“I’m - with child, miss.” Lydia swallowed, the blood rushing to her face. Then it was worse than she imagined. “But - I couldn’t ’elp it. I told Mr Caleb I couldn’t.”
Lydia blazed inside, not only from the shock of it but because of his brazenness in putting the girl through telling her. And because of the feelings she knew she had for him! Yet, she had to say something to comfort the girl.
“I believe you, Sally. Mr Vyne is a powerful master,” she answered slowly. Sally was staring at her. “You couldn’t resist him.” Of that, Lydia was sure.
“Not Mr Vyne, ma’am. He ain’t the father! ’Twas that devil, Charlie, who did it to me.” She bent, hugging herself with her thin arms. She looked at Lydia from anguished eyes.
“Mr Sheridan?” Lydia’s head was reeling.
“Aye, miss. Him. He’s a bad ’un, miss. A right bad ’un. He took me, miss, in the stable and --”
“Oh, Sally, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Suddenly, Lydia was kneeling on the bare floor, holding the shivering salter in her arms. While she listened to the terrible explanation punctuated by the drip of the girl’s tears she was hating herself for the joy she was feeling deep inside that it was not Caleb Vyne’s baby the girl was carrying.
When Sally explained what Mr Vyne had done for all of them, Lydia listened mutely. How had she misjudged him! What wrong she had placed at his door! How could she ever face him again? And Sally, she must help Sally!
“So he got you the job at Annesley Works?” The girl nodded. Lydia was thinking he must have been to see Elizabeth and probably pleaded with her. What had he said when he visited? That the room had never looked lovelier. Perhaps her aunt had entertained him on account of those feelings for his father, which Lord Tulham had intimated. And my lord had a good opinion of Caleb too.
“I’m glad, Sally,” cried Lydia. “Glad you have told me the truth. And I’ll protect you too. No more slaving over the salt pans.”
“Then you won’t be giving me nor Sam the sack?”
“Never. You’ll work for Annesley as long as it thrives.” Those very words put her in mind of her own predicament. Would there be an Annesley to support the Shrikes? There had to be! Suddenly, it seemed a certainty. And, now, she could seek Caleb’s help with a happy heart.
Lydia breathed in deeply, letting some of the burden she’d been carrying these last long weeks slip from her shoulders. Patting Sally on the shoulder, she rose from her knees and, taking out her fine handkerchief, blew the coal dust from out of her nose.
“I will keep all you have told me secret,” she said, “but I’ll allow no man nor woman to be cruel to you. None of this has been your fault. Remember.”
Her heart was full of anger towards Charles Sheridan. So many things were clearer now. She remembered his bold attentions in the park and was wondering what might have happened to her had Caleb Vyne not interposed.
She understood now that Sam Shrike had been defending his sister’s honour outside The Talbot and was sure she would have done the same as Caleb Vyne about the blackguard’s behaviour!
“Thank you, miss,” said Sally Shrike, “and you’ll not think bad of Mr Caleb no more.”
“No more,” repeated Lydia, “I promise. And, together, we may work something out when the baby comes.”
“God bless you, miss,” cried Sally. She was dreading the day his bastard would come into the world but, at least, she wouldn’t lose her job for it...
Lydia felt a different girl from the one she had been when she’d woken that morning. Not because her business problems had been eased, but on account of her heart.
Looking at her watch gave her a shock. It was getting very late and, probably, her aunt would have been asking for her. She stood up.
“I must go now, Sally. My aunt will be asking for me.”
“God bless you, miss, for comin’ here! Safe journey!” The two girls shook hands outside the cottage, then Sally went round and fetched Sophie.
Lydia, her head full of what she’d heard, trotted away quickly from the Shrikes’ cottage with the forlorn figure of Sally watching her from the doorway.
CHAPTER 9
Charlie couldn’t believe his luck. An afternoon’s badgering had brought about not only the sight of his quarry but a fairer one as well. He had had to lose one, so he’d decided on the badger. The two small terriers beside him had whimpered as he’d sent them home after the grunting beast disappeared down into his set...And, afterwards, he had caught sight of Miss Annesley in close conversation with Caleb.
