by Mary Nichols
Lydia brightened perceptibly. ‘Do you think he would?’
‘I will ask him. If he agrees, I think it would be a good idea if you went to stay with Susan in London for a week or two. You can take Annabelle with you. It will separate her from Peregrine Baverstock for a little while and maybe that will cool his ardour.’
‘But what will you say to Sir Arthur? He was so anxious that the wedding should be soon and we have already put him off one date.’
‘I’ll explain that you need to buy your wedding gown in town because there is nothing suitable to be had in Chelmsford.’
Lydia longed to go, to escape from everything that was oppressing her, but she was worried about her brother. He had said he might need her. He wanted her to help him wreak revenge on Ralph Latimer. Only a week before she would have been pleased to do so, but now she could not. Would he go ahead without her? Could she do anything to stop him? ‘But we’ve already ordered my gown, Mama.’
‘Oh, it will be easy to say it is not fine enough. Sir Arthur is so anxious that you should have the very best as befits his wealth and standing, he will agree, I am sure. I will speak to him this morning and then I will write to Susan. We should have a reply by the end of the week. Now, I think you should go back to bed. Janet will bring you something to help you sleep and by this evening, you will be feeling more like yourself.’
Lydia was too exhausted to argue any more. Besides, Freddie had spoken of coming home in a day or two, which meant whatever he was planning would be done by the end of the week before she and Annabelle set off for London. And going to London meant she could have another two weeks of freedom before she was irrevocably tied to Sir Arthur Thomas-Smith.
The draught Janet gave her was a strong one. She slept the whole day and the next night too, waking refreshed the following morning, determined to enjoy her sojourn in the capital when she learned that her mother had managed to persuade Sir Arthur to postpone the wedding until June, though he had been a little reluctant. ‘I told him that some of our more illustrious guests cannot come on the date we arranged, due to the short notice,’ Mrs Fostyn said, with a smile. ‘I think that was what decided him. He wants this wedding to be the social occasion of the year.’
Lydia heaved a sigh of relief, even though it was only a postponement. She began to plan her trip and she and Annabelle went into Chelmsford to buy new clothes for their stay in London.
Annabelle was a little subdued, but Lydia was still too absorbed with her own problems to worry about her sister. Her earlier optimism faded as the day wore on and she began to worry about Freddie. The man who had brought him in on the boat had definitely been French and he had also been expecting a package to be delivered to him. If he found out where it was, would he think Freddie had stolen it and given it to her? Should she tell Freddie about it? But how could she? She had no idea where he was.
And there was the Earl, wandering about the estate looking for smugglers. He did not know that one of them was Freddie bound on revenge for what had happened ten years before. Was he in danger? Was he in more peril than her brother? Oh, she prayed she would never have to choose between them. She loved them both. In the midst of all this deception, it was time to be honest with herself.
‘Shall we call on Caroline Brotherton while we are in town?’ Annabelle broke into her thoughts as they made their way back to the carriage, laden with parcels. ‘I must tell her of our trip to London. She is going herself, you know. We might arrange to call on her, or she and her mama might call on us while we are there. Susan would not mind, I know.’
‘Very well, but we must not stay long. Mama is expecting us home for dinner.’
Lydia was a little disconcerted to discover that Lady Brotherton was having an At Home and half of the county society was there, including Peregrine Baverstock. As soon as they had greeted their hostess, he made his way over to them. Without his parents watching over him, he seemed more confident. He bowed to them both and began talking about the Earl’s ball and how grand it had been and how charming Annabelle had looked and how he was going to London the very next morning. Annabelle smiled and smiled, completely besotted by him, and Lydia, looking from one to the other, felt a frisson of unease.
She wondered if she ought to say something to her mother, who had suggested the trip to London to separate them, but it went completely from her head when she arrived home.
‘There’s a letter for you, Miss Lydia,’ Janet said, pulling it from her apron pocket. ‘A boy brought it.’
‘A boy?’
‘Yes, I think he’s one of the boys from the village who helps Sir Arthur’s gardener. Cheeky little devil, he is too.’
‘Oh, Sir Arthur,’ she said, wondering why he should choose that unusual mode of communication, but the boy was perhaps coming home and it must have seemed a quick and convenient way to have a letter delivered. She took it and went upstairs to change out of her outdoor clothes, breaking the seal as she did so.
‘Meet me at the cottage in the woods as soon as it gets dark tonight. I will wait one hour. And do not forget your promise of secrecy.’ It was signed with a flourishing letter F, no more.
She sat down on her bed with the missive in her hand. How audacious of Freddie to use one of Sir Arthur’s employees to deliver it! But how did he know she was connected with Sir Arthur? Or was it coincidence? Was the boy one of the smugglers? It was very likely, she told herself, wondering how she was going to keep the appointment without telling her mother where she was going.
Being May, it did not grow dark until quite late and, by that time, John was already in bed and Anne, who had been sewing, was herself feeling tired. ‘I think helping to arrange that ball must have fatigued me more than I thought,’ she said, putting up her hand to stifle a yawn. ‘And what with everything else…’
Lydia looked up from the book she had been pretending to read and smiled. ‘Go to bed, Mama,’ she said. ‘I will make sure everything is locked up.’
