by Ann Barker
‘We are on the main road from Bourne to Lincoln,’ Lord Thurlby explained, ‘so it is not surprising that this place should seek to provide well for travellers.’
As well as the Greyhound, there were one or two lesser establishments, including a chocolate shop, which the ladies all said that they would like to visit later. When they reached the top of the street, the Lincoln road veered off to the right, but the coachman steered them round to the left and through another part of the village. Ahead of them lay the church, a fine building with a spire, and Mr Ames expressed a desire to look around it if there was time. Lavina was not surprised when Isobel endorsed this wish with enthusiasm.
It was as they descended a slight incline after passing the church that the castle came into sight. It was of grey stone, which could easily take on a gloomy look on a wet evening in November, but on this day, with the sun shining down and picking out the odd fragments of glass here and there, it fairly sparkled, seeming to share in the general merriment of the outing.
‘I do hope that we did not have to ask anyone’s permission in order to visit here,’ said Miss Wheatman. ‘I should hate to be arrested for trespass.’
‘As I am a magistrate, I should certainly find it embarrassing,’ Lord Thurlby agreed. ‘However, there is no need to be concerned. The ownership of the place has passed to a local landowner, who is happy for visitors to explore it, as long as they do no damage.’
The structure had looked to be quite a small one, but as they drew closer, they could see that it was much more extensive than they had thought at first. Surrounded by a moat which was now empty, it was more in the way of being a fortified house, rather than a castle of classic design. The barouche drew round to the front of the castle and set them down at the entrance, which could be approached by crossing a bridge which was set over the moat. From where they were standing, they could see through the open arch into a grassy courtyard.
‘This is delightful,’ said Isobel, looking about her as they strolled across the bridge. ‘I declare that I could happily spend the rest of the day exploring.’
Lord Thurlby consulted his pocket watch. ‘We have a little time before we need think about nuncheon,’ he said. ‘Shall we have a look around, and then reconvene inside the courtyard in, say, an hour?’
‘That sounds eminently sensible,’ answered Miss Wheatman. ‘I have with me a written account of how and why buildings such as this came to be constructed. Would anyone care to sit down with me whilst I read the account out loud?’
More than one person of the party was wondering how to say that this idea did not appeal to them without being rude. To everyone’s great relief, however, Lord Thurlby said, ‘Were you referring to those books that you handed to me? I laid them down on a table in the hall, but I fear that in all the excitement of departure, I failed to pick them up again. I do apologize.’
Miss Wheatman looked anxious. ‘Oh dear, oh dear,’ she said. ‘I am afraid that I have let you all down.’ The rest of the company attempted to look downcast.
‘No, indeed, the fault is Lord Thurlby’s,’ said Lavinia. ‘For shame, my lord!’ Nevertheless she was obliged to hide a smile. She was impressed with the way in which he had managed to sound regretful without telling an untruth.
Their eyes met briefly. The earl’s lips twitched almost imperceptibly. ‘I am justly reproved,’ he said. ‘What is to be done?’
‘The day is too fine to spend in reading, Aunt Daisy,’ said Miss Tasker gently. ‘We can enjoy such information on a day when it is raining. It will give us something to do, as well as providing a reminder of better days.’
‘Very true, my dear,’ answered Miss Wheatman. ‘I think I can probably remember a good deal of what was written, in any case.’
‘Then perhaps you will enlighten me,’ said Thurlby with real heroism, as he gestured towards part of the gateway through which they had just walked. ‘What is the purpose of those overhanging segments of brick, for example?’
Miss Wheatman proceeded to offer him a careful explanation, whilst the rest of the party split up. Lavinia would also have liked to learn more about the place, but Isobel tucked a hand in her arm, and began to chatter animatedly. Lavinia was a little surprised to see with what equanimity the other girl watched the vicar walk away with Miss Tasker on his arm. She could only assume that her friend was planning an assault upon the clergyman after nuncheon.