He’d made sure to keep the couple full in sight. It had been a long conversation and, from Charlie’s vantage point in the spinney, he’d sensed their meeting had not gone well.
Therefore, he’d followed the heiress with a growing sense of foreboding. First, his damned brother and then, waiting an endless time to see her emerge with that trollop, Sally Shrike.
How much did the lovely Miss Annesley know? Was it conceivable Caleb and Sally had told her of his misdemeanours? Charlie had to find out...
*
Passing the coal yard was even more eerie; all the workers had gone and the gates were barred. Lydia spurred Sophie on but, as she rode, she was sure she could hear another horse behind her, its hooves drumming along the canal towpath.
She was right. Soon the rider was drawing level. She caught her breath sharply as she recognised him. It was the man she wanted to meet least in the world. Charlie Sheridan!
He was wearing no hat and his curly fair hair was streaming brightly in the half-dusk, unconstrained by any ribbon. She looked at him coldly, hoping that her manner would not betray the unladylike thoughts her mind was entertaining. And the rogue was smiling in a most enchanting manner.
Lydia reined in as his knee, covered in elegant riding breeches, was almost pressing hers. If she had not been the wiser, she would hardly have believed Mr Sheridan could hurt anyone. He had such an easy look and wonderful manner; was so young and utterly charming! Yet, those looks hid the darkest of secrets! And he had hurt too many. Little wonder his brother had ignored the slight against him and stood idly by.
Suddenly, she felt quite sick over the matter of Mr Sheridan and Sally Shrike! She’d hoped never to meet him again! Caleb Vyne’s sombre face and warnings arose in her mind. She had to be careful. His half-brother’s riding boot was still brushing her habit! She was suddenly afraid.
“Miss Annesley, how marvellous!” His blue eyes glinted. “But what are you doing in this place?”
“I could ask you the same,” she said. The words slipped out and Lydia was angry with herself. He was regarding her very strangely. She added quickly:
“I’m on my way home. I had occasion to ride out of Upwych on business and, as I had not taken this route before, I was interested in seeing more of its environs.”
“Business, Miss Annesley? On the Stretton side?”
“Indeed not, Mr Sheridan. I was checking how the work was faring on my brine pipes.” Their conversation was stilted owing to the fact Lydia had no desire to give away her real reason for riding on the western side of the town. For a moment, his sardonic expression gave rise to the thought he might not believe her.
Suddenly, it was of the utmost importance that he did. She attempted to change the subject but, all the time, she was full of loathing that his honest looks could hide such foul deception.
She glanced at him briefly but did not hold his gaze.
“I believe your bruises are healing, Mr Sheridan.”
“Indeed they are, ma’am. And I have no wish to obtain more!” She felt forced to smile at the feeble joke yet she was desperate to twitch Sophie’s reins and gallop off. But she had to keep up the pretence of civility at least.
They continued to make polite conversation but Lydia sensed that something was not right in his manner.
“You have no need to accompany me on my ride, Mr Sheridan. I am quite content to be alone.” His blue eyes narrowed.
“On the contrary, I feel bo
und to do so. Who knows what rough man you may meet on the two miles to Upwych?” There was no smile on his face, only a cool callousness and Lydia was thinking that under the fashionable jacket and breeches he was one of the roughest of all!
“You study me, Miss Annesley?” His eyes were even keener.
“No - I’m sorry. I was thinking of my Aunt Elizabeth. She will be worried about me. And you, sir? Should you not be at home taking your dinner?” He laughed:
“They will not miss me, ma’am.”
“Perhaps Mr Vyne will come seeking you?” Lydia said. It was then she realised what a faux pas she had made. She hoped he would not take it amiss and, if he did, at least it would shorten their conversation and rid her of him.
“Mr Vyne and I have little in common. I think you understand that by now, Miss Annesley. He does not care if I eat in the house or not.”
“My mother has some preference for him,” he added, “while I have the ear of my father and grandfather. On the whole, this is to be expected as Caleb has a hasty temper and some reputation for violence.” This was not what Lydia was prepared to hear.
