“I believe I should go now, sir—”
“Must you? I felt sure we were about to have a most interesting debate—”
Caroline felt hot all over. It could have been the wine, or the heat from the fire, but she knew it was more likely to be her own unruly emotions. She moved towards the door, almost stumbling over the hem of her dress in her haste to be away from him. Lewis took her elbow to steady her and Caroline snatched it away.
“Thank you, sir, I am able to manage very well!”
Caroline heard him laugh.
“I see.” He was reaching for the doorhandle and she was inexpressibly relieved to see him open it this time. “And you will not leave Hewly over this unfortunate misunderstanding?”
Caroline bit her lip, suddenly sobering. Whatever he said, the experience had soured her already equivocal friendship with Julia. She did not doubt that Julia had cast aspersions on her integrity, and Lewis’s smooth pretence of a misunderstanding was just that—a pretence. It left a bitter taste in her mouth. Julia had told malicious lies about her and Lewis had believed them. Caroline had been intending to leave Hewly anyway, but this only reinforced her intention to do so as soon as possible.
Lewis had evidently read her answer in her face. He closed the door again.
“Miss Whiston,” he said slowly, “I must beg you to stay with us, at least for a little.” He leant back against the door, his gaze very sombre. “This is a bad time for us. I have already observed that my sister has started to rely on you as a friend and I believe she is going to need that companionship very soon. I appeal to you—if you cannot stay because of Julia, stay a little to help Lavender.”
Caroline sighed. She felt trapped by his words. She had already thought of the implications of leaving Lavender in a house where her father was about to die and her cousin was a silly, vain creature incapable of offering her the support she needed. True, she had her brother, but he would have so many matters to attend to after their father’s death. A few weeks ago it would not have mattered to her; a few weeks ago she had not come to like and respect Lavender Brabant. But now…
“I know it is unfair of me to ask you,” Lewis said, smiling ruefully. “Believe me, I only do it because I feel that it is so important for my sister. But if you truly believe that you cannot bear to stay—”
“No,” Caroline spoke quickly. “I will stay—for Miss Brabant’s sake, at least for a little while.”
“Thank you.” Lewis took her hand and pressed a kiss on it. “I am truly grateful, Miss Whiston. And for the other—”
“Do not let us speak of it again, sir.” Caroline withdrew her hand quickly.
“If you wish.” For once Lewis seemed oddly at a loss. “One thing I must say, though, Miss Whiston. I was very wrong to doubt you, and for that I am truly sorry—”
Caroline made a dismissive gesture. She did not wish to pursue the subject, for thinking of it would only make her realise how sore her heart was. She allowed Lewis to open the door for her and walked slowly upstairs, aware of his gaze following her progress. When she had finally gained the sanctuary of her own room she closed the door softly and sat down, dry-eyed, in the chair beside the bed.
She did not wish to stay at Hewly Manor. The oppressive nature of the atmosphere was depressing and, taken with the evidence of Julia’s malice, it created an unpleasant feeling in the pit of her stomach. Yet she had promised Lewis that she would stay, at least for a little, and she would keep that promise. She opened her eyes and stared at the black sky visible in the square panes of the window. He had said that he wanted her to stay to befriend Lavender, and she had agreed on those terms. Yet now she found herself acknowledging that she wished he had asked her to stay for himself.
The approach of Christmas was heralded by few of the usual festivities. Lavender and Lewis drove around the tenant farms and cottages, delivering presents and Christmas good wishes, but the atmosphere was subdued and the shadow of Admiral Brabant’s illness lay over everyone. When Julia mooted the idea of attending the ball at the Angel, Lavender declined to go and Caroline chose to stay at home to keep her company. She could think of little worse than watching Julia flirt with Lewis all night and sitting on the sidelines whilst she waited for him to notice her and remember to offer her a courtesy dance.
Julia returned in high good spirits and full of gossip.