To the casual onlooker, Isobel, Lavinia, Mr Hawkfield and Mr Laver made a lively group, as Isobel and Hawkfield in particular discovered mutual acquaintances, and chattered about the London scene. It must be said that as Isobel dictated the pace, they did very little exploring of the ruins, owing to the dainty nature of her thin, kid slippers. By the time they all gathered together for nuncheon, the four young people had done little more than stroll around the grassy area in the centre of the keep.
No doubt her young companions of the morning would have thought that she was a trifle strange, but Lavinia had found it all a little dull so far. She had deliberately worn stout shoes, but she had hardly found them necessary. What was more, she would much rather have wandered around with Miss Wheatman and Lord Thurlby, and heard about the history of the place, than listened to gossip about a lot of people most of whom she had never met, and whom she was sure she would not have found particularly agreeable had she done so. However, it was much easier to allow Isobel to lead the conversation than to try to insert a new subject into their talk, particularly one that the other girl would not find congenial. Besides, she had a grave suspicion that any attempts to talk about the ruins would only result in her being condemned as a blue-stocking. She could but hope that she would have the chance to see more of the castle after nuncheon.
As she glanced around, she saw that preparations were being made for their meal. The servants had brought blankets which Miss Wheatman was spreading out in a shady place on the grass next to the castle walls. Lavinia hurried to help her. She looked up from straightening one of the corners to see that one of the menservants was bringing a box which, from the rattling sound emerging from it probably contained cutlery. To her great surprise, however, a huge, two-handled wicker basket was being carried by a footman at one side and the earl at the other. The men were exchanging the odd comment as they walked. Obviously this was not the first time that Thurlby had lent assistance in such a way.
He had taken off his coat in order to perform this task, and Lavinia’s eyes were particularly drawn to the way in which the light breeze moulded his shirt to his well-formed chest and biceps.
‘Yes, very impressive,’ Isobel whispered to Lavinia, causing her to blush bright red.
After everything was laid out on the grass, the earl put his coat back on with the footman’s assistance, then said to him, ‘Go and enjoy your own meal, now. I’ll call if I need anything.’
Lavinia watched the man’s retreating figure for a moment or two then said, ‘The staff are picnicking too?’
‘They have to eat,’ he replied easily. ‘As long as they look after the horses, I see no reason why they shouldn’t enjoy the day as well. We need no one to serve us here.’ He wondered what had happened to embarrass her a short time before, but noted how a touch of colour became her. Some country air was doing her good after her stay in London, he decided.
The meal was a cheerful affair. After the basket had been unpacked and Thurlby had poured the wine, they all sat down to enjoy bread, pickles, cold chicken, cheese, and a fruit cake. It was warm and sheltered in the courtyard, and after a glass or two of wine, Miss Wheatman looked ready for a nap.
‘I am happy to stay with you, Aunt,’ said Miss Tasker cheerfully. ‘Timothy has dragged me all over this castle already, and I would be glad to sit down for a while.’
‘Perhaps if you have shown Miss Tasker the main points of interest, you would like to show them to me, now,’ said Isobel prettily to Mr Ames. ‘We did not get round to exploring properly this morning.’
The vicar eyed her slippers doubt
fully. ‘Will you be able to manage in those?’ he asked her.
‘If I cannot, then you will just have to help me,’ she said, fluttering her eyelashes as she took his arm.
‘What do you say to exploring the moat, and seeing if we can find a weakness in the defences?’ said Hawkfield to Laver. The latter was quite amenable to this suggestion, and the two soon set off.
‘You are now left with very little alternative by way of an escort, I fear,’ Thurlby said to Lavinia. ‘Shall we walk, ma’am?’
‘With pleasure,’ she replied truthfully. If she was honest with herself, she would have had to admit that she wanted to see whether she would again experience the strange sensation of attraction that she had felt in Lord Thurlby’s company, or whether it had been something that she had imagined. Now, as she laid her hand upon his arm, she knew that it was real enough.
Determined not to betray some kind of interest that was almost certainly not returned, however, she said, ‘I am hoping that you will have benefited from Miss Wheatman’s instruction. What can you tell me about this place?’
