by Barker, Ann
Without waiting to see how badly she might have injured him, she whisked herself out of the room. Gathering up her skirts, she ran along the passage intending to go to the stables, find a mount, any mount, and get away. She was in the yard, looking frantically about her, when the sound of hoofbeats alerted her to a new arrival and a moment later Ilam and Michael rode into the yard.
‘Michael, thank goodness,’ she exclaimed, holding a hand out towards him as he dismounted. ‘He was planning to abduct me and force me to marry him.’
Michael ignored her hand and simply said, ‘Did you go with him willingly? ’
‘No!’ she exclaimed. ‘Well, yes, but—’
‘Oh enough,’ he interrupted in a tone of angry cynicism. ‘Where is he?’
‘He is in the parlour. I’ve just thrown tea at him and cracked the teapot over his head. Michael, I wasn’t running away with him!’
‘Of course not,’ he answered in the same tone. He turned to Ilam. ‘Will you take her home? I’ll deal with Fellowes.’
‘Michael?’ Evangeline said again.
‘Later,’ he said firmly. ‘I’ll speak to you later.’ He strode into the inn.
‘Come along,’ said Ilam. ‘Let’s find a conveyance to take you home.’
‘But, Michael,’ Evangeline protested, looking towards the inn.
‘He’s got a lot on his mind,’ Ilam replied. ‘He’ll feel better when he’s dealt with Fellowes.’
The gig that the lieutenant had planned to use for Evangeline’s abduction was ready to go, and soon Ilam and Evangeline were on their way back home. ‘Miss Buckleigh told us that you were going shopping, but when your mother came in and clearly thought that you were in the village, we knew that something was amiss,’ Ilam explained, as soon as they were on the road.
‘Did she … tell you why I wanted to go to Sheffield?’ she asked him.
‘She told us that you were going to visit the bishop in order to speak for Michael,’ Ilam answered.
‘Did she tell you…?’
‘About your writing the complaint? She told me, but not when Michael was present. I thought it pretty spiteful, as a matter of fact.’
‘Well, so do I,’ Evangeline confessed frankly, ‘but I never intended to send it.’ She paused for a moment. ‘Oh dear, if only one could go back in time and put things right!’
‘I’m sure you’re not the first person to wish that,’ Gabriel replied, ‘and I doubt if you’ll be the last.’
When Michael opened the door of the parlour, Fellowes was just getting to his feet. The officer’s uniform was marred by a huge tea stain on the front, and a red mark on his chin where the hot liquid had caught him.
‘You’re a scoundrel and a coward,’ the curate said, ‘and a disgrace to the uniform you wear. Do you want to be knocked down here, or shall we go out to the inn yard?’
In response, Fellowes hurled himself at Michael, knocking him against the table. After that, a very clumsy fight ensued, during which each was working out the hostility that he felt for the other, hampered considerably by the furniture and the smallness of the room.
The soldier began the fight with a smirk on his face, but this soon disappeared as he began to realize that he was faced with a formidable opponent. Hearing the noise, the landlord put his head around the door, but soon withdrew it as he could see that to enter would be to put his person at some risk from the violence taking place within.
Eventually, Michael’s sheer size and weight prevailed, and he found himself standing over his fallen opponent, his fists clenched, while Lieutenant Fellowes mopped at a bloody nose. As the curate stared down at the other man, he suddenly realized what he had done and, going to the door and opening it, he called out for water, cloth and towel.
‘She’s not worth it, you know,’ the soldier said, from his prone position. Michael took a hasty step towards him, whereupon he added hastily, ‘Not when a man’s down, surely.’
‘I can always drag you to your feet,’ Michael responded through his teeth.
‘No doubt you can,’ Fellowes answered. He ran his tongue around his teeth, then said, ‘Thank God,’ when he discovered that they were all still firmly in place. ‘Before you go rushing back to her side, I think there’s something you ought to know about Miss Evangeline Granby.’
‘If you wanted to tell me that it was she who wrote a letter of complaint about me to the bishop, then I already know it,’ Michael answered, tight-lipped, determined that the other man should not see how hurt he was.
