“Miss Whiston! Good afternoon, ma’am! Would you care to join me for a little?”
“Oh, pray do not get up, sir!” Caroline hurried forward to forestall him as he made to get to his feet. “You will upset your line and you have just got it settled!”
Lewis subsided back against the tree trunk. “I do believe that you have been watching me, ma’am,” he said slowly, his eyes travelling over her face with the searching intensity that made Caroline so aware of him. “How long were you standing there?”
“A few moments only,” Caroline said hastily. “I had thought you at the Manor, entertaining your guests, sir!”
“I have left Lavender to do the honours,” Lewis said lazily, his eyes on the water. “To tell the truth, Miss Whiston, drawing-room chatter holds little interest for me! A little conversation, to recognise the condescension of our noble visitors, and I was making my excuses! There is a short cut from Hewly gardens across the water meadows. It took me but a minute to reach this spot with my rod and line.”
“And now I have disturbed you,” Caroline said, making to walk on. “I believe that fish dislike riverbank chatter as much as you dislike that of the drawing-room, sir!”
“Stay a moment,” Lewis said, gesturing to the rug spread out on the ground beside him. “You need not speak to me! But it is pleasant to sit and watch the river run.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Caroline sat down in the lee of a pollarded willow. The day was very quiet. Away in the distance she could see the roof of the Abbey, and she wondered idly what the Marquis of Sywell would do now that he was alone in all that splendour. The tale of the runaway wife had been the main gossip in the village for months now, with various wild stories circulating that the Marchioness had been gone for ages without anyone realising and, even more outrageous, that the Marquis had murdered her. Caroline sighed. Her own difficulties seemed to fade into insignificance when compared to the problems that would be faced by the Marquis’s poor little wife. Being alone in the world was a difficult business, as Caroline knew to her cost.
On the far side of the river a heron stood quite still in the shallows and a flock of woolly sheep grazed undisturbed. Lewis stretched, resting his fishing rod on a nearby stone.
“Sometimes it is pleasant to be still and think, is it not, Miss Whiston?”
“It is a luxury seldom allowed us,” Caroline agreed, with a little smile.
“Not everyone has the gift of silence,” Lewis said gravely, and for a moment Caroline wondered if he could be thinking of Julia. She turned her face away, feeling the faint sun warm her skin beneath the brim of her bonnet.
Lewis picked up a stone and idly skimmed it across the surface of the water.
“Miss Whiston, will you tell me something?” He hesitated. “I wonder…Did Julia ever speak to you of her marriage?”
The question was sufficiently unexpected to make Caroline turn and look at him. He too was gazing out over the fields, his chin resting on his hand, some unreadable expression in his eyes. Caroline felt some of her contentment in the afternoon drain away.
“She wrote to me a little,” she said carefully. “Why do you ask, sir?”
Lewis picked up the line again. “I wondered if she had been happy,” he said.
Caroline bit her lip. Almost all her enjoyment of his company had now gone, since it seemed that Lewis’s only aim was to speak to her of Julia. She could have kicked herself for her folly in thinking that it could ever be otherwise.
“You would have to ask Mrs Chessford that yourself, sir,” she said, trying not to sound tart. “I really have no idea. I believe that she enjoyed living in London and that Jack Chessford was an entertaining enough husband, but—”
“An entertaining husband…” Lewis mused. “What do you consider would make a man such, Miss Whiston?”
Caroline set her lips in a thin line. Here was another of Lewis’s strange, quixotic questions. She regretted ever making the remark.
“I have never needed to consider the matter, sir!” she said, not caring this time that she sounded sharp.
Lewis smiled at her suddenly and Caroline’s heart gave a little erratic thump.
“Truly?” he asked. “Well…” He shifted slightly. “Tell me, Miss Whiston, have you kept all the letters that Julia sent you during your acquaintance?”
Caroline stared at him in amazement. She could not follow his train of thought at all.
“I believe so, sir. Again, I wonder at your enquiry!”
Lewis shifted again, as though he felt uncomfortable. “Forgive me, Miss Whiston. This questioning must seem odd to you, I know, but there is a reason…I wondered if Julia had ever given the impression that she did not feel happy…safe…at Hewly?”
Caroline stared. Evidently there was more to Lewis’s enquiries than a simple wish to learn all he could about his beloved’s past, but she was at a loss to understand the reason for his questions.
“I never gained that impression from her writing,” she said, at length, “but again I must urge you to apply to Mrs Chessford directly, sir.”
Lewis’s gaze came back from some distant point and focused on her flushed face. He smiled at her again.
“You are quite right, of course, Miss Whiston! I should not have asked you. Forgive my importunity.”
Caroline made a slight gesture. She was quite at a loss. “It was nothing, sir.”
Lewis got to his feet and started to reel in his line. “The fish are not biting today. I fear the river runs too fast for them.” He looked down at her. “Will you walk back with me, Miss Whiston, or do you prefer that I leave you to your solitude?”
Caroline stood up and dusted down her skirt. “I will walk back. Twilight is closing in already.”
“I think we are in for a colder spell,” Lewis observed, his gaze going from the sliver of rising moon to the white mist that was starting to curl across the water meadows. “I should not be surprised if it snows in a day or so!” He picked up his rod and line and fell into step beside her.
The path followed the river’s course for a little way, then cut across the meadow and along the woodland edge until it reached the tumbledown wall that marked the border of the Hewly estate. Now that the sun had gone the air had a chill edge, and Caroline shivered a little as they made towards the lighted windows of the house.
