An Unlikely Suitor

by Nicola Cornick

  Lavender frowned slightly at what seemed to be a non sequitur. ‘Oh! But there is no likelihood of that, Miss Covingham! I am well past my last prayers and do not intend to marry!’

  It seemed she had uttered the unthinkable. Frances gave a little shriek and caught her arm. ‘Oh, Miss Brabant!’ Frances said breathlessly. ‘But that is impossible! Of course you must marry!’

  Lavender raised her eyebrows, smiling. ‘Indeed! Must I? Why so, Miss Covingham?’

  ‘Well…’ Frances seemed quite taken aback at the challenge. Lavender waited confidently for her to say that all girls should hunt themselves a husband, but when Frances finally replied it literally took Lavender’s breath away.

  ‘Because you are so pretty!’ her new-found friend declared triumphantly. ‘Oh Miss Brabant, it would be such a waste otherwise!’

  Later, when Frances had said goodnight with many professions of friendship and had promised to show her the estate the following day, Lavender lay in her vast bed and looked up at the scarlet drapes that hung above her head. It was foolish for a woman of sense to be so moved by a compliment, and yet when Frances had declared how pretty she was, Lavender had almost asked her if she was sure. Perhaps it was true. Her hair was, after all, a very attractive silver gilt colour—not the fashionable golden blonde of the London beauties, perhaps, but still quite nice. And she had often been told that her deep lavender blue eyes were her best feature…Smiling slightly, she fell asleep and dreamed, rather improbably, of ribbons and lace, and gowns of rose crêpe and lavender to match her eyes.

  The following day was fair and whilst Lewis went off into Northampton to see his man of business, the ladies took a carriage and drove about the estate. Riding Park was a very fine house, an Elizabethan mansion in red brick, with rolling parkland and a beautiful lake. Lavender was particularly taken with the hunting-lodge, which stood between the walled gardens and the park, and Frances gleefully told her that it was haunted by the ghost of the first owner, Sir Thomas Gleason, who was supposed to walk from the Lodge to the house on stormy nights.

  ‘They say he was a philanthropist who bemoans the fact that the money he left in trust for the poor was stolen by the rich,’ Frances confided, her eyes huge. ‘He walks with his steeple hat under one arm, and wears a ruff, doublet and hose! What do you think of that, Miss Brabant! I declare I should faint with fright were I to see him!’

  ‘They do say that Hewly is haunted,’ Caroline put in, from her seat opposite the girls. ‘The Grey Lady, is it not, Lavender? I have never seen her, but they say she stalks the house when there is about to be a death in the family.’

  Frances shivered enjoyably. ‘Oh, how Gothic! Poor, desperate creature that she must be!’

  Caroline and Lavender exchanged a smile.

  ‘Frances is the dearest creature, is she not?’ Caroline said later, when, having dressed for dinner she came along to see how Lavender was progressing. ‘I was so hoping that the two of you would be friends. For although you have scarcely an interest in common, I dare swear you think her the sweetest girl!’

  Lavender was spending longer in front of the mirror than was customary, for she was trying out a new hairstyle, one that involved a bandeau of pale green to match her dress. It also entailed a complicated procedure of curling her hair into ringlets and gathering them up on one side of her head. The suggestion had quite taken her maid by surprise and consequently had thrown her into a fluster until Caroline had appeared and had the good sense to call Frances’s own maid to help. The result was rather pleasing, Lavender thought, as she turned this way and that to admire her reflection.

  ‘Oh, Frances is a lovely girl,’ she agreed heartily, gathering up her bag and fan. ‘She has promised to help me dress for the ball on Friday night. And we are to go shopping together in Northampton tomorrow, Caro. Is this not fun!’

  And she totally failed to see Caroline’s expression of amused surprise as she swept out of the room on the way down to dinner.

  The whole party drove into Northampton on the following day. Although Lavender had been to the town several times before, this was the first time that she had approached from the west, over the river and up Black Lion Hill into the Marefair. As they grew near, the whole town was spread out before them and they all agreed it to be a very fine sight indeed. On such a sunny day the jumble of roofs shone in the light and the stone gleamed warm.

  They drove past St Peter’s Church, and into the Horsemarket, and Lady Anne requested that the coach set them down in Mercers Row.