“The talk in the village is all of betrothals and weddings!” she said at breakfast the day after, looking impossibly fresh in a dress of yellow muslin with a matching bandeau in her hair. “Beatrice Roade is to marry Lord Ravensden tomorrow and if it wasn’t for this wretched snow we could all attend! She has done very well for herself, for Ravensden is an excellent catch!” She stirred her chocolate. “Really, it is extraordinary how well these girls do when they have no looks or portion! When India Rushford caught Lord Isham it was marvel enough, but Beatrice Roade is an odd, outspoken girl…” Her gaze dwelled on Lavender for an instant.
Caroline buttered a second piece of toast. “Perhaps Lord Ravensden enjoys Miss Roade’s company, Julia.”
Julia’s eyes opened very wide. “Lud, what a strange notion, Caroline! Do you not remember,” she gave a little feline smile, “that when we were at school we used to say that about the plain girls! The only way they would get an offer would be from some gentleman who thought they had a pleasant personality!” She gave a peal of laughter. “Of course, in those days you were quite a pretty girl yourself—”
Lewis rustled his newspaper irritably. “You have forgotten Viscount Wyndham, Julia! Do you not have some comment to make about him?”
“Why yes!” Julia seemed to completely miss Lewis’s sarcasm, and turned to the others with sparkling eyes. “The most piquant piece of gossip imaginable, my dears! They say that he sometimes has girls staying alone with him at his hunting-lodge near here—”
Lavender got up and very deliberately left the room. Julia stared.
“Well, upon my word—”
Lewis folded his newspaper, tucked it under his arm and rose to his feet. “Excuse me. I shall be in the study if anyone requires me.”
Julia shrugged pettishly as the door closed behind him. “What can be the matter with those two today? Now, did I tell you about Miss Reeth…”
Caroline sighed and poured herself another cup of chocolate. It seemed so unfair that she was the only one who could not simply get up and leave Julia to her own devices.
Admiral Brabant died three days after Christmas. It was hardly unexpected and all his family was with him at the end. Whilst they assembled at the bedside, Caroline took Nanny Prior down to the kitchens and poured her cup after cup of strong, sweet tea, listening sympathetically whilst she talked of her long association with the Brabant family and her sorrow that both the Admiral and his wife had now passed on. It was late in the evening and eventually Nanny Prior blew her nose hard on a capacious white handkerchief, gave Caroline a watery smile and said, “Bless you for listening whilst I rambled on, child! It’s a sad business, but I suppose there’s always hope! When Master Lewis—the Captain, I should say, now that he’s the head of the household—when he sets up his nursery, then we shall see brighter times ahead here at Hewly!”
Caroline stirred her tea and wondered whether Nanny Prior thought such an event was imminent.
“News of a betrothal might lift everyone’s spirits,” Mrs Prior continued, obviously following the same train of thought herself. “Though, I suppose, with the house in mourning…” She sighed. “Then there’s those who would not be so happy to see the match. Ah well, matters will resolve themselves in time! It’s a sad homecoming for Miss Julia, though, with her uncle taken ill so soon after she arrived, and never in his senses again! Why, she was barely in the house two hours before he was struck down!”
Caroline could see quite easily how Nanny Prior had made the connection between Lewis’s nuptials and Julia’s presence at Hewly, and her heart sank. She could hardly ask the old nurse whether the servants though
t a match between the two was a foregone conclusion, and really Mrs Prior’s comments spoke for themselves. With a sigh she helped herself to a piece of rich sponge cake, reflecting that eating for comfort was delicious but a bad idea, and that she would suffer for it when she finally came to try to sleep.
“We found him in the study with everything scattered about him,” Nanny Prior was continuing, with a certain gloomy relish. “The ink pot had spilled all over the desk and the quill was on the floor—there were reams of paper everywhere! Proper mess it was, and with the Admiral lying insensible in the middle of it all! It’s surprising the poor gentleman lasted as long as he did!”
“What was he writing?” Caroline asked, her mouth full of sponge cake.
Nanny Prior stared. She seemed much struck by the question. “Well! Now you’re asking!” She frowned in perplexity. “I don’t rightly know, miss! Never thought on it again until now! There’s a thing! A letter, I think it was, though so blotted and spotted you could hardly read…” She shook her head.
