Lavender sat up and started to pick the dried grass out of her hair. She could feel Barney’s dark gaze appraising her, moving over her face and figure with an intentness that brought the colour into her already flushed face. He sat down on a nearby tree stump.
‘You look very pretty today. The pink suits you.’
They were not the polished words of a society gallant but they made Lavender blush harder all the same. ‘Thank you, sir. Are you…Did you wish to see me?’
‘I did.’ Barney looked ill at ease. His tone was suddenly formal. ‘I wanted to apologise for my conduct the other night, Miss Brabant. I fear I must have given you a disgust of me—’
‘Oh no!’ Lavender could not help the involuntary interruption, for secretly she had hoped he would repeat his conduct plenty of times. ‘Mr Hammond—’
‘Please hear me out.’ Barney’s face was expressionless. ‘Miss Brabant, I behaved towards you as no gentleman should do—’
‘Please!’ Lavender scrambled to her feet. ‘Do not say any more, Mr Hammond!’
She realised that Barney had interpreted her embarrassment as ladylike shrinking when in fact it was simply that she did not wish to hear him humble himself. Before she could correct this false impression, he stood up.
‘Yes, having said my piece I should leave you. But I would like to thank you, Miss Brabant, for your kindness in encouraging my work. I will not forget it.’ He put a hand into his pocket and took out a small book. ‘You mentioned that you would like to see the old books on botany that I had in my possession. This is one of them, and no use to me as I do not read the Latin script! I should be honoured if you would accept it.’
‘Oh!’ Lavender took the little book, feeling the smooth old leather binding beneath her fingers. ‘You cannot give me this! It must be of great value—’
Barney shrugged easily. ‘I inherited it from my mother but as I said, I cannot read it. I would rather it went to someone who would treasure it.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘A parting gift, Miss Brabant.’
He sketched a bow and made to turn away. The tears pricked in Lavender’s throat. She understood that this was a permanent farewell. What he was really saying to her was that they could not meet again—it was foolish and inappropriate to indulge in a relationship that could never lead to more. A few days before she might have agreed with him, but now she could not let him go so tamely. She thought quickly.
‘Mr Hammond, if we are not to…meet again, there is something I wish to tell you. Would you do me the honour of listening?’
Barney paused. Lavender could feel his reluctance, but she was depending on his innate good manners. Surely he would not refuse to hear her out? She held her breath.
‘Very well, Miss Brabant,’ Barney said unwillingly, ‘but I must be gone shortly.’
Lavender gave him a smile of relief. ‘Of course. Thank you! There is a bench over there beneath the trees. Shall we—’
They walked to the stone bench at the top of the orchard. Barney helped her to a seat first, then sat down an irreproachable three feet away. He did not look at her directly, but fixed his gaze a little sternly on the topiary figures that lined the path in the rose garden below. Lavender cleared her throat.
‘The last time we met,’ she said carefully, ‘you reproached me for keeping secrets, sir. Since we will not speak like this again, there is something that I would wish you to know.’
Barney’s gaze came back from the topiary and fixed on her face.
‘Yes, Miss Brabant?’
‘It concerns the night you saw me by the pool in the forest,’ Lavender said. She took a deep breath. ‘You were not mistaken, Mr Hammond. You did indeed see me dig up a bundle of clothes from a hole beneath the river bank. I brought them home and burned them on the kitchen fire.’ She looked sideways at him, trying to read his face. Barney was watching her closely, but he said not one word. Somehow this seemed to make it more difficult. Lavender swallowed hard.
‘It was the second time in two days that I had been to the pool,’ she said slowly. ‘I had been there the previous night, the night of the Marquis of Sywell’s death, although I knew that not at the time. I was waiting for a night-flowering plant to bloom.’ She paused, distracted. ‘It was the Enchanter’s Nightshade, you know, and I had heard that it opened in the moonlight, but I think it must be only a tale, for certainly I did not see it—’
‘So what did you see instead?’
Barney’s quietly worded question brought Lavender back to the point.
