Lewis Brabant pulled the gig up beside Caroline a moment later. “Miss Whiston! I looked for you both in Abbot Quincey, but it seems that I must have just missed you! Is everything all right, ma’am? My sister seemed in an unconscionable hurry to escape!”
Caroline’s eyebrows were still raised at Lavender’s hasty departure. Neither their conversation nor Lewis’s arrival seemed to require such speed and she was at a loss to explain it.
“I think Miss Brabant preferred to walk back across the fields,” she said, lightly. “I believe she might have in mind some scene for a new sketch!”
Lewis Brabant gave her a rueful smile. He jumped down on to the road. “No doubt! And in the meantime, you are left with the heavy basket! You must let me take you up, ma’am! It will save you a good half-mile!”
Caroline hung back, unwilling to analyse why she felt so reluctant to join him in the gig. “Oh, but have you finished your business about the estate? I have no wish to inconvenience you, and the basket is really very light—”
Lewis had already taken it from her arm and now had his hand under her elbow, ready to help her climb up into the cart. Before Caroline could even finish her sentence, she found herself installed on the bench with a rug tucked around her.
“It is not so dashing as a phaeton,” Lewis said with a smile as he swung up beside her, “but a deal more practical on these roads! I would take Nelson out, but he is still a little lame. Thank you for tending to him the day that I arrived, Miss Whiston.” He flashed her a glance. “The groom told me that you had given very clear instructions on what was wrong with his leg. Do you ride, Miss Whiston?”
“I used to ride as a girl,” Caroline admitted, trying not to smile at the thought of a horse named after England’s greatest Admiral of recent times, “and I enjoyed it a great deal. There has been little call for it in my various posts, however!”
Lewis encouraged the horses to a stately trot. There was little room on the bench, and Caroline jumped as his body brushed against hers. It filled her with an odd feeling of awareness.
“Have you always lived in the country, ma’am, or did the families you lived with sometimes go to Town?”
Caroline tried to concentrate. “Oh, I have lived mainly in the country and like your sister, I much prefer it! I had a season in Town when I was young—” she hesitated, not wishing to sound as though she were complaining of her lot “—before my father died.”
“Did you so?” Lewis shot her a quick sideways look. His gaze was frankly admiring and brought further colour to her cheeks. “I am surprised you did not make a match of it! You must have had plenty of offers!”
The breeze cooled Caroline’s hot face. “I did not take,” she said lightly, remembering Lavender’s words of ten minutes before. “I was a hoyden in those days and the stately dowagers took me in dislike! Fortunately I did not know what would shortly befall me—”
She broke off, aware that her words were equivocal. She did not wish to imply that she would have made a marriage of convenience, for she would have done no such thing. What she had meant was that she had been a heedless girl who had grown up swiftly when she had been forced to earn her own living. There was no way that Lewis would realise that, however.
“I suppose that an expedient marriage would have been a preferable alternative to having to earn a living—” Lewis too broke off, seeing Caroline’s discomfort, and for a moment there was a constrained silence broken only by the clatter of the horses’ hooves on the track.
Caroline felt awkward. He had misunderstood her in precisely the way she had feared, thinking that she would have accepted any offer to escape penury. She did not like to think that he would believe her shallow enough to consider such a course of action. For some reason it seemed important to correct his impression, but she hesitated on the edge of explaining, good manners holding her back. Whilst she struggled with her feelings, Lewis spoke again.
“I beg your pardon, Miss Whiston,” he said slowly. “I should not have spoken thus. I fear I am not accustomed to having to choose my words with such care as society requires. I meant no offence.”
“I imagine that one would run aground if procrastination were the rule at sea,” Caroline said brightly. She found she could not look at him. Her overriding thought was that now he must believe her superficial indeed. She closed her eyes. Why his good opinion should matter so much was unclear, but matter it did.
“So Lavender prefers the country to the city, does she?” Lewis said, after a brief moment. “I had guessed as much, but was not sure if she was secretly hankering for another season in Town! I had thought to take a house there next year, but I believe the estate will demand so much of my time that it may not be possible for a while.”
“Has the estate fallen into disrepair so very quickly, then?” Caroline asked, hoping that her interest would not be construed as impertinence. “I did not think that the Admiral had been ill for so very long—”
“It is true that he only had his attack three months ago,” Lewis agreed, “but I believe his health has been in decline ever since my mother died. They were most sincerely attached. Then there was the blow of losing my brother as well. I believe he felt that all he had worked for was slipping away and that he started to let it go as of that time.”
“I am sorry,” Caroline said hesitantly, “and for yourself also, having to return from sea at such a time…”
“Well,” Lewis turned his head and gave her a slight smile, “I was due to return shortly anyway, although the circumstances were not what I would have chosen. My last ship, Dauntless, was to be scrapped and they had not yet assigned me to another. A pity,” he added absently, his eyes on the road. “She was a fine vessel, brave and true…”
They had reached a bend in the road where the land fell away to the south and Hewly could be seen nestling in its hollow, the village of Steep Abbot curled around. The river lay like a shining ribbon and the forest spread away beyond the fields like a patchwork quilt. Caroline could not help a smile.
