Spoiled

by Barker, Ann

  ‘It’s very regrettable, but I don’t see what can be done,’ replied Fellowes. ‘Pity. Amelia’s a nice little thing.’

  ‘She is a heartbroken little thing at the moment. He shouldn’t be arousing expectations and then not fulfilling them. It makes me wonder how many other ladies he has deceived by his behaviour.’

  ‘I’m surprised that you were willing to agree to the match,’ he remarked. ‘It’s not as though he is a great catch, after all.’

  ‘No, but Amelia is our only child and I have no desire to see her go far away from here. With what her father will leave her, she will be very comfortably off one day. She has no need to marry for money. Buckleigh must have guessed that we would be willing to allow a match between him and Amelia.’

  ‘He has obviously decided that Miss Granby will be a better bet.’

  Lady Belton sniffed. ‘The Granbys will never allow a marriage between their daughter and the curate. Why do you think they keep taking her to London? They hope to make a great match for her, mark my words. I hope that I am not so mercenary! Buckleigh ought to be punished for what he has done.’

  Fellowes smiled to himself, suddenly seeing a way of settling a score. ‘Poor little Amelia. You could always lodge a complaint against him, I suppose.’

  ‘A complaint?’

  ‘With the bishop. I doubt he would be very pleased to hear about such behaviour.’

  ‘An excellent idea,’ Lady Belton exclaimed. ‘At one and the same time, he will be punished for what he has done, and, with any luck, removed from Illingham where Amelia is bound to keep seeing him. Then perhaps we may see more of Lusty, and he is not yet spoken for. I shall write at once and you may deliver it for me.’

  ‘I should be delighted,’ Fellowes replied, remembering how the curate had questioned his conduct whilst secretly pursuing Evangeline Granby at the same time. When he took the letter to the bishop he would be sure to add a few words of his own.

  Chapter Eleven

  As Michael walked to Halfpenny House, which was situated at the other end of the village from his own home, it would have been hard to exaggerate how deeply troubled he was about what had occurred in the vestry.

  Evangeline was not the first woman to whom he had felt drawn, but he could not remember a woman ever tempting him as much as did she. What was more, he now found that he was thinking about her to the exclusion of other women. As a young man at university, his lustful feelings had been characterized by what he could only describe as a kind of roaring in the blood. When he looked at, or even thought about Evangeline, that same roaring came back. It had been a wonder that Old Sam had not discovered his curate half devouring the prettiest member of his congregation on the top of the vestry table!

  Not for the first time, Michael wondered about his ancestry and about what kind of man had fathered him. His mother had never spoken about him, but would not hear anything said against him either. Michael’s belief was that his father had been a libertine, for whom his mother had simply been one in a long string of conquests. She had been barely sixteen when he was born, for goodness’ sake! What kind of a monster seduced a child of that age? The actions of his father repelled him; but when he looked at a woman and felt that powerful surge of primeval desire, he feared that this was his inheritance from the man he had never known. The very idea disgusted him.

  His musings came to an end for a time as he arrived at Halfpenny House. It was something between the vicarage and his own cottage in size, and looked to be Jacobean, like Illingham Hall. A stately butler admitted him, assured him that Lady Agatha was within, and conducted him to a drawing room, where a lady dressed all in black was sitting at a table, writing.

  ‘Mr Buckleigh,’ she exclaimed, rising after the butler had announced him. ‘Welcome to Halfpenny House. Grimes, bring us some wine. You’re not a teetotalling Methodist, are you?’

  ‘No, my lady,’ Michael replied, making his bow. As he rose from his reverence he saw standing before him a diminutive lady of about fifty years of age. Her figure was neat, and her hair very dark, with a smattering of grey. Her eyes, too, were grey, under strongly marked brows, and her chin seemed to indicate strength of character. At once, he gained the distinct impression that this lady would make a powerful ally, but a formidable foe.

  ‘Hmm.’ She looked him up and down. ‘At least you look like a man; not like that insect, Lusty. Are you married?’

  ‘No, my lady,’ Michael answered, recalling his earlier reflections.