“Please, Mr Sheridan, I beg some delicacy in this matter. I don’t think it’s proper for you to favour me with a list of Mr Vyne’s vices!” She was about to turn Sophie’s head, but Charles Sheridan had a restraining hand on her bridle.
“You’re forthright for a young lady, Miss Annesley, and I don’t blame you for not wanting to know the truth about Caleb.”
“I’m all for truth, sir, but no lies!” Suddenly, Lydia wondered what foul charges he would lay on Caleb. He was quite monstrous.
Charles now looked more honest than ever. The blue eyes were almost sombre in their frankness. He would have been a master of the play had this been the theatre.
What followed then was ludicrous. He laid his hand on her sleeve:
“I must advise you to have nothing to do with Mr Vyne. He can be exceedingly dangerous.”
“Surely you go too far, Mr Sheridan? How dangerous?” She knew she didn’t want to hear anything else. “I’ve no inclination to become involved with your quarrels with Mr Vyne! Please be kind enough to mention it no more. And I must go!” She attempted to move her mare but he was still holding Sophie’s rein.
“Have I offended you with my plain speaking? It’s only for your good, Miss Lydia. I wouldn’t wish you to think Caleb Vyne is more of a man than he is.”
“Please let me go, Mr Sheridan!”
“Caleb likes to coerce. He has a notion I should always do as he bids me. He is arrogant and domineering. Because I’m the younger, he attempts to guide me in everything. But that isn’t to my taste.
“Caleb has set himself against me,” Charlie Sheridan added and his voice was ugly, “and will not rest until I agree to every whim. He has crossed me in a matter of which I could never speak to a lady --” Lydia was becoming extremely anxious at his mood and tone. The matter was very much on her mind!
“No more, please, Mr Sheridan. Your enmity is obvious. I am glad I have no brother to cross me so. Let me go, please.” She was pulling at Sophie and he was still holding on. “My groom will be wondering where I am.”
“Although you have no brother, Miss Lydia,” he said, smiling, “you will not lack protection from the master of Raven’s Mill.”
“The master? Of whom do you speak?”
“Why, myself, of course. I shall be master soon. And, then --?” Lydia was thinking of Caleb’s warnings. This wild young man was behaving both rashly and indiscreetly. And she was at its mercy. He pointed his whip in the direction of Raven’s Mill.
“Yes, I will be master,” he added, “for Mr Vyne is out of favour. I have to bear all his slights. He has caused me much pain and, Miss Lydia, I have often feared for my safety. He has set himself up against me. Against all of us.” She was feeling quite shaky as she saw his strong gloved hand reaching out. He continued, in a voice like silk:
“How could you? You are new to this game. But, however painful this is, I urge you to listen. We Strettons are powerful. We have salt by the bushel and Annesley is weakening --”
“Let me go, Mr Sheridan. I warn you I won’t listen to this!” Her loyalty to Annesley and her aunt was in her mind, but now she was truly afraid of him.
“United, we would be unassailable. Bound inextricably.” Lydia gasped. Charlie was piercing her with those cruel blue eyes and his other hand was on her knee! “If you favour me instead of him, we can outwit him together,” he breathed.
“Let me go,” cried Lydia, bringing up her whip. “This is monstrous. How dare you speak to me so?” Her violence so surprised him that he dropped his hand and, seeing her chance, she wheeled the surprised Sophie’s head away from the towpath and back towards the safety of the road.
But he was following fast. She could hear the thud of his horse’s hooves as he drew level.
“You should hear me out, Miss Annesley. For your own sake!” She slashed out with her whip. He shouted, “You have seen Caleb, haven’t you? What lies has he told you about me?”
Both were galloping now, neck and neck as the shadows lengthened. The wind cut into Lydia’s face and tore off her hat. Her hair was streaming behind her as she battled to reach the road.
Lydia’s whole self was centred on escape. Never, never again would she ride alone! How stupid she had been! It was then she prayed that Caleb would appear as he’d always done before. But, this time, Mr Vyne was not to be her saviour.