‘Oh! Yes, of course. I saw a figure come down to the pool, wash himself in the water and bury something under the bank. I thought…I could not be sure…’ She looked up and met his gaze. ‘I could not really tell who it was.’
Barney’s eyes had narrowed thoughtfully. ‘But you suspect someone. I can tell—’
Lavender shivered, although the sun was still warm. She wrapped her arms about herself. ‘Yes, I do suspect, but I cannot be sure. All I saw was a man’s figure, though I thought I recognised him. I was mightily puzzled by what I was seeing. It was full dark, and the clothes just looked like a pile of rags. Naturally, I wondered what he was doing! But the next day I heard the tale of the Marquis’s murder and I suddenly thought…’
‘You thought you had seen the murderer? And you went back to the pool a second time to see what you could find?’
‘I did.’ Lavender pulled a face. ‘Foolish of me. I should have left well alone, but curiosity…’ She shrugged. ‘I found the clothes hidden under the bank and they were all over blood, and so I thought that whoever it was that I had seen must have killed the Marquis that night.’
Barney was shaking his head. ‘Why did you take the clothing away? And burn it! That makes you seem guilty yourself—’
‘I know!’ Lavender sighed. ‘I sat there for what seemed like hours with the bloodstained clothes in my hands, and I thought of what would happen if I told anyone what I had seen.’ She made a slight gesture. ‘Oh, I did not keep quiet for scandal’s sake, or anything like that, but I could not be sure of who I had seen that night and I did not want to accuse an innocent man.’ She shook her head. ‘I knew then that I could not tell anything of what I had seen.’
Barney shifted a little on the bench. ‘But why did you burn his clothing? Why not just leave it there?’
‘I was afraid that someone might stumble across it! Many people use the pool—’ Lavender broke off, remembering that she had seen Barney himself swim there. ‘I did not think the matter through very well,’ she added hastily, ‘for once the clothes were burned and gone, it suddenly occurred to me that their owner might return to retrieve them and find them missing! And I can scarce reassure him—’
Barney smiled. ‘And so your deception began to catch you out! Lavender, it is clear that you know who the murderer is, or at the very least, who it was you saw that night. I would wager that you are partly keeping quiet to protect him, for all that you pretend you do not know his identity! It must be someone for whom you have a great deal of respect. Will you tell me who it was?’
Lavender shook her head. Barney’s observation was perceptive, for she did indeed have a very clear suspicion of who the murderer was and she held him in the highest esteem, but even so…
‘It would not be right,’ she said uneasily. ‘I have no wish to accuse an innocent man and I cannot be sure.’ She pulled a stem of the long grass through her fingers. ‘Last time we spoke of this, Mr Hammond, you told me that it was not my decision to make. Well, I have taken that right, but now you may denounce me if you wish!’
There was silence but for the soft, repetitive coo of the white doves on the Manor roof. After a long moment, Barney said, ‘Why did you tell me, Miss Brabant?’
Lavender looked away from that observant regard. The truth was that it was because she loved him and could not bear him to think ill of her. The first she could not say, but perhaps the second…
‘I wanted to tell you the truth,’ she said, avoiding his gaze
by watching the swing of the weathervane on the stables. ‘I could not bear for you to believe I was protecting someone for all the wrong reasons. Nor, if I am not to see you again, could I bear you to carry away a poor opinion of me—’
‘I’ll not do that.’ For a moment Barney’s hand covered hers on the warm stone of the seat. Lavender’s pulse leaped. She looked into his eyes and saw the dizzying combination of love and wanting that dried her throat and made her heart race, but in that moment it was gone and Barney was speaking again, deliberately expressionless.
‘Thank you for telling me. I shall keep your secret, Miss Brabant.’ Their eyes met, Barney’s lightened by a faint smile. ‘I shall have to trust your judgement that you are doing the right thing in keeping quiet.’ He shrugged. ‘Well, so be it. It has been an honour to know you, Miss Brabant, but now I must go.’