  Lavender leant forward to look at the passing shops and houses. ‘The buildings are very fine, are they not? I do so wish I could come into the town again just to walk round and admire the architecture! A sight-seeing tour of the churches would be great fun, for I know I have read that they are all very splendid…’

  Frances, who had been discussing with her mother the rival merits of several dressmakers’ shops, broke off, looking horrified. ‘A tour of the churches…’ She caught Lady Anne’s eye and recovered herself. ‘Well, if you wish it, dearest Lavender, I shall be happy to accompany you.’

  Lavender smiled at her. ‘You are very noble, Frances, but I should not put you to so much trouble! I know that ancient monuments are not to everyone’s taste!’

  Frances looked relieved. ‘Well, I’ll own that it is not a great interest of mine, but I do assure you, Lavender, that I should be very pleased to go with you!’ She brightened. ‘Indeed, I could act as guide myself! I remember that St Sepulchre’s church is one of a very few in the country with a round tower.’ She screwed her face up. ‘It dates from the…thirteenth century! There! Mrs Brabant! Are you not proud of me!’ And she dissolved into irresistible giggles at the looks of frank amazement on everyone’s faces. ‘Oh dear, I shall never be a bluestocking, but I can still surprise you all!’

  They dismounted from the carriage at the Bear inn, and swiftly went their separate ways. Lord Freddie wanted to visit the gunsmith’s and Lewis arranged to meet him there after he had consulted his man of business. Meanwhile Frances and Lady Anne needed to call in at the drapers to pick a few final necessities for the ball. Frances also wanted to visit the milliners, the haberdashers, the linen-drapers and the perfumiers, but Lady Anne shook her head decisively over this last and said that poudre subtil was not appropriate for young girls. Frances was not squashed and caught Lavender’s arm, eagerly encouraging her to look in the window of the first of many drapers’ shops.

  ‘Oh Lavender, look at that bonnet! Now which would be most becoming, the red or the green?’

  Lavender looked at her thoughtfully. ‘I do believe the green would suit your colouring best, Frances. The red is pretty, but the green matches your eyes.’

  Frances seemed much struck by this. ‘I do believe you are right, Lavender! You have good taste! Well, we shall see!’ She rummaged in her reticule. ‘I fear I have little of my allowance left, but there may be just enough…But I will not choose just yet, for there are so many other shops to see!’

  Lavender, who had not intended making any purchases, found that under Frances’s encouragement it was easy to buy a very pretty spencer tippet and a fur muff for winter. She watched with amusement as Frances swept through each shop, collecting ostrich feathers, silk gloves and embroidered handkerchiefs with complete abandonment. Finally, when Frances had declared her interest in a Turkish turban, Lavender was forced to intervene and point out that it made her look too matronly.

  ‘I do not know how you may be so sparing, Lavender,’ Frances complained, looking from her own pile of purchases to Lavender’s modest parcel. ‘Why, you should be stocking up with all the necessaries for a tolerable winter! Surely the best shops in Abbot Quincey cannot match your choice here!’

  Lavender turned away and pretended to examine a blue scarf. ‘We have the best draper’s imaginable in Abbot’s Quincey,’ she said lightly. ‘Arthur Hammond himself—’

  ‘Hammonds!’ Frances squeaked excitedly. ‘I had all but forgot! We cannot
go back without a visit to his emporium!’

  Lavender hung back, suddenly wishing she had not been prompted to mention the name. She did not wish to risk a visit to Arthur Hammond’s shop, although it was scarcely likely that Barney would be there.

  ‘But we have plenty of purchases already, Frances!’ she said hastily. ‘You will be bankrupting yourself with any more!’

  Frances brushed this aside. ‘What nonsense!’ She hurried across to the counter, where Lady Anne was buying some embroidered muslin. ‘Mama, I know we are due back any moment, but may we just call in at Hammonds on the way? Oh please…They have the very best goods…’

  The shop assistant serving Lady Anne gave Frances a glare at the mention of such a rival, but Lady Anne seemed nothing loath.

  ‘Very well, my love,’ she said, ‘but only for a moment or the gentlemen will set off home without us!’