In the meantime, Isobel was saying something very similar to Mr Ames. ‘There must be a chapel,’ she went on. ‘You must show me the chapel.’
‘Yes, there is indeed,’ he agreed. ‘It is this way.’
Perhaps because of reverence, or primitive superstition, those who had plundered the castle had left the chapel alone and it was one of the parts of the building that remained more-or-less intact. It had a fine, high ceiling, decorated with stone bosses, and a balcony which looked down onto the high altar.
‘This is splendid,’ said Isobel looking around her. ‘Now do not tell me that you would not like to be the vicar of a place like this. How romantic to live here!’ She twirled around, holding her arms, out, then stopped, and looked at him in a way that managed to seem both guilty and saucy at the same time. ‘Oh dear! I fear that I have been disrespectful. Pray forgive me, sir!’
‘Not at all,’ the vicar responded. ‘It is a lovely place, you are quite right.’
‘What tales must have been told here! What joy! What sadness! What stories of romance must have been lived out over the years!’
‘What coughs, colds and chilblains,’ he replied with a twinkle.
‘It is beautiful, I grant you; but I would not exchange the parson’s living quarters here for my cosy vicarage.’
‘Mr Ames, you are not romantic enough!’ Isobel declared.
‘It is a fault, I admit it.’
‘I shall have to teach you,’ she smiled. ‘Show me something else.’
‘I think I know what you would like to see,’ said Lord Thurlby to Lavinia. He pointed to the highest tower. ‘Would you like to ascend and take a look at the view? Miss Wheatman is not fond of heights, so we did not go up there this morning.’
‘I would like to do so very much,’ she replied. ‘Is it safe?’
‘Yes it is. The owner regularly checks the premises for structural soundness, as the castle attracts many visitors.’
They ascended the spiral staircase, Lavinia going first. It was a longer climb than was apparent at first, but when, as they reached the top breathless, they stepped out into the fresh air, they felt that all their efforts had been rewarded. The day was clear, and the view was splendid. Lord Thurlby knew the countryside well, and was able to point out what stood in each direction.
As he spoke with authority about the countryside which was spread out before them like a carpet, Lavinia made an interesting discovery. ‘You have been here before, have you not?’
‘Yes, I have,’ he agreed.
‘But you did not say so. Why ever not?’
‘I was afraid you’d laugh at me if I told you,’ he said ruefully.
‘I would never be so uncivil,’ she replied.
‘Would you not? Egad, I believe you. Very well, then. I came here with a party of friends some years ago. There was a young lady with whom I was besotted at the time. I was hoping to propose in this romantic setting.’
He fell silent. Eventually, Lavinia, who had been seized by a most unexpected stab of jealousy, said, ‘I assume that she … refused you.’
‘She didn’t get the opportunity,’ he replied. ‘Discovering her entwined with a neighbour’s son had the effect of banishing my ardour.’
She gasped. ‘I’m not surprised. How very shocking. Did you knock him down?’
‘I did not have the right. There was no understanding between us. Soon afterwards, they announced their engagement. He was several years older than me, you see. They are now living in a distant county. As I am sure you can imagine, this place did not hold very happy memories for me. I confess that I felt a certain reluctance at the prospect of coming here, but now I must be grateful for having had my hand forced. The ghosts seem to have gone.’
Lavinia smiled, and laid a hand on his arm. ‘I am glad,’ she said. ‘I hope that you will now have happier memories to replace them.’ Suddenly realizing that he might think that she was attempting to flirt with him, she snatched her hand away quickly and said, ‘But you have not told me about all the sights. What other landmarks can be seen from here?’
‘Over there, you can just make out Lincoln Cathedral,’ he replied, after a brief pause.
‘Where? Where?’ she asked, looking anywhere, but in the right direction.
‘There,’ he said, crouching a little, so that he could see from her point of view. He put one hand gently on her back, and leaned close to her, pointing again.