  ‘A pity. I would advise you to marry as soon as possible. You’re far too handsome to be single. The village wenches will be sniffing round you like dogs after a bone, if indeed they aren’t already doing so.’ The butler came in with wine, and set it down on a table. ‘Mr Buckleigh will pour,’ she said.

  Michael walked to the table, unaware that Lady Agatha was observing him with a narrowed gaze as she took in the unconscious grace of his movements. He poured two glasses of wine and took one to his hostess. ‘What do you think?’ she asked him casually. ‘It’s a new wine I’m trying. I don’t know much about it myself.’

  He held the glass up and observed the play of light on the deep red liquid. Then he held the glass under his nose and took a sniff. Finally he sipped it. ‘I would say order some more,’ he said eventually. ‘This is quite exceptional.’

  ‘You relieve me,’ she answered. In fact, the wine had been given to her by Lord Ilam from his own cellar. She had simply asked Michael’s opinion in order to test the quality of his palate. ‘Please be seated; no, not there.’ She indicated two seats near the window and placed him where the light would fall upon his face. ‘Now, Mr Buckleigh, you must tell me how you come to be in Illingham, acting as Lusty’s curate.’

  ‘My previous curacy came to an end,’ he told her. ‘Mr Lusty, I believe, has found it difficult to perform his duties here as well as continue as chaplain to the bishop, so I was appointed to assist him.’

  ‘Your curacy came to an end,’ Lady Agatha repeated. ‘Left under a cloud, did you? Got yourself entangled with a woman, no doubt.’

  ‘No indeed,’ Michael replied indignantly. ‘That was the previous—’ He halted, conscious that he had been indiscreet. ‘I beg your pardon,’ he concluded, embarrassed.

  ‘Not at all. I like to see that you’ve some passion in you. Are you pleased with the cottage that Ilam prepared for you?’

  ‘I’m delighted with it,’ he replied frankly. ‘Last time, I was in lodgings above a butcher’s shop.’

  Lady Agatha wrinkled her nose in distaste. ‘I cannot see why you do not have the use of the vicarage, but I suppose you would be hard pressed to maintain it on a curate’s stipend.’

  ‘The cottage is big enough for myself and my sister.’

  ‘Oh, your sister lives with you.’

  ‘She merely stays with me at present while her father travels abroad. I am hoping that she will make her home with me permanently.’

  ‘Of what age is she?’

  ‘She is eighteen.’

  ‘Indeed?’ Lady Agatha raised her brows. He looked at her, puzzled. There was something familiar about her features. He could not decide of whom she reminded him. ‘She must be considerably younger than yourself.’

  ‘I am twenty-eight, my lady.’

  ‘Indeed,’ said her ladyship again. Her expression had slowly relaxed during the last exchange until at this point, she was smiling in rather a knowing way. ‘You are much of an age with Ilam, then. Have you met him yet?’

  ‘No, you are the first member of your family whom it has been my privilege to meet.’

  There was a short silence, then Lady Agatha said, ‘I notice that when you spoke of your sister, you said “her father” and not “our father”. Was there a reason for that, or was it a slip of the tongue?’

  Michael narrowed his gaze. ‘Are you always so acute?’ he asked her. ‘I have never met my natural father. My stepfather married my mother shortly after I was born. My sister was the only child born of their
union.’

  ‘I see.’ Possibly judging that she had been quite intrusive enough, Lady Agatha now proceeded to talk about parish business, encouraging Michael to ask questions and giving him a good deal of useful information.

  ‘Why is this called the Halfpenny House?’ was one question he asked her curiously.

  She smiled. ‘It was built by one of my ancestors to house his mother-in-law, ’ she replied. ‘Apparently, it was either that or have the interfering old crone under his feet all the time. She only consented to live here on condition that she should pay rent for it. She wanted to shame him, you see. Instead, she was shamed, for he set the rent at just one halfpenny a year. After she died, my ancestor was so entertained by the notion that he set the rent at one halfpenny in perpetuity. There has been no one who has needed it recently, so Ilam has had to have quite a lot of work done in order to make it habitable. I’m sure he thinks that it is a small price to pay when set against the unpleasant prospect of having me living with him.’