‘You surprise me,’ Fellowes drawled, his eyes narrowed. So Buckleigh thought that Evangeline wrote the letter, did he? Well he certainly wasn’t going to put him right. ‘Still, I’ll wager there’s something else you don’t know. Apparently, our Miss Granby enjoys a little game of making what conquests she can, then boasting about it to her friends.’
Michael took a step forward. ‘You’re a damned liar,’ he said. He was conscious of a hollow feeling in his chest.
‘It’s quite true,’ the soldier replied. ‘You ought to have a little fellow feeling. You and I are both victims. Those little chatterboxes Barclay and French let the cat out of the bag. You were just another trophy to her. So was I. She makes a habit of it. Ask them if you like.’ Judging that it was now safe to rise, Fellowes pulled himself to his feet, but remained prudently on the other side of the table. ‘She came with me willingly, you know, despite anything she might say. Did you see how becoming she looked? That was all for my benefit.’
Luckily, since Michael could not think how to answer him, the landlord himself came in with a jug of water and a basin, a towel over his arm.
‘Did the gentleman who accompanied me leave the horses behind when he left with the young lady?’ Michael asked him.
‘Yes, sir,’ said the landlord, looking rather warily at Michael, who was clearly the victor in the skirmish that had just taken place. ‘He took her in the gig that this gentleman hired.’
‘Then I’ll take one and go. You,’ he went on, turning to Fellowes, ‘may take the other back to Lord Ilam’s stables. If I were you, I would try to avoid meeting him. Then, if you’re wise, you’ll discover a pressing need to rejoin your regiment. I don’t expect to see you again.’
Michael was walking past the landlord when that worthy, struck by a sudden thought, said, ‘One moment sir; would you be a clergyman?’
‘Yes, I am,’ Michael replied, straightening his cuffs, and wondering how battered his face might be. The landlord looked at Michael’s stock, looked at Fellowes with his rapidly reddening jaw, and looked back at Michael again. ‘Never knew a clergyman could throw a punch like that,’ he said admiringly. ‘I’m not a religious man, but I’d try a church that you was parson of, any day.’
‘My thanks,’ Michael replied, ‘and my apologies for the state of the room. I will see that you are reimbursed.’
Chapter Twenty
Evangeline was dreading facing Theodora when she arrived home. Not only had she failed in her objective of speaking to the bishop, but she had also placed Michael in a situation where he was almost bound to fight Lieutenant Fellowes. She had no idea how such a fight might turn out, but she knew that Fellowes was a soldier and he had revealed himself to be a man with no scruples. What if he were to draw a sword or a knife upon Michael, who would almost certainly be unarmed? She could hardly bear to think about it.
To her great relief, she discovered that Mrs Granby had taken Theodora on a visit to the home farm, so she was spared any questions from either lady, at least for the time being. She took up her post in one of the rooms that faced on to the drive and, in due course, her patience was rewarded when Michael appeared on horseback. She had not realized how relieved she would be to see him unharmed. Now, she knew that she had been feeling almost sick with fear for his safety.
Not wanting to look as though she had been watching out for him, she slipped out into the hall, telling the butler that should anyone call, she would be in the yellow drawing room. Michael
was admitted a few minutes later. She could tell immediately from his appearance that he must have been involved in some kind of altercation: his lower lip was split, there was a mark on one cheek that might turn into a bruise; and his knuckles were badly grazed. His clothing was not torn, but looked a little more rumpled than was customary with him.
She rose hastily to her feet. ‘You are all right!’ She exclaimed. ‘Thank God!’ She began to hasten to his side, but he held up his hand.
‘Please, remain where you are,’ he said. ‘I merely came to tell you that Lieutenant Fellowes has been dealt with. I must also thank you for your care of Theodora and assure you that she will be out of your way as soon as possible.’
‘But we have been glad to have her. There is no rush,’ Evangeline insisted.
‘Even so, I would be glad to have her away from here.’
Evangeline flushed with mortification. ‘I suppose I may guess why,’ she said. ‘Michael, I am so sorry.’