‘I see it,’ she said; but suddenly, the sight of Lincoln Cathedral was less significant than the way that he was making her feel. She looked at him, their eyes met, and her hand went to her throat.
Thurlby, too, was obviously affected in some way by their closeness, for he straightened, cleared his throat and put his hands behind his back. ‘Shall we go and have a look at the rest of the castle? Would you like to see the dungeons?’
He is embarrassed at being up here alone with me, she thought to herself. He wants to go back down to the courtyard and join the rest of the party, so that a group of us may go to the dungeons together. ‘Yes … yes, of course,’ she said, anxious that he should not suspect the truth, which was that she had suddenly realized how very much she wanted to be alone with him. She turned away quickly, and, in her haste, caught her foot against a projecting stone, and stumbled. She was never in any real danger of falling from the tower; at the worst, she might have grazed her arm against the wall, but moving swiftly, Lord Thurlby prevented her from sustaining any injury by catching hold of her in his arms.
He drew her closer; he lowered his head; for a moment, she thought that he was going to kiss her and she held her breath. Some rooks flew overhead, cawing loudly and breaking the spell.
‘Thank you,’ she murmured, looking away from him.
He released her at once, flushing. ‘You must take great care in these old buildings,’ he said, sounding strained. ‘The floors are often very uneven.’
‘I will take more care in the future,’ she answered, conscious of feeling disappointed as they descended the stairs.
Thurlby walked down ahead of her, so that he might break her fall should she trip. And while for her part, Lavinia was somewhat preoccupied by the pleasing sight of his broad shoulders, he found himself thinking about the young woman who was just behind him. If he paused, he might even feel her breath on his hair.
He had been sorely tempted to kiss her a few moments ago. The sound of the rooks overhead had brought him to his senses. He hardly knew whether to be glad or sorry. Now that the moment was past, he remembered how Lavinia had arrived in Lincolnshire having been the willing recipient of Riseholm’s advances. She had never excused herself or given any explanation for her entanglement with his rakeship. Thurlby grinned humourlessly. Whatever his faults, the man had ever had good taste.
This visit to Folkingham may have laid some ghosts, but the memories remained. He could still recall how he had felt when he had encountered
the girl he had set his heart upon in another man’s arms. He had no desire to repeat the experience. Even so, he could not deny the attraction that he felt for Lavinia – an attraction which, despite any relationship she might have had with his rakeship would not go away.
She had assured him that that entanglement was over and done with, and he had no reason to doubt her word. Nevertheless, would a woman who had danced and flirted with men of the town during the London season be content with country life?
The direction of his thoughts almost caused him to miss his footing. Why should Lavinia live in the country? Her aunt and uncle would return to London eventually, and she would make her home with them again, surely? There were only two possible reasons that he could think of for her to live at Thurlby Hall. One would be for his mother to take the burden of her care off her uncle and aunt’s shoulders. The other he hardly dared name; but the thought of it made his heart beat a little faster.
Chapter Eleven
Isobel and Timothy Ames were already inspecting the dungeons. This had, inevitably, been at the lady’s behest. Mr Ames had again suggested that her shoes might not be entirely suitable for such an expedition, but she had pouted, insisting that she did not want to miss something so interesting, simply because she did not possess the right sort of shoes. She managed to make it sound as though some unkind person had denied her the chance of having boots, and earned a thoroughly undeserved sympathetic look from the vicar.
‘Of course we shall go down to the dungeons if you wish it,’ he said kindly. ‘I will assist you.’
‘Thank you,’ replied Isobel, laying her hand on his arm.
Lord Thurlby had taken the precaution of bringing some candles for the use of the party, and the vicar made sure that he had one with him when they went down to the dungeon. It was indeed very needful, for there were no windows at all in the lower chamber, and without a candle, it would have been impossible to see anything, except for the small area at the foot of the stairs. It was also damp and chilly – hardly the place to visit when wearing a thin muslin dress and very little else. Isobel, however, showed no signs of physical discomfort. She looked around the murky chamber, which was only faintly illuminated by the candle held high in Mr Ames’s hand.