  Michael inclined his head gracefully. ‘I’m very far from contradicting you, ma’am,’ he said.

  ‘No doubt you’d agree that I’m an interfering old crone as well,’ she added.

  ‘Certainly not,’ he answered. ‘Why, there is scarcely a grey hair on your head.’

  ‘You’re damned impertinent for a parson,’ she said bluntly, making him wonder for a moment whether he had gone too far. Then she added with a twinkle, ‘I can see we shall get on splendidly.’

  At the end of the visit, he rose to go. ‘I must thank you very much for your hospitality and for your interesting observations on parish life,’ he said, bowing with a grace which did not escape his hostess’s eye.

  ‘I was pleased to be of assistance,’ she said. ‘You must come again, but next time bring your sister. I do not think you told me her name?’

  ‘She is Theodora,’ he replied. Then, anticipating her next question, he added, ‘And mine is Michael.’

  Her smile broadened. ‘Of course it is,’ she replied elliptically. After he had gone she said aloud to the empty room, ‘Oh Raff, my dear brother, you have no idea! How very entertaining this is going to be.’

  The news that Michael received from Theodora on his return to the cottage caused him to be a prey to mixed feelings. On the one hand, he was delighted that his shy little sister should have taken so strongly to another young woman. That the young woman in question should have been Evangeline Granby was doubly pleasing to him. The very fact that she had come to his cottage had proved that he had not offended her beyond forgiveness. What had touched him the most, though, was the matter-of-fact way in which Evangeline had spoken about Theodora’s limp. It was a welcome contrast to Amelia’s barely concealed revulsion.

  What had made him less happy had been Theodora’s description of the arrival of Lieutenant Fellowes. A fair-minded man, Michael could well understand why his little sister had been impressed by a red-coated officer with blond waving hair. Knowing that to express disapproval would be to invest the soldier with a certain glamour, he merely smiled and said that he was pleased that she had had some company.

  Once upstairs in the privacy of his room, however, his expression took on a grimmer look. Lieutenant Fellowes might look all that was glamorous. Unfortunately, he had seen the soldier at work and he feared the influence that he might have upon a young girl who had very little experience of men of the world. What was more, he suspected that Fellowes would not be averse to using Theodora as a means for taking some revenge upon him for the way in which he, Michael, had questioned his conduct. It had never occurred to Michael when he had invited her to come and stay that he would have to watch out for predatory young men.

  Then, in a sudden moment of self knowledge, he realized that he was fooling himself. When he had discovered that Fellowes had been in the cottage in his absence, the thing that had angered him the most was not the thought that the man had been talking to his sister, but that he had ridden off with Miss Granby. Casual questions directed to Theodora had revealed that it had been a merry party, with everyone joining in with the conversation.

  He thought back to the kiss that he and Evangeline had shared. Had she actually returned his kiss, as he had supposed at the time, or had she simply suffered an embrace that he had forced upon her? Or, worst of all, was she actually the kind of flirt who enjoyed teasing more than one man at the same time? His heart protested against this idea; but his mind recalled that their very acquaintance had begun when she had sent him a come hither look. Her own father had disclosed that she had been infatuated with Lord Ashbourne. Miss Belton had told him that Evangeline was still in love with the notorious earl. What was more, only a few days ago she had ridden off with Fellowes in defiance of his wishes; she had never told him what had transpired during that ride. Had she permitted Fellowes to kiss her? He felt sick at the very thought.

  Chapter Twelve

  Lady Ashbourne was awoken from her afternoon sleep by a light touch on her lips. She opened her eyes to see her husband smiling down at her. ‘Are you rested, my love?’ he asked her. ‘I asked Polly to bring some tea.’

  They were very comfortably situated in the best room that The Old Hall Hotel in Buxton could provide. Her ladyship had drunk the waters that morning at her husband’s insistence, after which they had returned to their room so that they could have a light nuncheon and she could rest.

