Mr. Rushford's Honor

Home > Other > Mr. Rushford's Honor > Page 3
Mr. Rushford's Honor Page 3

by Meg Alexander


  ‘You have met Lady Whitelaw. She was the former Gina Westcott…’

  ‘The baker’s daughter?’ Mrs Rushford gave a cry of indignation. ‘India, you can’t be serious! How can you receive a person who was engaged in trade? What of your social position?’

  ‘Mother, those days are gone,’ Giles said quietly. ‘Westcott himself is a wealthy man and is highly regarded in the neighbourhood.’

  ‘What has that to say to anything?’ his mother demanded. ‘Much you know about it! India, this is another of your queer starts. I fear you have learned nothing since your marriage. I forbid you to receive her. Isham can know nothing of her background. He has been deceived, which is what I would expect from that sly little madam.’

  Giles flushed and was about to speak when he was forestalled.

  ‘Is someone taking my name in vain?’ a mild voice enquired.

  ‘Oh, Anthony, there you are, thank heavens! Now will you explain to India that she cannot possibly receive a baker’s daughter…this Lady Whitelaw, or whatever she calls herself. I know that this will be a shock to you, but you have been misled. I know that girl, and I would put nothing past her. Lady Whitelaw, forsooth! She was a nursemaid to the family, nothing more.’

  ‘I believe she held that post.’ Isham’s voice was dangerously quiet, and India closed her eyes. Would her mother never learn? Nothing aroused her husband to anger more quickly than any criticism of his wife.

  Mrs Rushford was oblivious of the warning signs. ‘Certainly she did, and nothing surprised me more. The girl was fifteen when she ran away from home. Who knows what her life had been before she met the Whitelaws? None of us can be in much doubt, I think. She was always a pert, opinionated miss.’

  Isham strolled over to the fireplace. ‘You question Lord and Lady Whitelaw’s judgement then?’ The edge to his voice was lost on Mrs Rushford.

  She tossed her head. ‘They wouldn’t be the first to be taken in by her. She will not have changed. She may claim the title, but I, for one, will be surprised if she has any right to it.’

  ‘Then you must prepare yourself for a shock, Isabel. I was Whitelaw’s supporter at their wedding.’

  Mrs Rushford stared at him. ‘You were? But Anthony, you could not have known about her. How can India receive the daughter of a baker? The scandal will run like wildfire through the Ton. I can’t imagine what Lady Wells will have to say.’

  ‘As my wife, India need not concern herself with the opinion of vulgarians. Lady Whitelaw will be received here. I must hope that you will make her welcome.’

  Mrs Rushford flushed an unbecoming shade of purple. It was a sharp rebuke, though his lordship had not raised his voice. Her visit to Bristol had caused her to forget just how unpleasant her son-in-law could be when he got on his high ropes. Now he sat down beside his wife and took her hand.

  India squeezed it gently and he understood. His lofty manner left him as he turned to her sister.

  ‘So we are to wish you happy, Letty?’ His smile transformed the harsh face. ‘When is the great day to be?’

  ‘In the summer, Anthony.’ Letty was radiant. ‘Oliver and I are both so grateful to you. Without your help it could not have come about.’

  ‘Nonsense! Oliver would not have let you go, whatever the difficulties.’ Pointedly, he made no reference to the dreaded Lady Wells and Letty did not mention her. Anthony was no hypocrite. If her future mother-in-law had dropped off the face of the planet he would consider it a blessing. She twinkled at him, well aware of his feelings in that respect. Anthony turned back to his wife.

  ‘You are looking better,’ he said quietly. ‘Has the nausea gone?’

  ‘It is soon over,’ she assured him. ‘And Lucia has a sovereign remedy. I am to eat a dry biscuit when I wake and drink one of her tisanes.’ She blushed a little. ‘She says that it will last only for the first few weeks.’

  At this moment his stepmother came into the room. Lucia, the dowager Lady Isham, was looking pale and fragile. The loss of her own son had hit her hard, but now she devoted herself to India’s welfare.

  ‘Shall you feel able to eat your nuncheon, India?’ she asked in her prettily accented English. ‘It is so important, my dear one.’ She grasped the younger woman’s hand and led the way into the dining-room.