“Ah well.” Caroline drained her cup and wondered whether Lavender might need her. She was about to go upstairs to find out, when a maid stuck her head around the kitchen door, bobbed Mrs Prior the respectful curtsey of a junior to a senior servant, and addressed Caroline.
“Begging your pardon, ma’am, but Mrs Chessford is asking for you.”
Julia was waiting at the top of the stairs, weeping artistically into her lace handkerchief and leaning heavily on Lewis’s arm.
“Caroline,” her former friend instructed as she wiped her eyes prettily, “I require a hot posset to help me get what little sleep I can this wretched night. I must sleep, or I will look a hag in the morning.” She gave Lewis a sweet, mournful smile. “Do you go down to the kitchens again and prepare a drink of milk and nutmeg for me, and Lewis, pray stay with me until Caro returns for I cannot bear to be left alone—” She broke off.
Lavender was coming out of the Admiral’s bedchamber, her face pale and ravaged with tears. For a moment Caroline thought she saw a hint of chagrin in Julia’s eyes, but the next moment she was drooping charmingly on Lewis’s arm, murmuring that she felt a little faint. Caroline hurried across to put an arm around Lavender, calling to Lewis over her shoulder.
“Captain Brabant, I believe your sister needs you. I will assist Mrs Chessford to her room and fetch her a drink. Then, if I can be of any comfort to Miss Brabant—”
“Thank you, Miss Whiston.” Lewis dropped Julia’s arm without a second glance, bestowed a grateful but distracted smile on Caroline, and crossed the landing to take Lavender in his arms. Caroline and Julia watched them walk away together, Lavender’s fair head resting on his shoulder.
“Well!” Julia said, straightening up and suddenly sounding much stronger, “you would have thought that Lewis would at least ascertain that I was quite well before he left me! I can scarce believe—”
“Julia,” Caroline said, in a voice of iron, “Miss Brabant has just lost her father. Whilst I am sure that your feelings for your godfather were sincere, I do not believe that your loss can compare with hers. Now, I will go down to fetch you your drink, and I will send Letty up to attend you.”
Julia flounced off towards her room. “You have become quite the managing creature, Caroline! Since nobody cares for me I shall do perfectly well on my own!”
Sighing, Caroline went back down to the kitchens. Cook was already there, stolidly stirring a pan of milk on the stove. She looked up and gave Caroline a faint smile.
“Miss Whiston, I’ve prepared some milk for my little lamb and I’ll slip a noggin of brandy in with some nutmeg so that she sleeps…”
For a moment, Caroline wondered whether Cook could be a lot more fond of Julia than she had always appeared to be, then she realised that the woman was talking about Lavender, not Julia.
“I will take Miss Brabant’s drink up for her, if you wish,” she volunteered. “I know you must all be at sixes and sevens down here…”
Cook threw her a grateful glance. “Bless you, Miss Whiston, that we are! What with the housemaids crying in the pantry and John the footman gone to the village with the news and Nanny Prior awash with tea…”
“If there is any milk left, may I take it to Mrs Chessford?” Caroline asked carefully. “I am sure she would be grateful for a cup—”
Cook sniffed. “Grateful for nothing, that one! Complaining of us to the master, and queening it about the house as though she were mistress here already! Now the Honourable Mrs B., she was a proper lady. Turning in her grave she’ll be to think of that one taking her place!”
Caroline realised that she had made a tactical error in raising Julia’s name. She had known that most of the servants disliked Julia because she had complained to Lewis of their shoddy ways almost as soon as he was through the door. And Cook was obviously very upset at the Admiral’s death, for she was wiping a surreptitious tear away with the corner of her apron and sniffing over the milk. Caroline patted her arm in a comforting manner and received a weak smile for her pains. Cook filled two cups with milk, handed the tray to Caroline and thanked her once again.
Caroline went upstairs and knocked on Julia’s door. Letty answered and took the cup in, leaving Caroline relieved that she did not have to endure another of Julia’s diatribes. Through the panels of the closed door she could hear Julia’s voice rising and falling like a peal of bells. She went along the corridor, past a huddle of servants, and tapped on Lavender’s bedroom door. She could hear a murmur of voices from within, and in a moment, Lewis Brabant opened the door.