‘For what?’ he asked. ‘For writing to the bishop, or for boasting to your friends that you would be able to add me to your list of conquests?’
‘Michael, I—’
‘I suppose I should not be surprised that you wrote a letter of complaint,’ he went on, interrupting her. ‘After all, you threatened to do so more than once. Perhaps your purpose in going to Sheffield really was to make another complaint in person.’
‘No, no!’ she exclaimed, horrified. ‘I never meant to send it. It was a mistake.’
‘But you did write it.’
‘Yes I wrote it, but only after you made me so angry that I could not think straight. I knew immediately that I would not send it.’
‘Yet you did send it.’
‘No! Well, yes, but …’
‘Even so, it has had the same result, has it not?’
‘But I didn’t mean it, I tell you. I was going to Sheffield to tell the bishop so.’
‘All dressed in your best?’ he said nastily. ‘Are you sure that you weren’t simply planning another little tryst in another inn with yet another man?’
‘No!’ she declared, horrified. ‘No, I wasn’t.’
‘How can I believe anything you say?’ he demanded. ‘You give everyone a different story. You tell your mother that you are visiting the new baby; you tell Amelia that you are going shopping; you tell Fellowes that you are going to complain; you tell Theodora that you are going to plead my case. How am I to discern the truth amongst this pack of lies?’ He paused. She said nothing but stood looking at him, biting her lip, her complexion pale. ‘It doesn’t much matter now, anyway. The bishop will have me removed and probably unfrocked. Then I will be gone. No more curate to interfere in your pleasures, eh? You must be delighted.’
‘I’m not anything of the sort. Wait, though.’ She went on, struck by a sudden idea. ‘You are Ashbourne’s son and Ilam’s brother. The bishop would never unfrock you now!’
He stared at her incredulously. ‘You amaze me,’ he said, smiling humourlessly. ‘You are so spoiled, so used to having your own way that you think that everyone can simply go whining to their rich relatives and have everything put right. Well, it isn’t going to happen that way. I cannot and will not go crawling to my mother’s lover in order to correct your wrong-doing. You’ll just have to live with it.’
‘Michael!’ she cried, as he walked to the door. ‘Michael, I … I love you.’
He turned to look at her. ‘I don’t think so. You’re too spoiled to understand the meaning of the word. The only one you really love is yourself. Dry your tears. Just think, you have the memory of your conquest to sustain you.’ She stood staring at the door after he had gone, until, suddenly struck by what she had lost, she ran out of the room and up the stairs, not slowing down until she reached her own bedchamber. Once there, she threw herself face down upon her bed and cried and cried until she felt exhausted.
Much later, hearing the sound of an arrival, she got up and walked to the window to discover that her mother had returned with Theodora. She was very tempted to close the curtains and pretend to be asleep, but she knew that Theodora would be anxious about her brother. She owed her some kind of explanation.
She looked down at the cupboard in front of her, and picked up the copy of A Vindication of the Rights of Woman. Then, with an expression of annoyance, she threw it across the room. ‘Stupid, stupid book,’ she declared. ‘Advise me how to get out of this mess if you can!’ As it fell to the floor, something came out from between its pages. Evangeline crossed the room to pick it up. It was her letter to the bishop: it had not been sent after all.
She drew a deep breath. Part of her wanted to rush after Michael and show it to him. But he had gone away in anger; even if she had not sent it, it was true that she had written it, and he still thought that she was a liar. She then recalled his other accusation, namely, that she had boasted of being able to bring him to his knees. Where had he got that from? She remembered a silly boast that she had made to Miss French and Miss Barclay when she was infatuated with Ashbourne over two years ago, about being able to ensnare any man that she wanted. She never thought that that piece of foolishness would come back to harm her. She had got herself into a dreadful mess. Whatever could she do now to put it right?
As predicted, Theodora soon came to her room to find out what had happened. Evangeline had intended just to tell Theodora the bare facts of the case, but she was still too overwrought to dissemble. Soon she found herself spilling out the whole tale and shedding a few more tears on Theodora’s shoulder.