  Yet it was not India who ignored the food. Giles was too preoccupied to notice what was set before him.

  So Gina was a widow? Now, at least, he had no need to picture her in the arms of the elderly Lord Whitelaw. The sense of relief had shaken him to the core, though common-sense persuaded him that it was not much of a comfort. Gina was still beyond his reach. He had nothing to offer her. Had it not been for India’s generosity in giving him the management of her estate, he would have been forced to return to a way of life which disgusted him. Since his father’s death last summer and the ruin of his family he had been forced to live upon the charity of his friends, accepting invitations to their country houses in the hope that someone would offer him employment.

  Napoleon’s blockade, the ruin of trade, and a failed harvest had dashed that hope. No one needed an estate manager, however dedicated. Had it not been for India’s offer he would have been forced to leave the country and seek his fortune overseas.

  Then he took himself to task. He must not be bitter. The Rushford family had survived. India’s splendid marriage had seen to that. Soon Letty would be wed to her beloved Oliver. He must be happy for them, ignoring the ache in his own heart.

  It would be years before he could think of marriage for himself, though his mother still hoped that he would find a wealthy bride. He would not sell himself. Every instinct revolted at the thought. Perhaps he would never marry, but in time he might recover some of his self-esteem.

  His preoccupation didn’t go unnoticed. India, surprised by her brother’s inattention, looked across at her husband and raised an enquiring eyebrow. Isham smiled, but he gave an imperceptible shake of his head, warning her not to pursue the subject. It was not until later, when she was resting in her room, that he came to her. Sitting beside her on the bed he took her hand and raised it to his lips, kissing her fingers each in turn.

  ‘Well, my love?’ he teased. ‘Had you not better ask me before you burst with curiosity?’

  ‘You mean about Lady Whitelaw?’ she asked artlessly. ‘Oh, Anthony, you know that I shall be happy to receive her, or any of your friends…’

  ‘I didn’t doubt it, but I wasn’t referring to Gina Whitelaw, and well you know it.’

  ‘You still find my face an open book then?’ India blushed and then she laughed.

  ‘I do, and It’s a lovely face. Now, out with it! You are concerned about your brother, are you not?’

  ‘I can’t help it. He is behaving oddly. Have you not noticed? I thought he might have spoken to you.’

  Isham was silent as India studied his face.

  ‘He has said something, hasn’t he?’ she insisted. ‘I know that you would not betray a confidence, but Giles is so dear to me. I can’t help wondering if something dreadful happened whilst he and Letty were away with Mama.’

  Isham laughed aloud. ‘Nothing of the sort. Giles is more than capable of dealing with Lady Wells, in the politest possible way, of course. She may be a termagant, but she is no match for him. Besides, are we not much in favour with her ladyship at present, now that Letty is to marry Oliver?’

  India shook her head at him. ‘Don’t try to change the subject, Anthony. You shall not divert me with talk of Letty’s wedding.’

  His lordship stretched out his long legs and regarded her with a fond smile. ‘I didn’t expect to do so, my darling.’

  ‘Well then, what else can it be? Mother and Letty have not mentioned anything untoward, but Giles is not himself and it worries me.’

  ‘Now that does concern me.’ Isham’s smile was gone. ‘I won’t have it, India!’ Swiftly he put his arms about her. ‘This should be the happiest of times for us. You are not to worry about Giles, or anything else
for that matter. I forbid it! Giles is a man grown, and must be allowed to handle his own affairs. He will not welcome interference in what, I suspect, may be a matter of the heart…’

  ‘Oh, did he say so?’ India’s frown vanished.

  ‘He did not! And, my clever little witch, you shall not tease me into repeating our conversation. As you say, you and Giles are close. He will tell you if he wishes you to know.’

  ‘Perhaps it was just a lovers’ quarrel.’ India brightened. ‘We had many of those ourselves, if you recall?’

  ‘Shall I ever forget?’ His lordship threw his eyes to heaven. ‘You left me scarred for life!’

  ‘What nonsense!’ India’s indignant tone was belied by the sparkle in her eyes. ‘You seem to have come about, my lord.’

  ‘Only with difficulty, and much self-mortification.’

  As he had hoped, his wife’s brow cleared and she began to laugh. ‘I haven’t seen much sign of that.’