“It is so very beautiful, though, is it not, Captain Brabant? If one must be forced to stay on land one could do worse! The house is a little gem—it is full of unique features! Did you know that the plaster representations on the wall in the porch are very rare? I have been reading up on their history, and—” She stopped, suddenly self-conscious, wondering why she was rattling on to him about his own home. No doubt he knew far more about it than she! Lewis was smiling too. He gave the horse the office to move off again. “You must tell me about the history of the Manor some time, Miss Whiston,” he said pleasantly. “I confess I know little of it, though I suspect Lavender is well-read on the subject! She seems to have a very well-informed mind.”
“Your sister is a very accomplished girl,” Caroline agreed, secretly glad to turn the subject. She was not sure what was the matter with her, only that she seemed as awkward as a green girl in his company. “Mrs Guarding’s school deserves its good reputation.”
“Yet more than a good education must be required for a cultivated mind, surely,” Lewis observed. “There must be an interest, a willingness to learn…”
Caroline tried not to think of Julia, who had to be the best example of an uncultivated mind and wasted education that she could imagine. “I believe Miss Brabant possesses both,” she said carefully.
“And I am grateful that she has sensible company here at Hewly, ma’am!” Lewis gave her a warm smile. “Lavender was ever a quiet child. The gap in age between the three of us was enough to set her apart, leaving aside the difference of her sex. I had feared she might become a recluse, but I realise that your presence here must be of great benefit to her.”
Caroline felt warmed by his approval and told herself severely not to be foolish. There was nothing very encouraging in being described as sensible. In her own mind she acknowledged that it would be of equal benefit to her to have Lavender’s companionship. The girl’s quiet but intelligent presence was proving a good antidote to Julia’s
petty demands and spiteful asides. She could scarcely express such a view to Lewis, however, particularly given that he seemed to view Julia as the perfection of womanhood.
The gig trundled down the hill towards the village. Caroline watched Lewis’s hands on the reins, tanned and strong, and repressed a shiver. She would be glad to be out of such close proximity. There was something about him that disturbed her equilibrium, and Caroline was unaccustomed at having to deal with such inappropriate feelings.
They clattered up the cobbled street and into the Manor courtyard. A groom came out to take the reins whilst Lewis jumped down and offered a hand to help Caroline descend. “It seems to me, ma’am,” he said slowly, “that we started our conversation talking of your tastes and preferences, and swiftly moved to discussing everything from my view of the estate to my sister’s accomplishments! Are you always so adroit at turning the conversation?”
Caroline blushed and tried to withdraw her hand from his grasp, but he did not release her. She thought fleetingly that it was odd that no one else had ever noticed how she tried to efface herself, but then that was probably a measure of her success. Most people who knew her would probably concur that Miss Whiston was good at her job, a little severe perhaps, but that was only to be expected in a governess companion. Of her interests and pastimes they would have no knowledge and express no interest. That was how she had always wanted it to be—until now. She looked into Lewis Brabant’s blue eyes, softening now with the smile that was creeping in, and felt a strange pang in her heart. For a moment she entertained the thought that this was a man with whom she would gladly share her ideas, her interests. She dismissed the idea a second later, for it was foolish, painful and, she acknowledged, utterly without future.
Chapter Four
That evening was the first time that Caroline had dined with the family since Lewis’s return, and the contrast between her own grey worsted and Julia’s confection of silk and lace reminded her forcibly of the difference in their circumstances. She felt a frump in her plain grey dress, very much the companion, paid to be seen and not heard, to fade effortlessly into the background. Small wonder that Lewis could not even see her when Julia was by. She knew she was a fool to imagine that it could ever be any other way.
Such uncharacteristically diffident thoughts made Caroline hesitate in the drawing-room doorway. Lewis and Julia were sitting together before the fire, apparently engrossed in an animated debate about the decoration of the house. The lamplight gleamed on Julia’s golden curls and sparkling blue eyes. She looked both elegant and appealingly fragile, and Caroline thought drily that Lewis seemed utterly captivated.
“…Red damask and rose wood,” Julia was saying in her languid drawl. “You must let me have the refurbishment of this room, Lewis! It could be so Tonnish…”
“My dear Julia,” Lewis said wryly, “it will be several years before I can even think of restoring the house! There are fences to be mended and walls to be rebuilt so that my father’s tenants may prosper in their business—”
“Oh, pooh!” Julia sounded almost petulant. “Why must they come first? You must decorate the house, Lewis! No one will call if they think they are visiting a mausoleum! Why—” She broke off as she saw Caroline hovering in the doorway. “Caro! So you have finally succumbed to my invitations and decided to join us for dinner!”
Caroline fought down a prickle of annoyance. For Julia to imply that she had pressed invitations upon her was bad enough, but then to be addressed as Caro, in a pretence of friendship, was too much. She came forward smiling a little stiffly and already regretting the impulse that had led her to agree to dine with them. Lewis rose to his feet politely at her approach and sketched a bow. Caroline, contrasting his cool courtesy with the warmth she had just seen him show Julia, felt a sudden pang of desolation.
“A glass of wine, Miss Whiston?” Lewis asked, “or some ratafia, perhaps? It will only be a few minutes until we dine.”