Lavender watched his tall figure walk between the trees, down the topiary path and round the side of the house to the stable yard. A few minutes later he rode out onto the drive, raising a casual hand in thanks and farewell to the groom. Lavender thought of his instinctive authority and the easy courtesy he had with all men, and raged inwardly at the barriers of birth and class that stood against him. He had recognised them himself and had bowed to the inevitable by repudiating her. And because he had done it with such grace, he had made it impossible for Lavender to oppose him.
By the time that darkness fell, the threatened thunderstorm was upon them. After dinner they sat in the library with the curtains drawn and the candles lit, and listened to the rain hurling itself against the window panes and the thunder rumbling ever closer. Lavender had abandoned the precise prose of Sense and Sensibility in favour of something more dashing and had plucked Marmion from the library shelves. Caroline was sewing and discussing developments in the American War with Lewis, who was reading them the latest dispatches as recorded in the newspaper.
‘The truth is that the Americans have a navy as good, if not better, than our own,’ Lewis said dryly, as he turned a page. ‘I know it is hard for the Lords of the Admiralty to accept it, but those of us who served in a more humble capacity could see the change coming for many a year!’ He shook his head. ‘I fear that they may be in for a sharp shock!’
Lavender let her book fall to her lap and stared thoughtfully at the candles. She had fully expected to suffer a reversal of spirits after her meeting with Barney, but was surprised to find that she felt quite buoyant. It was as though she had not really accepted that they could not be together and expected the situation to resolve itself, and soon. She did not question this rash assumption, but sat feeling content as she listened to the murmur of Lewis and Caroline’s conversation, and the thunder overhead.
It was hardly a night for visitors and they all jumped when the bell sounded, harsh in the quiet house. Caroline folded her needlework into a tidy square and got to her feet.
‘Gracious, who can that be calling in the middle of a storm? I know that the Covinghams said that they might call, but surely not now! Lewis—’
The door opened to admit Kimber, the butler. He bowed. ‘Captain Brabant, a gentleman by the name of Sir Thomas Kenton is without. He is marooned by the storm and has stopped to seek shelter here.’
Lewis strolled out into the hall, Caroline and Lavender at his heels. An elderly gentleman was standing there, leaning on a gold-topped cane and dripping water on to the floor from his great coat. A huge flash of lightning lit the house, dimming the candlelight.
The gentleman brightened when he saw them, smiling gently and blinking with myopic blue eyes. He was frail and looked to Lavender like an elderly scholar who had unaccountably wandered out on the worst night of the year.
‘Captain Brabant, sir?’ The gentleman bowed to Lewis. ‘Sir Thomas Kenton, at your service. Ladies…’ He bowed again with old-fashioned courtesy to Lavender and Caroline, before turning back to Lewis.
‘I apologise for this intrusion, sir, but I am a traveller in dire need of help and stumbled on your house through sheer good chance. Can you furnish me with the direction of the nearest inn? One of my carriage horses has gone lame and I fear I will not make home, for all that it is only ten miles—’
Lewis smiled. ‘I could direct you, sir, but would not dream of turning you out into such a night as this! You must stay here, at least until the storm abates. My head groom will see to the stabling of your horses.’
Sir Thomas looked worried and relieved at the same time. ‘Oh indeed, I could not thus impose on your hospitality—’
‘No imposition, sir,’ Caroline said now, coming forward and taking his arm. ‘Kimber, pray take Sir Thomas’s coat. Sir Thomas, will you take a glass of wine with us? Please join us in the library, and tell us how you come to be benighted in such a storm!’
They went back into the room, Caroline installing Sir Thomas in an armchair beside the fire, and fetching a glass of Madeira for him herself. In the light, Lavender could see that their guest was indeed frail, with a thatch of hair that was entirely white and a face as wrinkled as a walnut. Yet when he smiled he had the sweetest of expressions and a slow, warm smile that seemed strangely familiar. Lavender racked her brains, but the resemblance remained elusive.
Sir Thomas was warming his hands before the fire and reminiscing. ‘I do believe it is over thirty years since I was at Hewly, or perhaps more? I forget…But it was in the days before your father bought the Manor, Captain, for I believe it was part of the Perceval estate?’
