He pressed her hand in a way he hoped was comforting as he escorted her back into the house. He wished he had thought to visit Carswell before now—it had never occurred to him that anyone other than his immediate family would have cared what happened to him. He was deeply touched, yet also worried she might continue crying, because he had no idea what he should do in that case.
“I am very sorry to spring myself on you with such little notice, you know,” he said, “because I realise I have put you to a great deal of trouble.”
This was precisely the medicine Mrs Mason needed, for she immediately sniffed back her tears and puffed up indignantly at the very suggestion she was not at a moment’s notice ready for even the Prince Regent himself, should he care to visit. Despite her words, Hugh was glad he had delayed for a day before travelling to Carswell, no matter how difficult he had found the waiting, for it had meant she and the other few servants who’d been left to ensure the place didn’t go entirely to rack and ruin during the Season had had at least a little time to prepare.
After hearing all of Mrs Mason’s news, Hugh partook of a cold luncheon and made the acquaintance of Mrs Mason’s exceedingly tall nephew, Peter, who had been taken on as a footman since Hugh was last here. When the household had removed to London, he had remained here in order to do whatever tasks around the house were too heavy for Mrs Mason. From the muscle on the fellow, Hugh was sure he need have no worries that Mrs Mason was being overly stretched in that regard.
Once he’d eaten, Hugh headed for the stables. During the journey to Carswell, he had found idleness to be his enemy. His mind had insisted on replaying every single time he had betrayed himself to Theo by making it so evident, beyond any hope of misunderstanding, just what he had felt for the man. And his inconveniently clear memory had delighted in reminding him that even on those occasions, Theo had dropped into their conversations information about military manoeuvres, never losing sight of his goal, no matter the scorn he must have felt for Hugh. As his stomach clenched in misery, Hugh tried to walk more quickly. He desperately needed the distraction of riding or driving, something that would occupy his mind. For now he made himself consider just what cattle might still be in the stables, with most of the horses in London.
He was trying to recall every horse the family had owned over the past ten years when he reached the stableyard and Jim, the groom who had been left to run things, came out from the tack room. He seemed almost as pleased to see him as Mrs Mason had been, judging by the way he spat on the ground and muttered that it was about time because they’d almost forgotten what the captain looked like.
The equine pickings were as slim as Hugh had feared, even if slim wasn’t quite the right word for the big black mare with white stockings that Jim brought in from the field and got ready for him.
Contrary to his expectations, it was not at all difficult to ask Jim for assistance with a boost into the saddle.
“It’ll do that lazy mare good—mebbe run a bit of the fat off her if you make her work today,” he said as he passed Hugh a whip before giving Molly a slap on the neck that was doubtless supposed to look disapproving but which instead betrayed his love for the animal. “Will you be taking her far?”
“I’d thought I’d go to up to the folly. It’s been a while since I’ve been up there.”
“We’ll see you when you get back, then. And you, you great jug-headed bone-setter,” he added to Molly, “you mind your manners with the captain.”
Hugh laughed suddenly, surprising himself. He’d missed this, affection hidden beneath gruffness and supposed insults. It was like the regiment once more, and a fellowship he’d lost on leaving Spain.
He was still smiling as he got the reluctant mare to leave the stableyard behind. It was several minutes later, as he rode beneath the lime trees that lined the driveway, that he realised—Jim had, in his inimitable way, been checking on Hugh’s route just in case something happened and he ended up getting thrown. Hugh wanted to feel resentful for, yet again, he was reminded that he was different now, but he couldn’t. It was kindness, and it was subtly done, and if Hugh did come off the rather broad Molly, which he could not see happening unless he slid right round the butterball, he would simply crawl home if he had to, the same way he’d crawled off the battlefield at Salamanca, before the flames that swept across the dry grass could reach him.
The long, steep ascent to the folly, standing on top of the tallest hill in the area, slowed Molly’s steps. Aware she was out of condition, Hugh was content to let her go at her own pace. Within reason, that was—he did intervene when her own pace involved snatching mouthfuls of grass as she went.