  ‘Then it must have been your kisses which restored me.’ He turned her face to his and sought her lips. India submitted willingly, but at last she pushed him away.

  ‘You are a disgrace!’ she teased. ‘Making love to your own wife in the middle of the afternoon! I never heard of such a thing!’

  ‘You prefer that I made love to someone’s else’s wife in the middle of the afternoon?’

  ‘Only if you seek further scarring, my dear sir. Now let us be serious. What are we to do about Giles?’

  ‘Nothing at all, I fear.’

  ‘We might at least find him some diversion. He can’t have enjoyed his stay with Lady Wells, although it may be there that he met this mysterious paramour.’

  ‘Quite possibly.’ Isham would not be drawn.

  ‘Well, now, at least, he will have some company of his own age. Thomas Newby is visiting Abbot Quincey. He puts up at the Angel. Shall we ask him to stay here?’

  ‘Anything you wish, my dearest.’

  A loving smile was his reward. ‘He is one of my brother’s oldest friends…’ India paused ‘And then, you know, there is Lady Whitelaw…’

  Isham kept his countenance with difficulty. ‘You also have plans for her, my love?’

  India looked a little conscious. ‘It is just that…Oh, don’t give me that quizzing look, you odious creature…I thought that she might care to dine with us this week.’

  ‘Together with Giles and Thomas Newby? Match-making, India?’

  ‘Not at all,’ she said severely. ‘I thought merely that she might like to bring the girls, so that we may get to know them.’

  ‘Too kind!’ His eyes were twinkling and his tone was so dry that she aimed a playful blow at him. ‘I’ll leave you to rest, my dear, and to do your plotting in peace.’

  Having satisfied himself that India was no longer so deeply troubled, Isham returned to the salon. There he found Letty and Mrs Rushford absorbed in the details of Letty’s trousseau, whilst Giles was anxious to slip away.

  ‘I must return to Abbot Quincey,’ Isham announced mendaciously. ‘Giles, will you ride in with me?’

  His brother-in-law gave him a look of relief. ‘I’d be glad to, but I feel that I ought to see the bailiff. There must be matters to attend…’

  ‘Time enough for that,’ Isham told him firmly. ‘We can discuss them as we go.’ He rang the bell to order the horses saddled and brought round.

  As they set off Giles turned to him and smiled. ‘Thanks for coming to my rescue. For these past few days I have heard of nothing but the latest fashions and the merits of Brussels lace against that of Nottingham. I know nothing of such matters, so it was useless to appeal to me.’

  Isham laughed. ‘Best make up your mind to it, my dear fellow. For the ladies this will be the main topic of conversation until Letty is wed. Just grin and bear it. A man can do nothing else.’

  Giles nodded. ‘Is all well with the estate? I’d hoped to try some of the newest farming methods this year. Pray heaven we get a better harvest. These last few years have been a disaster on the land.’

  ‘You’ve done your best in impossible circumstances.’ Isham did not elaborate. Both he and his companion were aware that Gareth Rushford had been a drain upon the family’s resources for more years than his son could remember. ‘I like your ideas. Perhaps you’ll give me the benefit of your expertise on some of my other properties?’

  Such praise warmed the heart of his companion. Giles was a countryman to the core. He kept abreast of all the latest developments in agriculture, taking note of any innovations which might be of use to him.

  Now he flushed with pleasure, but feeling slightly embarrassed he was quick to change the subject.

  ‘You must have much upon your mind,’ he said. ‘Have you news from London? We were rather out of touch at Bristol.’

  Isham frowned. ‘The riots in the north have spread, and the Government won’t hear of moderation. I voted against the Framebreakers’ Bill, but it was passed. Even Byron spoke out against it in his maiden speech, but to no effect.’

  ‘Byron?’ Giles looked surprised. ‘I always thought him a frippery sort of fellow.’

  ‘So did I, but he was clear that repression was not the answer. “Can you commit a whole country to their own prisons? Will you erect a gibbet in every field and hang men up like scarecrows?” he asked. I could only agree with him.’

  ‘Even though Henry was killed by the rioters?’

  ‘Even so. Starving men should not be executed and transported when they try to save their livelihood. The means they chose were violent, but they were in a desperate plight, and the Government ignored them.’

  ‘Byron continues with the struggle?’