“Miss Whiston,” he gave her a faint smile. “Please come in.”
Caroline’s heart ached for him. There were lines of exhaustion and grief on his face and his eyes were tired. She wanted to comfort him and take him in her arms, and the impulse was so strong that it shocked her. Fortunately, perhaps, she was still carrying the milk, and now a spot of the scalding liquid jumped from the cup on to her hand and recalled her to her senses. She carried the cup across to the bedside table and set it down carefully.
Lavender was sitting propped up on her pillows and she gave Caroline a pale smile. “Thank you so much, Caroline. Will you sit with me for a little? Lewis has so many things that he must do.”
Caroline glanced questioningly at Lewis. He inclined his head slightly. “If you would be so good, Miss Whiston.”
“Of course.” Caroline waited whilst Lewis bent down and kissed Lavender on the cheek, then she sat down at the side of the bed and took one of Lavender’s hands in a comforting grasp.
“I am so sorry, Lavender. Although it was not sudden, it must still be a horrid shock for you.”
The younger girl gave her a grateful smile. “Thank you, Caroline. Yes, it is hard. For all that I knew father was dying, it is difficult to believe that he is gone. Yet I am glad in a way, for he was not himself towards the end and now his suffering is over.”
She reached forward and Caroline passed her the cup of milk. “Be careful, it is a little full.”
Lavender drank deeply. Her eyes were already closing when Caroline took the tilting cup from her hand and helped her to settle back on the pillows.
“Try to sleep, now. You are exhausted.”
“In a moment,” Lavender murmured. “Caroline, do you think that Lewis will marry Julia?” Her eyes flickered open briefly, lavender blue and drowned with tears. “Oh, I do so hope not! I could not bear it!”
Caroline was startled. It seemed to be the night when everybody’s prejudices about Julia were coming to the fore. Either Cook had put too much brandy in the posset, or Lavender’s grief had broken down the barriers of reticence, or perhaps both. She patted her hand.
“Do not worry about that now, Lavender.”
“No,” the girl turned her fair head against the pillow. “Perhaps all will be well. It is just…” She hesitated, yawning. “I do not like her, you see,” she said simply. “Nor do I trust her. She was supposed to be marrying Lewis years ago, but as so
on as he was gone to sea she threw him over for Andrew! Mama and papa did not like the match, but Julia made a dead set for him! She thought that I was too young to see what was happening, but I knew! It was only because Andrew was the elder son, and Julia was bored…”
“Hush…” Caroline soothed, hoping that Lavender would fall asleep soon and the feverish flow of words would cease. She doubted that the girl would even remember them in the morning.
“And then Andrew died and Julia was most put out,” Lavender said, with some satisfaction, “but there was always Andrew’s friend Jack Chessford—with Julia there is always the friend…I do hope—I do so hope that Lewis will see through her, but I fear not…I saw him with her in his arms last night…”
Caroline felt icy cold. She too had secretly hoped that Lewis would see through Julia’s outward beauty to the person beneath, for he was hardly a fool and she would have expected him to be a good judge of men. But of women…? Physical beauty could blind a man to much. Caroline had seen that plenty of times before and her heart, which had been in her boots, sank still further.
“I would like it above all things if Lewis would marry you, Caroline,” Lavender confided, smiling a little. “I shall have to contrive…” and at last, she fell asleep.
Caroline sat beside her for a little, until the fire died down and the cold in the room made her shiver. She got up and moved across to the grate, adding coal and logs to build the fire up again so that Lavender should not awaken with the cold.
“Let me help you with that.”
The door had opened softly and Lewis Brabant came back into the room. He helped Caroline to her feet and bent down to stir up the fire, before straightening up and casting a critical look over her.
“You look cold, Miss Whiston, and tired.” He kept his voice low. “I see that Lavender is asleep now. I hope that she was not…too…distressed.”
Caroline thought that it was hardly the moment to mention that Lavender seemed most disturbed at the thought of her brother’s marriage to Julia. “Miss Brabant is very upset, of course,” she murmured. “It is only natural. I believe she will sleep through the night, though. Cook put quite a measure of spirits in the milk…”
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