And it was worth the climb when they reached the top, for the view in all directions was splendid and far-reaching, with three counties visible on a fine day. It hadn’t changed one iota from when he had been here as a boy, although he had no intention now of setting himself to rolling back down the hill the way he and James and sometimes George had done, to Miss Nash’s chagrin as she had seen the mud stains and torn clothes that had inevitably resulted. He grinned suddenly. The woman had deserved a medal for putting up with them.
He chose a route back through the woods, enjoying the shade under the trees, for the day had grown warm. The familiarity was welcome and soothing. More than anything, though, the freedom of having a horse under him once more, the ability to cover distance without effort and without pain, was beyond anything he could express. He supposed, regardless of all else, he should be thankful to Theo Lindsay for giving this back to him. But as thoughts of Theo threatened to intrude on his peace, he pushed the mare into a canter, determined to leave those thoughts far behind.
Hugh didn’t return to the stables until late that afternoon, and Jim was there to meet him when he did. He was not so adept as Theo at steadying Hugh on his dismount, but he was strong and steady, and that was all that was needed.
By the time Hugh had bathed and changed and eaten, he felt relaxed and more than ready to retire to his bed. He didn’t know what magic was in the air at Carswell; all he knew was that he felt somehow restored. He still had no idea what he was to do with himself, but it no longer felt so desperate. He knew that somehow he would find a way through, just as he had after Salamanca.
That optimism lasted precisely as long as it took him to slide between chilled sheets and blow out the candle. For no reason he could explain, the dark seemed to press in upon him. As the silence of the house grew heavy in the darkness, Hugh felt more alone than he had ever been before. He had grown used in such a short time to lying beside Theo, to having Theo’s warm body pressed against him while his arms held Hugh. He’d become used to lying upon his pillow, just looking, because he could not help marvelling at how perfect Theo was. He had become accustomed to the way Theo would look back at him, and then, so often, how looking would turn to kissing, and Theo would press Hugh backwards and lie on top of him, his body anchoring Hugh in a way he had never known he needed.
Hugh’s eyes were screwed closed and his breathing ragged, because he couldn’t bear it. He couldn’t bear to think it had all been a deceit. And he didn’t know why Theo had done it. It would have been enough for his purposes only to be friends with Hugh—he had not needed this as well. Why had he done it? He had never seemed unkind or cruel in his teasing of Hugh, but what he’d done to him was the cruellest thing possible.
Tears were pricking in Hugh’s eyes as he buried his face in the pillow and tried to steady his breathing, but it hurt, it hurt too damned much to think of what Theo had done, and Hugh did not know why. What had he done to deserve such a thing?
His only answer was the silence of the dark bedchamber.
…
The next day Hugh took Molly out again, hoping that more exercise and fresh air would help him sleep soundly that night. When the time came for him to retire, he did indeed sleep, but he was subject to restless dreams.
When he turn
ed up for Molly, for the third day in a row, he could have sworn she rolled her eyes at the sight of him and the prospect of yet more work. He greeted her with a slap on the neck of the sort that Jim bestowed.
“My sincere apologies, madam, but you do need to work for your board.”
He took her out towards the Downs, and they came back the long way round, splashing through the ford and up the drive to the house in the late-afternoon sunshine. He could feel the effects of the length of his ride in his leg as Jim caught him upon his dismount, but despite that, Hugh felt better for the outing.
He was almost cheerful as he made his way into the house, meaning to wash and change. Peter, who appeared to have modelled himself after Matthews’ admirable example, stopped him halfway across the hall. “Lady Emily d’Arcourt is in the drawing room, Captain Fanshawe. Miss Fanshawe and Miss Williams are also here, but they have gone into the gardens.”
He was not entirely sure he could have heard correctly, but on entering the drawing room he found Emily sitting upon the sofa, reading a book. She glanced up as the door opened, and a smile lit her face.
