Francesca Shaw - The Unconventional Miss Dane

by The Unconventional Miss Dane (lit)

  Disaplaointed, for by now she was quite excited at. the prospect of exploring, she was turning away when she sawa key ranging on a hook on a beam in the porch; It was t~l with rust and obviously not, judging by its size, the key to this door. Antonia turned it in her hand, staining her fingers with the rust. It. could be the front-door-key: it was worth trying. Gathering up her skirts, she took the drive that led round the side to the front of the house, facing across overgrown lawns to the main genes

  Am~mia could still remember ~he only occasion she had ~ the house. She had been with her. mother and they had driven in the carriage ~he short distance down the lanes from the Hall; the strange old house and the crabby old lady in her old-fashioned clothes were a vivid memory, even twenty years on.

  Not expecting it to work, Antonia tried the key in the front-door lock.

  It grated and resisted, then suddenly turned with a loud click and the panelled oak swung open.

  The hall beyond was dark and gloomy with shadowed recesses and the black gaping holes of opened doors. Antonia hesitated, unwelcome memories of every Gothick tale she had ever read welling up in her mind. She stood, one hand on the door frame, her toes safely on the out sidle of the threshold, poised to run at the first ominous creak.

  Then the ridiculousness of her position struck her: a grown woman frightened to enter her own property in broad daylight! What would she say to Donna--that she was too afraid to: look for the furniture they so badly needed? Boldly Antonia stepped into the hall--but left the door wide open behind her.

  As she moved from room to room, her skirts raised puffs of dust. But, to her amazement, everything was completely dry: there were no damp stains or musty smells, only dirt, dust and airlessness shroud~ the contents of the house, left just as they had been when Cousin Anne had died nine years before. Relations between Sir Humphrey and . h~s querulous relative had been so poor 'her father must have ordered the place shut up and had never a'oubled him self to investigate further.

  The . a0cient brick ~and oak had stood the test of time and the elements in a way more recent buildings had not. Quite at her ease now, for the old house had a homely, safe feeling to it, Antonia roamed from room to room, lifting dust sheets, peering at hangings in the gloom, running her fingers along the dark wood of the sturdy old furniture. The stairs were wide and shallow and led her up to a gallery and a suite of bedrooms.

  Antonia was just inside the door of what must have been Cousin Anne's chamber when she heard the floorboards creaking in the hall below. Her hand flew to her throat and she froze, all the tales of ghosts alive'again in her mind. Panic gripped her and with it a blind urge to get out into the sunlight. Whoever---or whatever it was-had reached the foot of the stairs; she could hear the boards groaning.

  There must be back stairs. Antonia picked up her skins and flew down the landing on tip-toe, down a~ passageway, through a doorway and found herself at the head of a flight of narrow, winding stairs. She stumbled down, the very act of running feeding her panic, round a dark bend and crashed into something large, solid and alive.

  "Got you!" Strong hands seized her roughly by the shoulders and shook her. Muffled against. woollen cloth, Antonia turned her head frantically and screamed. She could see nothing in the gloom. The man holding her was clenching her upper arms in a vice-like grip that brought tears to her eyes. and-her heart was leaping in her chest till she felt quite sick.

  There was no one within, earshot to come to her aid: Antonia held back her screams and saved her breath for struggling. She began to kick ~with a vengeance, stubbing her toes against unyielding leather boots.

  Suddenly released, Antonia stumbled hack against the wall, but before she could open her mouth the man seized her by the wrist and dragged her down the last few stairs into the kitchen.

  "Come on, wench, let me have a look at you in the light ... out to see what you could steal, were you?" The light from the casements fell on Antonia's dust-stained face and her captor released her with an oath.

  "Hell" s teeth! You again! "

  Shaking and furious, Antonia glared into the hard face of Marcus Arlington. She found her voice. "How dare you assault me in my own house!" But although she was angry, she was also shaking with relief that it was he.

  "I thought you were a housebreaker--the front door was wide open, I could hear somebody moving about upstairs." He glared back. "What do you expect me to do? Pass by and let the place be ransacked?"

  Antonia's knees sagged and she let the kitchen table take her weight as she rubbed her stinging wrists. "I thought you ... I thought you..."

  "You thought I was the vagrant, someone who was going to attack you?"

  He took a step forward, seeing how white her face was under the dust, noticing a cobweb caught up in her dark curls, seeing with a pang of guilt a bruise forming on her wrist where his unyielding grip had held her fast.

  "No..." Her voice quavered, then broke. "I thought you were a headless ghoul!"

  "A ghoul! Really, Miss Dane!" Marcus began to smile then, seeing her tears, soRened. "Antonia ... I am sorry, come here." Antonia found herself pulled gently against his broad chest and held. The ridiculous tears of fright kept welling up and she gave in to them, sobbing in earnest as he stroked her hair and-quietly murmured reassurance. It had been so long since anyone had held her, offered her the comfort of their arms. Miss Donaldson's brisk sympathy and sensible friendship were not the same.