‘I think I will.’ She stood up and kissed both her daughters. ‘Do not stay up too late, Annabelle.’
Unusually for her, Annabelle decided she would retire too and left Lydia alone. She waited several minutes until she could no longer hear her mother or her sister moving about and Janet had gone up to her own bedroom on the top floor, then she hurried up to Freddie’s room and dragged his clothes out once again.
In less than a quarter of an hour, she was hurrying up the lane towards Colston wood, her brother’s hat crammed on her curls. She kept a sharp look about her as she plunged into the wood, half expecting to see the tall bulk of the Earl of Blackwater blocking her path. Everywhere was silent except for a slight breeze moving the leaves and the snuffling sounds which could have been rabbits or badgers or game birds.
Just when she thought she must have missed it, she saw a glimmer of light in a window and made out the dark outline of the hovel against the night sky. She set out across the open space, making herself walk firmly, unwilling to let whoever was in the cottage know she was afraid. The door opened and her brother stood outlined against the light behind him.
Until that moment she had wondered if she really had seen him two nights before, that perhaps her dreams had spilled over into her waking hours and it had been wishful thinking. But here he was, as large as life and smiling at her in the wry way he had. She ran and threw herself into his arms. ‘Oh, Freddie, it is so good to see you again. I really couldn’t believe you weren’t a ghost.’
‘There is nothing ghost-like about me, Lydia,’ he said, hugging her, before drawing her into the room where a single candle glimmered on the table. ‘Let me look at you.’ He took her hands in his and held them out, arms outstretched. ‘My goodness, how you have grown! And in all the right places. My sister has become a beauty.’
‘Oh, Freddie, where have you been all these years? One letter when you first left home saying you had enlisted and then nothing. Mama has been so unhappy. We all have. Why did you not write?’
He let h
er go and turned away, as if the hurt was still too raw and he did not want her to see it. ‘I had been sent away, Lydia, sent away like a common criminal. Even Mama had turned her back on me. She did not even argue with the Earl when he said I must go.’
‘I think she thought it would be better than having you arrested for duelling.’
‘But the duel never took place and I would rather have had the opportunity to plead that in a court of law, than what did happen.’
‘Why, what did happen?’
‘I cannot tell you the half of it. Having no money for a commission, I enlisted as a common soldier. The life of such a one is harsh in the extreme. Not enough to eat and most of it unpalatable, hard work such as you would never believe and at the end of it, the possibility of being killed. I was sent to Canada. Life on board the troopship was even worse. And when we arrived, not only were we expected to fight the French but also the murderous Indians, who used our scalps as battle trophies.’
‘Oh, Freddie,’ she said, reaching out to take his hand. ‘But you are home now and no longer a soldier.’ She paused. ‘You are not still a soldier, are you?’
He smiled lopsidedly. ‘Are you asking me if I deserted?’
‘No, because I do not care. Except that someone might come after you.’
‘They won’t because I was Trooper Frederick Brown and Trooper Brown was captured by the French and never heard of again, presumably dead at their hands.’
‘You escaped?’
‘That is one way of putting it. Let us say, they were persuaded to let me go.’
‘By whom?’
‘It does not matter. I had to agree to do something for them in return.’
‘Spy? Oh, Freddie, did you agree to that?’
‘No, of course not.’ He paused. ‘A certain person wanted to bring contraband into this country and smuggling is something almost everyone does, and it seemed a good way to get home. And coming home is what I wanted most.’
‘Oh, and I am so glad you are here. But why all the mystery? Now that you have landed the goods, what is to stop you coming home?’
‘It is not as simple as that. I have not yet been paid for my services and there is the little matter of Ralph Latimer…’
‘Can you not forget him? He cannot harm you now.’
‘He owes me. He owes me ten years of my life.’
‘It is impossible to repay that, Freddie.’
‘No, but I need to see him squirm, I need him to feel my anger. He has inherited his father’s title and his wealth—’
‘Wealth, Freddie? The old Earl died impoverished. Any wealth there is Ralph brought back with him from India.’
‘India. Is that where he’s been?’
‘I believe so.’
‘And while he has been growing rich, you and Mama and the others have suffered too, is that not so? Humiliated, having to accept the Earl’s charity…’
‘Yes,’ she said, wishing she could say it had not been so. She did not want to encourage his anger and resentment, though she could understand it. She had felt it too, but now… Oh, everything was different now; his return had made her so happy she felt benevolent towards everyone, including the Earl. ‘But it has not been all bad and if it had not been for not knowing where you were, we would have been perfectly content.’
‘Now I am home and in a day or two I will take my place as head of the family and you will be able to hold up your heads again.’
‘We were always able to hold up our heads, Freddie,’ she said quietly.
‘And I must be able to hold mine up too and that means coming home wealthy and not belittled by that man at Colston Hall.’
She smiled a little, remembering that until recently that was exactly how she referred to him. And her mother had remonstrated with her. ‘He is not at all bad, Freddie. And we have to live as neighbours. At least until…’
‘Until?’ he prompted.