  ‘Alas, no! He is lionised everywhere since the publication of his epic poem. The women leave him no time for ought but dalliance.’

  ‘Have you read it?’ Giles began to smile.

  ‘I tried,’ Isham replied with feeling. ‘I must be lacking in sensibility, but these gothic flights of fancy are not to my taste.’

  ‘And India?’

  ‘India cannot understand the fuss about Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage. For that I must be grateful. Poor William Lamb has lost his wife to the fellow. The scandal has London by the ears.’

  ‘Shall you go up again quite soon?’

  ‘I must appear for the reading of the Catholic Bill. Wellesley resigned on the matter a couple of months ago. He doesn’t believe in emancipation.’

  Giles looked blank. ‘Oh, I thought it was because of the Government’s support of the Peninsular war.’

  ‘That too. The last we heard was that Wellington was planning to take Badajoz. Let us hope that he is successful. We need a victory.’

  Still discussing the conduct of the war in Spain, the two men rode along until they reached the outskirts of the village. Then Isham changed the subject.

  ‘Your friend Tom Newby puts up at the Angel,’ he remarked. ‘He sent yesterday to ask for you. We’d be happy to have him stay at the Grange if you care to ask him.’

  ‘Oh, would you? How good you are! He is the best of fellows, and I stayed with him last summer. But…er…will it not be too much for India to have a visitor in the house?’

  ‘It will not!’ Isham replied firmly. ‘The staff know better than to trouble her with domestic details. They do so at their peril.’

  Giles grinned. ‘I don’t doubt it. Well, then, if you are sure, I’ll stop by at the Angel and speak to Tom. He’s something of a rattle-pate, but I won’t let him tire her.’

  ‘She’ll enjoy a change of company.’ With this assurance Isham raised a hand in salute and rode off to keep his fictitious appointment. In the event, he turned into his favourite bookshop in search of the latest novels for his wife.

  Giles had no difficulty in finding Thomas Newby. That gentleman was seated comfortably in the snug, toasting himself by a roaring fire and addressing a tankard of ale with every appearance of enjoyment.

  ‘There you are, old chap!’ Thomas hailed his friend with a bea
ming smile. ‘I made sure you’d look me up as soon as you got back from…Bristol…was it not?’

  ‘It was.’ Giles raised a finger to summon the landlord. ‘Ever been there, Newby?’

  ‘Not that I recall. A seaport, ain’t it, full of slaves and tobacco?’ Having given Giles the benefit of his scant knowledge of geography Thomas sought further information. ‘Lively, is it and full of pretty wenches?’

  ‘I have no idea,’ Giles said drily. ‘Young Wells and my sister Letty were the only young company and they had eyes only for each other. An engagement, you see. I spent my time playing cards with the dowagers…’

  Thomas whistled in surprise. ‘Dangerous! Some of those old biddies spend their lives at cards. They could teach the faro-dealers a thing or two. Did they clean you out?’

  Giles gave him a wry grin. ‘Unlikely…at a penny a point…!’

  Thomas shook his head. ‘Dear old chap! How did you stand the excitement?’

  ‘It wasn’t easy!’ The humour of the situation struck Giles suddenly and both men roared with laughter.

  ‘That’s better! You looked a bit down, old fellow.’ Thomas was too much of a gentleman to pry into his friend’s private affairs. ‘How goes the world with you these days? Heard you were managing an estate.’

  ‘It belongs to my sister. By the way, she asks if you would care to stay with us. You’ll like her. India is a great gun, and Letty too. India married Isham last December. I expect you heard of it. Do you know him?’

  ‘I know of him.’ Thomas said carefully. ‘Always thought him a bit above my touch.’

  ‘So did I. At first I was against the match, but I was wrong. He’s made my sister as happy as a grig. I think him the best of men.’

  ‘That’s good enough for me. I’ll be happy to accept your invitation.’ Thomas rang for the landlord and ordered his bags brought down.

  ‘Fine country this,’ he observed as they rode towards the Grange. ‘Is it good farming land?’

  It was enough to launch Giles into his favourite subject, and Thomas was content. He’d seen from the first that Giles had something on his mind. He had little knowledge of agriculture, but beneath his clowning he was a kindly man.

 

‹ Prev