Caroline accepted a glass of wine and went across to the window seat, where Lavender was reading a book and making no pretence of joining in the general conversation. This segregation seemed to suit Julia, who had already taken up again the theme of restoring the estate at the price of neglecting the house. She was leaning towards Lewis and touching his hand lightly to emphasise some point she was making. Caroline looked away deliberately and was glad when Lavender gave her a warm smile and gestured to her to sit down.
“Good evening, Caroline! It is pleasant to have some alternative company!” There was a spark of humour in Lavender’s voice. “I fear that I have little of use to add to Cousin Julia’s discussions on household furnishings!”
They fell to talking about Lavender’s book, which was Mary Elizabeth Jackson’s Botanical Dialogues, until the gong sounded. Lewis gave Julia his arm into the dining-room and Caroline and Lavender followed behind.
Caroline privately thought that the cook had excelled herself with the dinner, but Julia was less impressed and compared the dishes unfavourably with the sort of meals she had experienced in London.
“The banquets were so lavish!” she observed. “So elegant! Why, I recall an occasion when the dear Prince Regent had served forty-eight dishes in one evening!”
“Enough to bring on a fit of indigestion!” Lavender commented sweetly.
Julia fixed her with a cold blue gaze. Caroline waited to see if she would administer a set-down and concluded that it was only Lewis’s presence that held her back.
“Do you remember the hideous meals we used to be given at Mrs Guarding’s school, Caro?” Julia continued, shivering artistically. “Boiled mutton and squab pie! It is a wonder I survived at all!”
Caroline thought that she heard Lavender murmur, “And a pity!” but she could not be sure.
She applied herself to her food. It seemed safer to say nothing, and as far as she was concerned the meal could not be over soon enough. She had no intention of being used as a foil by Julia, who obviously wished to dominate the conversation with her sparkling wit.
Lavender also bent her head over her plate and did not speak again. Watching her face, Caroline wondered suddenly how Lavender must have felt when Julia invaded her home again. It seemed unlikely that Julia had even stopped to consider Lavender’s feelings, and since she made no secret of her rather condescending pity for the girl, Caroline could hardly wonder at Lavender’s dislike. Once again, Julia reminded her of the cuckoo in the Hewly nest.
She looked up, and saw that Lewis Brabant was watching his sister with a rather curious expression on his face. Caroline speculated that perhaps he was wondering how to smooth over the antipathy between Julia and Lavender. She was certain that he had already realised just how difficult it would make his life if his future wife and sister did not see eye to eye. Still, that would hardly be sufficient to discourage a determined man, and from what she knew of Captain Brabant, Caroline suspected that he could be very single-minded in achieving his aims…She looked up to see that his gaze had transferred itself to her. For a moment it seemed that he had correctly divined her thoughts, for he raised an eyebrow in a quizzical gesture, and Caroline stared back transfixed before lowering her gaze again and trying to hide her blushes.
Dinner dragged on. It was one of the most uncomfortable meals that Caroline could remember. She positively jumped up from the table when it was time for the ladies to withdraw and leave Lewis to his solitary port. They retired to the drawing-room and Julia immediately began a patronising attack on Lavender’s choice of pale blue for an evening gown. It was evident to Caroline that Julia had only been waiting her opportunity.
“That colour makes you look so pasty, my dear Lavender—so sallow! Not that any colour is likely to flatter, for your complexion is so washed-out! Perhaps a cerise…” Julia put her head on one side thoughtfully. “No, that would be too strong…or yellow—”
“I like the blue,” Lavender said, in a tight little voice.
Julia laughed lightly. “Yes, my dear, but what do y
ou really know of matters of style? It does not surprise me that you could not catch yourself a husband when you were in London! Why, most of the gentlemen probably scarce noticed you were there!”
The colour rushed into Lavender’s face. “We are not all concerned with entrapping a husband, cousin Julia! I would as lief catch a cold!”
“Well, but you cannot expect to stay here for ever,” Julia said brightly, and it seemed to Caroline, an embarrassed observer, that she had reached the real point of what she was saying. “Your brother will marry and will scarce wish his little sister to be hanging about the house—”
Caroline cleared her throat, about to intervene to try to pacify the situation, when the door opened and Lewis strolled in. He took in Lavender’s angry face, Julia’s smug one and Caroline’s strained expression, and raised his eyebrows expressively. Caroline was glad to see him so soon, for his presence could not but ease the situation. On the other hand she was surprised; if she had been in his position she would have taken refuge in the study and finished the whole bottle of port.
“Let us have a round of whist!” Julia exclaimed suddenly, clapping her hands. “That would be just the thing to cheer us up! Lewis, will you partner me?” She gave him a melting smile. “It will be so much more exciting if you do!”
Caroline studiously avoided looking at either Lewis or Lavender. Whist was not her interest, though she played competently enough, having been asked to make up the numbers on many occasions. It soon became clear that Julia had deliberately chosen a pastime at which she shone. She won handsomely, mainly through chattering all the time and distracting her opponents. After one round, Lavender excused herself and went to bed.
A Companion of Quality Page 6