she saw the hot toddy I’d made for Lady Beatrice that the idea all at once occurred to her. On the pretext of requiring a nightdress, she succeeded in getting rid of me for those few precious minutes necessary to slip back into her own room to locate a bottle of laudanum. She was sharing a chamber with Miss Dent, you may remember. And Miss Dent always carried a small case containing various nostrums her brother considered indispensable when travelling about the land. As Miss Dent was already sound asleep, it was a simple matter for Julia to extract the bottle she was looking for.’

  ‘Ah, yes!’ he said, raising a triumphant finger. ‘I distinctly recall detecting laudanum in the remains of that toddy you made.’

  ‘But unlike you,’ she reminded him, ‘Lady Bea never supposed for a moment that I’d attempted to drug her.’

  She raised her eyes to cast him a brief, accusing look. His attempt at appearing shamefaced was belied somewhat by a wicked glint in his eyes. ‘Furthermore,’ she continued, after quickly deciding little would be achieved by remonstrating with him, ‘Lady Beatrice had vast experience in the use of opiates and, according to what Julia told me earlier, Lady Bea took one sip and tossed most of what had remained out of the window, leaving just a little in the bottom so as to give the impression she had drunk it. And that is precisely what Julia had assumed when she went into the bedchamber later, via my room.’

  ‘It’s a wonder she didn’t wake you, my darling,’ Hugo remarked, while absently twisting one shining chestnut lock round his finger.

  ‘Something did rouse
me and I do recall detecting a flickering light beneath the communicating door, but I quickly went back to sleep. I was feeling tired after the long day I’d had. I certainly didn’t hear anything of what subsequently took place within the adjoining chamber.’

  ‘And what did take place?’ Hugo prompted when Ruth fell silent, attempting to recall, verbatim, Julia’s confession. ‘She entered the room to discover a lighted candle on the bedside table. Lady Beatrice, though, appeared in the throes of a drug-induced sleep. She then slid one of the pillows from beneath her head, and placed it over Lady Bea’s face.’

  ‘So, she did attempt to murder her?’

  ‘Oh, yes, Hugo, she did. But the instant Lady Bea began to struggle, clawing at the pillow, Julia, according to her own admission, regained her senses. She dropped the pillow on to the floor, appalled at what she had just attempted to do.

  ‘What happened next I can only piece together from what I’ve been told. Julia then attempted to reason with Lady Bea, assuring her that she hadn’t murdered Sir George Hilliard and pleading with her not to spread the encounter she had witnessed on the cliff walk that day abroad, as her daughter would be the one to suffer, not her. According to Julia, Lady Bea said she would consider the matter further and discuss it again in the morning.’

  ‘And you believed her, believed she left Lady Bea alive and well in her bed?’ Hugo prompted when Ruth again fell silent, collecting her thoughts.

  ‘Alive, certainly. And, yes, I did believe her, and for various reasons. Firstly, Julia said when she left the room Lady Bea was propped against her pillows, smiling. It was not a pleasant smile—twisted, almost smugly satisfied, Julia described it. And I can well believe it because I’d witnessed that selfsame smile on numerous occasions during those years I’d spent at Dunsterford Hall. Sadly, Lady Bea attained some perverse pleasure out of other people’s misery. One might almost say there was a sadistic flaw in her character. She would have enjoyed leaving Julia on tenterhooks until the morning.