  Lavender made her way over to Caroline, who was resting on a chair in an alcove whilst she waited for the others.

  ‘Does it suit you to go on to another shop, dearest Caro?’ Lavender asked anxiously. ‘You are sure you are not too tired? If you wish to go back to the inn I will gladly come with you…’

  Caroline gave her a searching look. ‘I am very well, I thank you, Lavender, but I appreciate your concern. Do I gather from your reluctance that Frances has suggested we visit Hammonds? If you do not wish to go there and buy some more gloves, I shall come with you back to the inn…’

  Lavender blushed. She was not at all sure how her sister-in-law had guessed that she had an aversion to Hammonds at present, nor was she going to ask.

  ‘Oh no, I am very happy to go there,’ she said airily. ‘I was only concerned that you should not tire yourself—’

  ‘Very thoughtful, my love,’ Caroline said with a smile, ‘and I am sure that Mr Hammond will not be in Northampton today—’

  Lavender shot out of the shop before Caroline could humiliate her further and before Frances should start asking awkward questions. The chill air on the street served to cool her red face a little. She reflected ruefully that Caroline was obviously some kind of clairvoyant, for she could swear that she had not mentioned Hammonds and in particular Mr Barney Hammond for at least ten days. Even when she had returned ignominiously from her accident in the wood, she had managed to skate adroitly over the fact that it was Barney who had found her there and escorted her home. She stared fiercely at a gold shawl in the shop window and told herself that she was being foolish. There should be no particular reason for her to avoid Barney Hammond, nor to seek him out, for that matter. She should just behave naturally.

  Even so, when they reached the doorway of Hammond’s Emporium, she was most reluctant to go in. It did not improve the situation that the first person they saw was Arthur Hammond himself, who looked first surprised and then unctuously satisfied to see them. He rushed forward, almost knocking over an elderly lady in his hurry to greet them.

  ‘Ladies! How charming to see you! How may I be of assistance?’

  It seemed that in very short order, every sales assistant in the shop was scurrying round to measure and cut—lace for Caroline, sarcenet for Lady Anne, stockings for Frances, which Hammond passed to her with a roguish smile. All the other customers, with their flannel petticoats and ribbons, were obliged to wait, whilst Hammond rubbed his hands and said how honoured he was to have such noble visitors, until Lavender left the shop in very disgust.

  She stood on the pavement and gazed at the apothecary’s shop next door whilst a feeling of relief crept through her that Barney had not been present. Then a voice said, ‘How do you do, Miss Brabant? It is an unexpected pleasure to see you here in Northampton.’

  Barnabas Hammond was standing before her in a coat of blue superfine, buff pantaloons and a pair of boots that Lavender suspected owed more to Hobys of London than the admittedly excellent shoemakers of Northampton. The coat fitted his broad shoulders without one superfluous wrinkle, and suited his tall figure to perfection. Lavender found herself staring and tried to stop, but seemed unable to do so. His dark hair was worn a little long and curled thickly over the collar of his jacket. He looked freshly shaved and smelled very faintly and deliciously of eau-de-cologne. Yet none of that was what really compelled her attention. Lavender puzzled, and came to the conclusion that it was somehow Barney’s containment that was so attractive, the impression of raw power captured and held under control, but barely. He was not cut out to play the society fop, polished and perfumed. He was too physical a man for that. His appearance conjured up a dangerous vision, the image of him in the pool, the brown, muscular body, the water sliding over him…Or during the fencing match, his shirt sticking to his body as he moved with skill and grace…

  Lavender swallowed hard and tried to summon up a polite social smile. The streets of Northampton were in no way an appropriate place for such wayward thoughts.

  ‘Mr Hammond! How do you do, sir?’

  ‘I am well, thank you.’ There was the implication of a smile in Barney’s voice. He did not say anything else, but watched her with those very dark eyes that always made Lavender feel strangely self-conscious. She could feel it now, feel her already shaky social skills slipping away from her. All she could think of was that she had made a complete fool of herself the last time they had met, and now she was set fair to do the same again. Her gaze fixed desperately on the parcel in his arms.

  ‘You have been shopping, I see,’ she said, with what she knew to be ghastly archness. ‘Have you bought anything interesting?’