“Hugh!” She placed the book on the table beside her and stood to greet him, moving towards him with her hands outstretched to catch his own in her grasp. “It is such a relief to see you, for if I had to endure one more hour of what Lord Esdale says about one thing or Mr Ivory about another, I swear I might have had to knock two young heads together.”
“Emily.” Hugh was still shocked. “But what are you doing here? It’s lovely to see you, of course, but I was not expecting you.”
“I hope you don’t mind,” she said, “but London was becoming tedious, and Lady Fanshawe said you were here so I conceived the notion of a change of scene, and once Sophia heard, nothing would do for her but to accompany me. Where Sophia goes, so does Lavinia these days.”
As the door closed behind Peter, Hugh allowed himself to be drawn to the sofa. He sat down, with Emily settling beside him. Her smile had faded, and her eyes quartered his face. “I came because I was worried about you,” she said. “It seemed to me out of all character for you to leave without saying goodbye, and I wished to reassure myself all was well with you. But it isn’t, is it?”
Hugh shook his head. He could not even begin to admit all that had happened. “It’s nothing,” he said, a trifle thickly, for Emily’s kindness had brought it crashing back.
Emily took his hand. “Hugh, the girls are chattering together in the garden and won’t return for hours yet. You can tell me, if you will, for I see something is very wrong.”
Even had he been able to tell her of the true nature of his friendship with Theo, Hugh knew he could never confess to Emily the depth of his shame. But there was something else weighing on him for which he bore no fault, and he knew he would have to tell everyone sooner or later. He might as well begin now.
Even so, it took him awhile to say it, for saying it would make it real. “Horse Guards,” he said at last, his voice strained. “There was a spy, and because we shared an office, I was an inconvenient reminder of what had happened. I am no longer welcome there.”
Emily said nothing for a time, for which Hugh was grateful. Sympathy at the moment would be his undoing. “That can’t be easy, Hugh,” she said eventually.
“It’s more that I can’t see what to do now,” he confessed. “There is nothing else I can do.” He closed his eyes briefly, because he would not let Emily see the desperation that racked him at the magnitude of his loss.
Her hand squeezed his slightly, but before he could embarrass himself beyond all hope of reparation, she started to speak. “Well, now we are here, you can show me and Lavinia all the places Sophia has been speaking of and which she tells us we will love. I had thought tomorrow that the four of us could take a picnic to—what is the name of the lake you fell into as a small boy when trying to copy James and George by jumping across the stepping stones? Or perhaps that doesn’t narrow it down enough to identify it.”
Despite himself, despite everything, Hugh found himself smiling. “Sophia will catch cold at telling tales,” he said, “for as her older brother, I remember everything she did.”
“I can see this is going to be a most entertaining visit,” Emily said. “Oh, but, Hugh, I am desolate to have to inform you that Lavinia’s affections have been captured by another.”
“Thank God for that,” he muttered.
Emily ignored his shocking lack of gallantry. “It appears that when she and Sophia were walking in Green Park, Lavinia was saved from a dreadful fate at the jaws of the most fearsome beast, which was threatening to attack her. Mr Thomas Ivory appeared as if from nowhere, wrestled the terrible animal to the ground and bore it off. And with it, it appears, Miss Williams’ heart.”
“I take it from your tale Miss Williams was never in serious danger,” Hugh deduced.
“Perhaps of being licked to death. It was young Annabel Trent’s poodle puppy that had thought to make a new friend. Apparently Lavinia is not accustomed to dogs.”
“Well, it seems I must bow out for a better man has taken the field,” Hugh concluded in tones of great gloom.