  She smiled, and allowed him to help her to sit up. ‘I am feeling much better,’ she replied, ‘but I will be glad when he – or she – decides to be born.’ She ran a hand over her stomach.

  Possessively, he took hold of her hand, raised it to his lips, then placed his own where hers had been. He looked into her eyes. ‘You cannot possibly imagine how much I love you,’ he said tenderly.

  ‘Even though I am fat, and plain, and my ankles are swollen?’ she said, half joking, half in earnest.

  ‘You are carrying my child; to me you are as desirable as you have ever been,’ he answered, bending to kiss her.

  The maid came in at this point and Ashbourne got up to allow her to set the tray. Jessie looked across the room at her husband. Tall, with broad shoulders, his dark hair was caught behind his head in a bow, the silver flashes at his temples giving him an air of distinction. As always, his clothes fitted him immaculately, from his dark-blue coat, to his snowy shirt, his dull gold brocade waistcoat and his buff breeches. ‘I feel slovenly next to you,’ she grumbled, after the maid had gone out again.

  He eyed her carefully. ‘You do look rather entrancingly blowsy,’ he said eventually, with a hint of a drawl.

  ‘In this condition?’

  ‘’Tis only your condition that prevents me from ravishing you,’ he responded, with an exaggerated leer.

  She laughed, placing a hand on her stomach once more. ‘Raff! You will shock him or her!’

  ‘You mean that, unlike my daughter-in-law, you have no idea of the sex of the baby?’ Lady Ilam had told everyone from very early in her pregnancy that her baby was a girl and, sure enough in due course of time, she had presented her delighted husband with a beautiful daughter.

  ‘I haven’t a clue,’ she freely admitted.

  He poured them both tea, then after he had given her her cup, he was silent for a long time, his gaze far away. ‘Are you thinking about Gabriel?’ she asked him eventually.

  ‘No,’ he answered after a pause. ‘Strangely enough, I was thinking about Michael.’

  ‘Do you want to seek him out?’ she asked. He had told her the story of his love for Dora Whitton, and of the child born of their love, a child he had never seen, although he had heard scraps of information about him over the years.

  ‘Part of me wants to; part of me is saying, leave well alone. After all, he’s managed for twenty-eight years without the dubious pleasure of my acquaintance. Don’t tell me he’d ever have become a priest if I had had any influence over him.’

  ‘All I wanted to say, Raff,’ said Jessie putting down her cup, ‘is that if
you wanted to find him, even to bring him home, I wouldn’t mind.’

  ‘You are a queen among wives, my dear Jez,’ answered Raff, putting down his own cup, and leaning across to kiss her once more.

  ‘Raff,’ she said coaxingly, allowing her fingers to play with his cuff. ‘Do you think that we might go home now? I have had quite enough of Buxton spa water, and I don’t want to risk not getting back for the birth.’

  ‘My darling, of course,’ he answered. ‘I’ll give instructions immediately. ’

  A few days after his first visit to Lady Agatha, Michael received a note summoning him to Halfpenny House, where her ladyship was waiting to receive him. ‘Ashbourne’s home,’ she said. ‘He brought Jessie back from Buxton yesterday.’

  ‘Jessie?’

  ‘His countess. She’s expecting a baby shortly and they both want it to be born at the abbey. I’m visiting them tomorrow and thought you might like to come with me.’

  ‘I should be glad to,’ Michael replied. ‘It’s very thoughtful of you to suggest it.’

  ‘Not at all, dear boy,’ Lady Agatha replied with a mischievous little smile. ‘I very much want to be present when you meet.’

  Not really understanding her sentiments but appreciating her suggestion, Michael returned home to find Theodora reading a note, which she folded and put away. ‘Miss Leicester has asked me to help her in the school tomorrow,’ she said. ‘Do you think I should go?’

  ‘I have been invited by Lady Agatha Rayner to go and meet Lord Ashbourne,’ he told her. ‘Would you not prefer to go with me?’

  Theodora looked very nervous. ‘Must I?’ she asked. ‘I would much prefer you to go on your own the first time. I will come with you on another occasion, perhaps after I have met him at church.’