‘Michael will come round, I’m sure,’ said the curate’s sister. ‘He has the sunniest and most forgiving nature of anyone I know. But, Evangeline, has it occurred to you that someone else must have written a letter of complaint if the bishop was not referring to yours?’ Evangeline had shown Theodora the lost letter.
‘I had not thought about that,’ Evangeline confessed. ‘I wonder who it might be?’
‘Do you suppose that it was Lieutenant Fellowes himself?’ Theodora suggested. ‘He certainly does not like Michael.’
‘He did not speak as though he had written it,’ Evangeline replied, ‘although he certainly knew about it. I wonder whether it might be one of the Beltons?’
She sighed. So much seemed to have gone wrong between herself and Michael. It was hard to know how it could all be put right. If only she could do something about the complaint. If she could counteract its effects, Michael might begin to see how highly she thought of him. After a lot of thought, she came to a decision. Following a brief conversation with her mother, she called for Elsie to help her into her riding habit.
Almost the last thing that Michael wanted to do was to return to Illingham, but he knew that there was no alternative. All his possessions were scattered between Illingham Hall and his cottage. He could hardly ride off into the sunset on someone else’s horse in just the clothes he stood up in. ‘What a mess,’ he whispered to himself, as he rode along, letting the horse pick its own pace. ‘What a damnable mess.’ The only thing that could make the day worse in his opinion was if he were to encounter Lieutenant Fellowes on his way to the Hall. Thankfully this did not happen.
Having stabled the horse, he entered Illingham Hall from the back entrance and trudged wearily up the stairs, to be met at the top of the flight by Lord Ilam’s valet. ‘Allow me to assist you, sir,’ he said. ‘Your bath is being prepared and should be ready by the time I have helped you with your clothes.’
‘My bath?’ Michael echoed.
‘His lordship gave instructions for one to be filled as soon as you entered the stable yard,’ was the reply. ‘He said that you would be glad of one after your exertions.’
Michael grunted in response. He could not find the words to say. Ilam is a better man than I am, he thought to himself. Perhaps he should have been the priest after all.
To his surprise, after a soak in the bath he did begin to feel a little better, particularly when the valet brought him a glass of wine to enjo
y as he was getting dried. Looking at himself in the mirror, he did not find his appearance to be as bad as he had expected. His swollen lip had gone down already and some soothing ointment on the cut also helped considerably. Once he was dressed, the valet invited him to go downstairs to the small parlour at the back of the house, where bread, cold meat and cheese had been placed on a table.
‘I was wondering why I felt so devilish hollow, then realized that somewhere or other we managed to miss a meal today,’ said Gabriel, who was waiting by the fireplace with one foot on the fender. The afternoon had turned rather cool and a fire had been lit.
‘Have you eaten?’ Michael asked him.
‘No, I waited for you.’
For a short time, the two men addressed themselves to the food in silence. Then eventually Michael said, ‘I must thank you for the bath. It has helped me to feel human again.’
‘No doubt,’ Gabriel agreed. ‘I do hope you have noted my astonishing ability to refrain from questioning you about what happened after I had gone, by the way.’
‘You’ve a right to know,’ said Michael, laying down his fork. ‘I told Fellowes that he was a disgrace to his uniform and then proved that I was a disgrace to the cloth by hitting him several times. When I had hit him sufficiently to make him stay down, he gave me a body blow by telling me that Evangeline had written the letter of complaint. So then I went to see her, we had words and, well, suffice it to say that if there was anything between us, it’s all over.’
‘Indeed?’
‘Gabriel, she admitted to writing the letter. I have to confess that I had been hoping against hope that somehow there had been some extraordinary misunderstanding; but it’s true. What’s more, she actually boasted to some of her friends that she could make me one of her conquests. That’s the only reason she showed any interest in me at all. How could I dream of loving someone who could go against me in such an underhand and spiteful way?’ He paused. ‘The only trouble is, I do still love her, fool that I am. Well, you’ll be pleased to hear that I have thought of a solution to my problems.’