“And that despite the splendour of your regimentals,” Emily sympathised. “I can see how you must be quite cast down. Oh, but speaking of upsets reminds me—I was in danger of displeasing your excellent housekeeper, Mrs Mason, when we arrived, for we had reservations at the inn three miles away, not wishing to overturn your household with our unexpected arrival. As well as we three, there is my maid and Sophia’s maid, and then my groom refused to allow my horses to be looked after unsupervised by the ostlers at a posting inn—indeed, he did say it with such a horrified expression upon his face—and I could not even consider bringing such a number of us here. I regret Mrs Mason was cut to the quick by my thoughtlessness and I was only able to make it up to her by many apologies and explaining that I had not wished to overset you, knowing what an ordeal so many ladies would be for a modest gentleman such as yourself. I capped off my apologies by producing Sophia, for I believe you and she are quite Mrs Mason’s favourites.”
“Sophia is, certainly,” Hugh agreed. “I fear I have never been forgiven for the time we were playing hide and seek and I hid in the linen chest. My shoes were muddy and apparently I managed to wipe them on every single piece of linen before I found a better hiding place.”
“That quite throws my sins into the shade,” Emily agreed. “Especially as I agreed I would immediately relinquish my foolish plan and we are to stay here.”
Hugh decided he was glad of it, for when the young ladies came in from the garden they were most excited to see him, with Miss Williams blushing only a little, and they enjoyed a lively evening together. Sophia was in raptures to be back at Carswell, while Miss Williams appeared most struck by the way Lady Emily had handled the ribbons when she had taken them driving in the Park yesterday and was now desirous of learning to drive herself.
Such enthusiasm was almost overwhelming, and as he caught Emily’s amused gaze across the dining table, he smiled. He had perhaps needed reminding that he had the very best of friends in her and Sophia, and the warmth of the welcome he’d received from the servants had also reminded him that his life was really not so miserable as he had begun to believe.
Mrs Mason’s words came back to him, for he was fortunate to have survived Salamanca. He had much to be thankful for, and he knew it. If only he had never met Theo Lindsay, he would be content with all he had. As it was, he now wanted more, so very much more, but it was not to be. He shook himself from his thoughts and concentrated fiercely on the ladies’ conversation.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The next morning, Emily’s idea of a picnic was greeted with great enthusiasm by the young ladies, especially once Emily had promised to let Lavinia have a turn at the ribbons and Sophia had been assured they would return in time for her to quiz the gardener about plants to her heart’
s content. Hugh had turned a surprised gaze on Emily on hearing of Sophia’s desire, but Emily had merely smiled.
It was a good day. Nobody fell into the lake, despite Sophia and Lavinia insisting upon going back and forth across the stepping stones; the luncheon Mrs Mason had packed into wicker baskets was delicious and plentiful; and the sunshine was warm, but not so hot that they needed to remove their chairs to the shade beneath the trees.
They made a happy party as they came back into the house, Lavinia and Sophia with their heads together, giggling over something, with Hugh and Emily following, her arm tucked comfortably into his.
“Are they always so excited?” Hugh asked, eyeing the young ladies as they divested themselves of bonnets and parasols, which they passed to the patiently waiting Peter. “And if so, for how much longer do you mean to stay?”
“Hugh! I am shocked at such boorish behaviour from one who is usually a paragon of virtue.” Emily then leaned in closer to ask in a low voice, “Do you really mean I can’t leave them here with you?”
As Hugh turned his horrified gaze on her, Peter cleared his throat.
“Excuse me, Captain Fanshawe,” he said. “There is a visitor desirous of seeing you. He would not give his name but neither would he leave, so I was obliged to show him into the morning room. If you wish me to eject him…” The prospect quite clearly delighted him.
“No, that will be quite all right. Thank you, Peter,” Hugh said, puzzled as to who it possibly could be.
“Indeed, sir.” Gloomy disappointment oozed from Peter’s every pore as he opened the door to the morning room.
The sun was streaming through the Venetian windows, casting the figure that stood in the centre of the room into silhouette. It took Hugh a moment to realise who it was.
“Theo,” he blurted, thunderstruck.
“Hello, Hugh. Lady Emily.” Theo made a brief bow in Emily’s direction. She did not return the greeting but stared at him with narrowed eyes. “Hugh, I don’t have long, but I must see you.”
A Minor Inconvenience Page 17