‘Until I marry. Freddie, you are home just in time to attend the ceremony.’
‘Who is he?’
‘You would not know him, he has only lately moved into the district. He is a widower, but he is very wealthy. His name is Sir Arthur Thomas-Smith.’
She heard his quick intake of breath before he said, ‘When did you become contracted to this man?’
‘Less than a month ago. We thought we would have to move from the dower house when Lord Latimer became the new Earl but…’
‘Is this marriage to be put to the account of the Squire of Colston too?’
‘No, Freddie, not really,’ she said, alerted by the anger in his voice. She did not want to give him any more reason to have his revenge. ‘It is an advantageous marriage and Sir Arthur is very generous.’
‘So he should be,’ he said enigmatically.
‘What do you mean?’
‘You are a prize above diamonds. I shall make sure he knows that. As for Ralph Latimer, I have something else in store for him.’ He paused and seized her upper arms until she winced. ‘I want you to persuade him to come here, tell him you have seen the smugglers, anything, but get him here. I shall be waiting for him.’
‘What are you going to do?’
‘It is not for you to know. The last time I let you in on a secret, you told Papa.’
‘I could not help it, he caught me going out of the house after you.’
‘But I sent you back to bed. Lydia, why, oh why, did you not do as you were bid?’
‘I had to stop you. I knew you were going to fight a duel and I was afraid one of you would be killed. When Papa caught me and refused to let me go, I had to tell him. Someone had to stop you.’
The candlelight, playing on his face, caught his expression of chagrin and hurt and faint humour. ‘He did that and no mistake and paid dearly for it. We all did.’
‘But it was an accident, Freddie, you must see that.’
‘Then we will stage another little accident.’
‘No, Freddie, no! You must not. You really must not. If anything happens to the Earl, you will never be able to come home. You will be lost to us again. Please, please, I beg you…’
‘Lydia, while he is here, while he is Squire of Colston, I cannot come home, don’t you see that? The place is not big enough for both of us.’
‘Then go and live somewhere else,’ she snapped. Then regretting it, she added, ‘You could live somewhere close at hand where we may visit you from time to time…’
‘And have him laughing at me all over again.’
‘I am sure he is not laughing at you. Talk to him, let him explain. Try to understand each other.’
He smiled slowly and cupped one of her hands in both his own, stroking it with his thumb before raising it to his lips. ‘Dear Lydia, always the peacemaker. I remember when we were children and Ralph and I quarrelled, you always came between us and made us be friends again.’
‘Then let me do it once more.’
He sighed. ‘Why are you defending him?’
She could not tell him, she could not bring herself to say it aloud, but in her heart the reason was plain enough: because she loved him and he was entirely without malice himself. All these years she thought she hated Ralph Latimer when there was nothing about him to dislike. He was, she had discovered, a good man. ‘It is not a question of defending him, Freddie, it is a question of preventing more heartache for all of us.’
‘Tell him to meet me here, then. Tomorrow night.’
‘I doubt he will come.’
‘He will if you tell him he’ll catch the smugglers. Now, you must go home.’ He smiled and touched her cheek with the back of his forefinger. ‘And, Lydia, go straight there and do not come anywhere near the wood in the next two days.’
She left him and walked home in a dream. Freddie was home, but such a different Freddie. Had she expected him not to have changed? Had she expected to see the same boyish grin, the slim figure, the blond tousled hair? How foolish of her!
But could she do as he asked? Could she lure Ralp
h to a rendezvous, the outcome of which was so uncertain? She did not want him hurt, or even humiliated. She loved him. She loved her brother too. If they met and fought, it would be almost like history repeating itself, but this time her brother had accomplices and the advantage of surprise. Oh, she could not let it happen, she could not.
Chapter Nine
Lydia woke next morning, knowing she could not do as her brother asked and lure Ralph to a rendezvous which might lead to his death. She could not believe Freddie wanted to do anything more than humiliate him, perhaps give him a bloody nose, but the other men might not be so merciful. If she did nothing, Freddie might be angry with her, but he would calm down in the end. But how could she be sure that Ralph would not wander abroad or try to lie in wait for the smugglers, as he had done on other occasions?
She ought to find some way of occupying him so that he could not go out. But what? She could not tell him the truth without involving her brother, and trying to divert him with conversation about anything else would not serve. Everything they had to say to each other had been said the night before and there was nothing left to say which would not increase the hurt in her heart. She could perhaps arrange an impromptu social occasion to which he could be invited, but who was to say he would come? Or anyone else at a moment’s notice? Supposing she sent him on a wild goose chase somewhere else? Into Burnham, perhaps, or Chelmsford? But what?
She ought to tell her mother, but she had promised Freddie she would not. She could go to Burnham and alert the revenue officer but that meant that all the smugglers would be rounded up, including her brother. Robert Dent. His name came to her in a flash of inspiration. He had been a friend of both men, was still friendly with Ralph, and though he might be implicated with the smugglers, he was not a violent man. She scrambled from her bed, drank the chocolate Janet had brought her, washed and dressed in her pink muslin and hurried downstairs. Her mother was in the kitchen talking to Cook and Janet about the day’s menus.