  ‘I have been to the apothecary’s shop for some remedies for my mother,’ Barney said with a smile. ‘I was in there when I saw you. She always gives me a commission, for she swears by Dr Anderson’s Scotts Pills and Vegetable Syrup of de Velnos!’

  ‘What maladies do they cure?’ Lavender asked, fascinated by the slow amusement in his voice and the warmth in those dark eyes. Barney smiled and her heart gave a little skip.

  ‘Just about everything, I believe!’ he said cheerfully. ‘Certainly my mama suffers from just about every disease known to man! She has a copy of Solomon’s Guide to Health at home, Miss Brabant, and looks up every ailment in it! It gives her great pleasure to decide what she will suffer from next!’

  Lavender giggled and tried to turn it into a cough. ‘Oh dear. You do not sound very sympathetic, sir…’

  ‘No.’ The amusement died from Barney’s face. ‘Your pardon. I should not make a joke of it. Truth to tell, the apothecary’s business has always fascinated me. Whilst there are any number of false remedies for sale, and some positively dangerous, I believe, there are some chemists and pharmacists who do the most interesting work. I should like—’ He broke off, turning slightly away. ‘I beg your pardon, Miss Brabant. I can become most tedious on the subject!’

  Lavender opened her mouth to contradict him, but in that moment they were joined by the gentleman whom Lavender had last seen pitting his fencing skill so unsuccessfully against Barney that day in the forest. He was tall and fair, and at close quarters Lavender could see that he had a twinkle in his blue eyes and a humorous set to his mouth. Barney performed the introductions very smoothly.

  ‘Miss Brabant, this is Mr James Oliver, a friend of mine. Jamie, this is Miss Lavender Brabant.’

  Mr Oliver bowed. ‘Delighted to meet you, Miss Brabant. I believe you must be another of the inhabitants of the Abbey villages? I rather think I recognise the name—’

  Lavender was just explaining where Hewly fitted in when the rest of her party spilled out of the doorway, chattering excitedly about their purchases. They broke off when they saw that Lavender had company.

  ‘Mr Hammond! What a pleasant surprise!’ Caroline smiled at Barney and held out her hand. ‘What brings you to Northampton, sir?’

  ‘I am here on business,’ Barney said, achieving an elegant bow over her hand. ‘How do you do, ma’am? Ladies…’

  Introductions were effected. James Oliver mentioned that they were going to the books
ellers to collect tickets for a concert that night and they all fell into step as Lady Anne invited the gentlemen to escort them back to the Bear inn on their way.

  Whilst James chatted to Frances, Lady Anne and Caroline engaged Barney in conversation. Lavender felt secretly chagrined. In a contrary fashion, she had been hoping he would walk beside her.

  ‘Do you find much to amuse you in Northampton, Mr Hammond?’ Lady Anne enquired. ‘It is only a small town but it seems quite lively!’

  Barney gave her his slow smile and Lavender was almost sure she saw Lady Anne blink under its impact. It seemed that no one was immune.

  ‘There is certainly plenty to see and do, ma’am!’ Barney was saying. ‘Tonight we are promised for a concert at the guildhall, as James mentioned. It was a choice between the recital and a performer of magical illusions, but I prefer the music because I am forever trying to work out how the magic tricks are done! It ruins one’s enjoyment!’

  ‘You must be a scientific gentleman, Mr Hammond,’ Lady Anne said, with a smile. ‘For my part I am always fascinated by such sleight of hand and never pause to question how it comes about!’

  They reached the Bear and found the gentlemen already waiting for them in the parlour. Whilst they all shook hands, Lady Anne seemed struck with a good idea.

  ‘Mr Hammond, Mr Oliver, are you already engaged for Friday night? If not you must come to our ball! No, positively you must! It would be delightful!’

  Lavender felt rather than saw Barney glance across quickly at her. It seemed obvious to her that he was torn between a polite lie and a reluctant acceptance. Her heart sank as she decided his natural inclination would be to avoid the ball on her account.

  ‘Well, ma’am, you are most kind…’ Barney began, ‘but I do not think—’

  ‘Oh, come now, old fellow,’ James interposed, with a lazy smile at Frances, ‘don’t disappoint the ladies!’