  The tears dried in a few minutes, but Antonia stayed in the shelter of Marcus's arms, her ~heek nestled against his waistcoat, his heart beating steadily under her ear. Indeed, he seemed quite content to hold her and stroke her hair as though gentling a startled foal.

  Antonia stirred against him as a realisation of the situation overcame her instinctive need to be held. As though her movement had triggered something in him, his hand stopped stroking and moved to caress her nape and the hand holding her against him came up to tip up her face.

  "Lord Arlington..."

  "You look adorable with cobwebs in your hair, like a kitten that has been exploring." His voice was husky and amused.

  "I d-do not t-think this is..." Antonia knew she was stammering, knew this was neither wise nor proper, but she had no will to break free from his encircling arms.

  "Then do not think at all," he murmured softly, his mouth coming down on hers with infinite gentleness. She clung to him as his mouth moved insinuatingly on hers, drawing her deeper into the kiss. Dizzily Antonia clung to him, drowning in unfamiliar sensation, overwhelmed by the feeling of security his strong arms gave her. From deep within her came a little moan of longing as she clung to him more fiercely.

  Marcus lifted his mouth from hers and looked down into her innocent eyes. "I think I had better take you home."

  "Home?" she quavered, suddenly overcome by a desire to be carried in his arms to Brightshill.

  "Yes, your companion will be wondering what has become of you," he said almost briskly, holding open the door for her to pass through. "Where is your horse?"

  His abrupt return to conventional manners underscored just how improper her behaviour had been. Antonia's face flamed. "I walked over. My lord ... you must disregard, I beg you, my behaviour just now. I was frightened, driven by relief after such a scare. Normally I would never. "I quite understand," he responded coolly. "You are not normally in fear of headless ghouls."

  They were now on the other side of the front door. Marcus twisted the key in the lock, then handed it to her, his fingers brushing hers momentarily as he did so. His horse was cropping the grass, its reins thrown over the branch ~f a tree.

  "I will walk back with you to Rye End Hall," he announced, taking the reins in his hand.

  She flushed again at the coolness in his voice, confused by the welter of emotions she was feeling. Yes, she supposed she had offended him by implying that the only reason she had returned his kiss was relief that he was not some vagabond, but he should never have kissed her in the first place! She had no intention of tr
ying to make amends---after all, it was the second occasion on which he had taken liberties with her.

  "It will not be necessary for you to accompany me, Lord Arlington," she said with equal coolness.

  "I think it is." He fell into step beside her. "Even if there are no ghouls, there may well be undesirables in the woods. With. no keepering on your lands, anyone could be roaming."

  Stung, Antonia snapped back, "Do not keep harping on my foolishness, my lord! Have you never read a Gothick tale and then, wondered at a creak in the night?"

  "No, I have no time for such nonsense."

  In the face of such a comprehensive snub, Antonia fell silent and they walked without speaking along the rutted lane until they reached the gates of the Hall.

  "Goodbye, Lord Arlington, thank you for your concern for my property," she said politely but dismissively, holding out her hand to him.

  He accepted neither her hand, nor his dismissal. "If you have recovered your composure, Miss Dane, there is something I wished to speak of to you."

  "Any loss of composure I may have suffered, my lord, is entirely attributable to you," Antonia said frostily, then realised what a double-edged remark that was.

  Marcus tsmiled thinly. "None the less, if you could spare me a moment of your time?"

  "Very well, Lord A!iington, we are still some minutes from the house."

  "I do wish you would call me Marcus. After all, we are near neighbours: if, that is, you are intending to stay here."

  Antonia raised her brows, "There is no question of my leaving, my lord... Marcus. This is my family home and I intend to stay here."

  Marcus allowed his eyes to stray over the ruins of the pleasure grounds where one deer could be seen nibbling delicately at the remains of a rose bush. "It must be a powerful attachment you feel that overcomes the many disadvantages of the situation," he remarked.

  "What disadvantages?" Antonia demanded hotly.

  "To find yourself without friends, in a property that is tumbling around your ears, set amid derelict lands which can be bringing you no income--forgive me for speaking frankly, but that appears to constitute not one but several disadvantages."

  "The house is not tumbling about my ears: there is merely a little damp; that can soon be rectified."

  Marcus nodded Sagely, "Then no doubt it is the damp that prevents you from furnishing Rye End Hall?"

  "And how would you know in what condition my furnishings are, sir?"

  Antonia demanded, her colour rising. ~It is difficult to keep secrets in the country. Let us be frank~ Miss Dane: financially, you are at a standstill. If you have any concern for your tenants, or indeed yourself, you must look to raise income. "

  "This is being frank, indeed!" Antonia stopped abruptly and faced him.

  "I believe, sir, you cross beyond frankness! What concern can you have with my private affairs?"

  Marcus's dark brown eyes looked at her measuringly. "I am, after all, a neighbour, but more than that, I am in a position to alleviate your situation."

  Antonia stared at him in wild surmise. Marcus Arlington, offering her marriage? Surely there was no other interpretation to put on his words, especially after that kiss just now.