‘It was indeed, sir.’ Lewis smiled. ‘Yet I do also believe we have met before, at one of the garden parties at Perceval Hall? It was many years ago, but you had brought a kite, your own invention, and flew it from the lawn!’
Sir Thomas looked delighted. ‘Why, so I did! Yes, I recall—you were that solemn child who asked so many questions! You had an elder brother, a bucolic boy who preferred the animals, and a little sister—a pretty, fairy child with silver gilt hair…’
‘I expect that that was Julia,’ Lavender said.
Caroline gave her an exasperated look. ‘I rather think that Sir Thomas is referring to you, Lavender!’
Sir Thomas nodded enthusiastically. ‘I remember it all now! The kite became stuck in a tree and one of the Perceval children climbed up to free it and fell out and feared he had broken his leg…’ He shook his head. ‘Ah, fine days, fine days!’
‘You were quite the inventor, sir!’ Lewis said. ‘I remember my father saying that you had designed the most excellent miniature battleship and that the Admiralty should have developed a full-size one!’
‘Ah well,’ Sir Thomas finished his wine and beamed at Caroline as she replenished his glass. ‘Those days are long gone, I fear! Yet still, I have my books. I do not go into company much these days.’
‘Your family?’ Lavender ventured, and was sorry to see Sir Thomas shake his head sadly.
‘All gone, my dear! My younger son died a long time ago, wild and foolish boy that he was.’ A shadow chased away his smile. ‘He had my enquiring spirit, I fear, and was forever off on mad starts! He wanted to study medicine and we quarrelled bitterly over it, for I did not see it as the work of a gentleman.’ Sir Thomas shook his head again. ‘Well, I was a stiff-necked old bigot in those days, but John went off abroad and fell ill with a fever and I never saw him again…’
There was a silence, but for the crackling of the fire. ‘It is not good for a man to outlive his sons,’ Sir Thomas said eventually. ‘It makes him old to have no family about him.’ He roused himself and gave them all his gentle smile. ‘It is good to see new life breathed into this house, at any rate! Tell me of your plans, Mrs Brabant!’
They spent a convivial couple of hours discussing the restoration of the house and garden, before Caroline gently pressed Sir Thomas to accept their hospitality for the night. As the rain was still drumming on the roof he took little persuasion, and presently requested a book to take up to his room with him.
‘I can see I am spoilt for choice,’ he said, browsin
g along the library shelves, and pausing to consider Plato’s Republic. He picked it up, then put it back and took up The Iliad with a fond smile. ‘Too martial for my time of life, perhaps…Something more soothing would be in order, I believe. Architecture, or horticulture…’
‘I have a splendid book on botany here,’ Lavender said, passing him the slender volume that Barney had given her earlier. ‘You might not wish for the exertion of reading in Latin tonight, sir, but it is well worth the trouble! It is full of the most fascinating—’
She stopped as she saw the expression on Sir Thomas’s face, a mixture of puzzlement and suspicion. He was weighing the little book in the palm of his hand and staring at it as though he had seen a ghost. He ran a hand through his thick thatch of white hair.
‘Oh, but surely…This is the one that we…I thought—’
He looked from Lavender to the book, then turned a few pages.
‘No mistaking…’ She heard him mutter. ‘The very one! And at the start—’
He turned back to the title page. ‘I thought so!’
They all looked at him in confusion. ‘Sir Thomas?’ Caroline questioned.
Sir Thomas was holding the book up triumphantly so that the light fell on the title page. ‘The arms of Kenton!’ He declared. ‘I thought so! This was one of my most prized works, but John borrowed it from me and I never saw it again! Of all the odd coincidences! But—’ his brow furrowed ‘—how came it into your possession, my dear?’
‘It was a present from a friend,’ Lavender said hastily, seeing that Lewis and Caroline were watching her curiously. ‘I saw the coat of arms, but did not know its provenance. It is of no consequence. If the book is yours, sir, then you must have it back.’
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