Lydia’s breath was tearing out of her chest in painful gasps as the ground flew past her like a glassy sheet. Charles Sheridan was pressing so close to her that all she could do was dodge and bend in agonised fear.
She could see the way off the path to the road and knew if she could make it she might be safe from him. But there several trees overhanging and she was afraid she would hit one of their branches.
If she did, she would most surely break her neck! And her pursuer must be aware of that too. Perhaps that was his purpose? She tried to keep her head, prayed that sense and luck would prevail, but stout little Sophie was foaming at the mouth as the bit began slipping.
“Help, help, help!” Lydia sobbed to herself, glancing aside at the determined face of Charlie Sheridan. She paid for that tiny lack of concentration. Nearly upon the trees, Sheridan’s horse swerved causing Sophie to lurch madly sideways throwing her rider wide and clear...
Lydia felt herself falling, remembered only the dark sky streaked with the glint of evening, the cold air and the painful thud as she hit the ground - then nothing but black...
She didn’t know where she was nor where she’d been. Her head and ears felt like a dark drum, all sounds muffled and strange. But, as she opened her eyes painfully, she thought it was a nightmare; she was looking into the flushed and sweating features of Charlie Sheridan. Where was she? What was he doing to her?
She struggled to get up, then fell back with a cry of pain.
“Be still, Miss Annesley,” he breathed hoarsely, “You fell from the mare! Remember?” She could hear the words but hardly make sense of them. Fell? Then, suddenly, the whole terrible incident came rushing back through her half-numb mind.
She began to shake uncontrollably, her body racked with sobs. She tried to move again, knowing the man, who was leaning over her, was the person she most despised, from whom she’d been escaping. It was a nightmare. Was there no one to help her?
To her horror, he began stroking the hair off her brow, feeling all over her body.
“No bones broken.” He was muttering as his despicable hands probed at her habit.
“Let me go, Mr Sheridan,” she pleaded. “If you have any pity, leave me be.”
“I’m seeing if you’re hurt,” he said as she lay mute beneath his attentions. She tried to push him off but didn’t have the strength. He was looking about him as if someone was coming, but no one came!
“No bones broken,” he repeated. She put up her hand to ward him off and, to her horror, he took it prisoner i
n his and kissed her fingers!
“Leave me alone!” She shuddered and her head was reeling.
“Be careful,” he said, “I am the only one who can help you!” She was pushing him away but he put down his head and nuzzled her neck. The bile was rising in her throat. Was this what he did to Sally Shrike?
“Stop, stop,” she shouted with all the strength she could muster. “Leave me alone. I must get up.”
“That’s right,” he said, lifting his head and looking her straight in the eyes. “You can’t lie here.” He was pulling her habit straight where he had disarranged it. Could he be reasoned with?
“You would not -- Mr Sheridan -- harm me while I am so much at a disadvantage,” she said shakily.
He didn’t answer. Instead, he got up off his knees and pulled her half-fainting body towards him. Next moment, she felt him supporting her weight.
The effort of walking made her light-headed. Then her knees buckling beneath her, Lydia pitched forward into a fainting darkness, which quickly gave way to brief flashes of reality accompanied by the hot taste of some spirit forced into her mouth...
*
The sudden disappearance of Miss Lydia Annesley was the subject of so much speculation and gossip that the town of Upwych could hardly contain it.
Local aristocracy and salters alike scanned the pages of The Journal in the hope of gleaning the tiniest amount of information. The editor’s personal column proclaimed the missing heiress as already given up for dead, a fact which, on the advice of her doctor, the servants carefully hid from Miss Elizabeth.
Everyone in Upwych, from her neighbours to her workers, were afraid of what would happen to the ailing mistress of Annesley when she learned of Miss Liddy’s fate.
Everyone realised that this shocking happening coming hard on top of her other illness was likely to be fatal but, on the other hand, Upwych knew Elizabeth had the Annesley spirit and had been heard to declare in exhausted and anguished tones that if Liddy had been harmed, Miss Elizabeth would see her attacker punished richly for his crime even if it was the death of her!
The Price of Beauty Page 14