  "M-Marcus," she stammered, 'this is so sudden! I scarcely k-know you.

  " She broke off at the look of astonishment dawning on his face. He had it under control in a second, but not before she realised the apalling error, she had fallen into. Burning with a humiliation she struggled to conceal, she blundered on, " That is to say, it is very kind of you to offer help to someone you scarcely know. "

  "Our families have been neighbours for centuries." He spoke smoothly, but she could see a trace of colour on his cheekbones. His attempts at tact were as humiliating to her as her original error had been. "Your father sold me some and several years ago: I would give you a fair price for the farmlands and the woods. It would leave you the pleasure grounds; with the house restored you would be able to sell it easily, perhaps to a London merchant Seeking a country retreat. There are many such these days."

  Humiliation turned to anger as his words sank in. So, Marcus Arlington had only kissed her, been so sympathetic, in order to gain her confidence as a prelude to snapping up her lands. His impression of her as an empty-headed female must have been compounded by her falling into his arms not once, but twice! To be arrested as a poacher, to be found in a twitter over ghosts and then to so misinterpret his intentions on the films lest of evidence~ he must think her so foolish she would accept his offer without hesitation or calculation.

  "The day will never come when I am prepared to sell so much as one yard of my land, my lord--to you or anyone else!" She gathered up her skirts and swept off turning as a further thought struck her. "And your protestations of neighbourly concern would ring more true, sir, if you conducted yourself as a gentleman and did not manhandle me at every opportunity!"

  He had swung up into the saddle; Her words obviously stung, for the horse tossed its head in protest as his hand tightened on the reins. "I am not in the habit of manhandling unwilling ladies, ma'am; I would suggest you look to your own behaviour before you criticise mine. I would hardly characterise you as unwilling just now."

  Before Antonia could do more than gasp at this attack, he had dug his heels into the horse's flank and cantered off down the track. She was still angry when she reentered the kitchen, now mercifully restored to its habitual order. Miss Donaldson was placidly brewing a pot of tea, the stock was simmering fragrantly on the range, mixing with the delicious odour of roasting pigeon, Mrs. Brown had gone and the cats were sleeping off an excess of rabbit in the scullery.

  "My dear, whatever is the matter?" Donna put down the. teapot at the sight of Antonia's flushed cheeks and furious expression.

  "That insufferable man!"

  "Which man?" Donna asked, not unreasonably. "Well, there is only one in the neighbourhood determined to interfere in my life at every turn--Marcus Arlington, of course!" She plumped down in a chair and began to fiddle irritably with a folded paper which lay on the table.

  "Lord Arlington? Why, what has he done to discommode you so, Antonia?

  Drink this tea and calm yourself." Donna pushed the cup of tea across and waited anxiously, her eyes fixed on her young friend's stormy countenance.

  Antonia took a deep breath. "I was in the Dower House, exploring; it was very dark and gloomy in there, and in truth, rather frightening. He saw the front door standing open and followed me in; I have never been so scared in my life! And then he ... then he ... I was agitated and naturally ... er ... clung to him. He~.." She found herself unable to say the words to finish the sentence.

  "Are you trying to tell me he kissed you?" Miss Donaldson seemed inclined to be amused rather than shocked, which only fuelled Antonia's annoyance.

  "Really, Donna, I am surprised at you! I would not have thought you would regard such unseemly behaviour so lightly."

  "Well, if you had cast yourself into his arms ... he is but a man, after all, my dear. And," she added, musingly, 'a most eligible one at that. "

  This was too palpable a hit. Antonia sank her head into her hands, much to Miss Donaldson's alarm. "Antonia, my dear! Are you telling me he offered you some insult?"

  "No! Oh,~Donna, I made such an abject fool of myself.

  I thought he was making a declaration of marriage, but he was only offering to buy the land! "

  "If he misled you in any way," her companion began hotly, 'he must do the honourable thing and. "

  Antonia cut across her. "No, no, it was entirely-my own stupidity, and I said nothing which could not be explained away,. But I know he knew what assumption I had made it is so humiliating."

  "But when you came in just now you seemed angry, not embarrassed. Did you quarrel?"

  "I told him I would never~ sell Rye End Hall lands to him."

  There was a short silence, then Miss gently, "I fear you may have to sell' some of them to someone; that paper under your hand is the bill of e
stimate from Mr. Watts the builder from Berkhamsted, who came last week. It seems there are more roof timbers to replace than we had realised and, of course, we had allowed for the cost of lead..." Her voice trailed off as Antonia spread open the paper.

  "It seems a reasonable and honest estimate," she said blankly when she had read it carefully, 'but quite beyond our means. " The two women stared at each other across the table, the tea cooling between them.

  The gloomy silence was broken by the arrival of young Jem, whistling cheerily. "Good day! Is there anything you'd like me to do, miss?

  Ma's sent the eggs you wanted, and Pa thought you might like a look at the Lunnon paper, it got left behind yesterday at the inn."

  59~

  Donna pulled herself together with a little shake, thanked Jem for the eggs and paper and hustled him outside to sweep all the paths around the house.