“It will just be the two of us for dinner tonight, Miss Whiston,” Lewis said suddenly, as they passed beneath the old apple trees. “I believe that Julia planned to stay overnight with the Mountfords in Northampton, for there is a concert and assembly she wishes to attend. Richard,” his gaze was sardonic, “apparently remains there also, to escort her back on the morrow.”
Caroline cast a glance at his face. It was impossible to tell whether he was disturbed to think of Julia already entangling his friend in her schemes. The twilight was deepening now, the sky pure dark blue overhead, and it cast Lewis’s face in shadow.
“And Miss Brabant?” she questioned hesitantly. “Does she not dine with us?”
Lewis flashed her a grin. “Lady Perceval was intent on carrying Lavender off to the Hall for a few days! Oh, I know it is soon after my father’s death, but I thought it the very thing for Lavender to have a change of scene…When I was leaving earlier—” he indicated the fishing tackle “—she was about to write you a note. I know she hopes you will visit her at Perceval Hall, Miss Whiston, for she would not wish to lose your company…”
Caroline was silent, prey to mixed emotions. Julia and Richard Slater absent, Lavender at Perceval Hall…She remembered the ride back from Abbot Quincey and shivered a little. It did not seem wise to entrust herself to Lewis’s company.
“So we shall be all alone, Miss Whiston,” Lewis said gently, holding the garden gate open for her with scrupulous politeness. “I cannot tell you how much I look forward to it!”
Chapter Eight
“Beg pardon, ma’am,” the little housemaid said nervously, “but the Master says that he is waiting
for you to take dinner!”
Caroline closed her book with a decided snap. Since her encounter with Lewis earlier she had been beset by a number of feelings, none of them comfortable. She had puzzled over his questions about Julia’s marriage and her letters, had fretted over the thought of dining alone with him, and had eventually sent him a message to say that she would not be joining him and would take her meal alone in her room. It now seemed, however, that Lewis was not prepared to accept that decision.
“Pray tell Captain Brabant that I shall not be joining him,” she said sharply. “The Captain already knows that I have excused myself!”
The maidservant screwed her eyes up in an agony of embarrassment and anxiety. “Beg pardon, ma’am,” she said again, “but the Captain said to tell you—” she gulped “—that if you will not go to him he will come up here and dine with you in your bedroom!”
Caroline slapped the book down on her bed and got to her feet. “Very well, Rosie, I shall come down! Do not look so worried, child—it is none of your fault!”
“No, ma’am!” The servant girl dropped a grateful curtsey and sped out of the room. “Thank you, ma’am!”
Caroline hastily drew her black silk shawl about her shoulders and swept downstairs before her anger and indignation could desert her. Her outrage carried her as far as the hall, wavered slightly as a blank-faced footman held the dining-room door for her, and almost failed her altogether when she saw Lewis Brabant standing by the window and looking out over the dark garden. He turned as she came in and sketched a bow.
“Good evening, Miss Whiston! Thank you for joining me!”
“Is it your practice to send your servants with impertinent messages, sir?” Caroline asked frigidly. “I had already sent to tell you that I did not wish to partake of dinner—”
“No,” Lewis corrected her affably, “you had sent to tell me that you did not wish to take dinner with me! That is different!”
He came around the table to hold a chair for her. Caroline sat down, glaring at him. “Very well! If we are not to mince our words, sir, it is true that I preferred to dine alone!”
“Thank you for that clarification! Perhaps you would explain why?”
Caroline struggled a little. “Because it is inappropriate, sir!”
“Inappropriate,” Lewis murmured. “Pray, Miss Whiston, is that one of your favourite words?”
Caroline ignored him. “It is inappropriate for us to dine together when your sister and Mrs Chessford are absent—”
She was forced to stop as the door opened to admit a footman with the soup. When they had been served and the footman moved to take his place by the sideboard, Lewis signalled to him to withdraw altogether. Caroline caught her breath. For all that Lewis had listened to her views, he had evidently decided to disregard her feelings! This latest piece of irregular behaviour would have tongues wagging in the servants’ hall!
Caroline applied herself to the food in silence. Since her remonstrations had cut no ice, it seemed that this was the only way to show her disapproval. Lewis, however, did not seem particularly abashed, for his smile had a teasing edge to it.
“I cannot really believe that we are outraging the tenets of polite society,” he observed gently. “No doubt we shall have some pleasant conversation by and by, once you have overcome your annoyance that I forced your hand!”
Caroline glared at him again. Under such provocation, she was fast forgetting that one of her guiding principles was a cool and rational approach to all situations.
“You do not understand, sir,” she said coldly. “You seem to enjoy deliberately flouting propriety! A governess companion should not—” She broke off again as the footman returned to remove the plates, and there was a heavy silence.
They were served with roast beef, and once again Lewis suggested that the man withdraw, adding a few words that were too low for Caroline to hear. When the door had closed behind him, Lewis looked at her and raised his eyebrows enquiringly.
“A companion should not—what—Miss Whiston?”
Caroline shot him a disapproving look. “This is a waste of time, sir! You are clearly deaf to all pleas of respectability! I shall save my breath!”
“Ah, that argues a very practical mind! Why waste your time and energy on a lost cause?”
“That describes you very well, Captain!” Caroline agreed crossly. “Determined, wilful—”
“Once again, I feel like one of your naughty charges, ma’am,” Lewis murmured. “Do you also let them do as they please?”
“Certainly not!” Caroline frowned. “I hope that they would be more conformable than you, Captain!”
Lewis laughed. He got up to pour her another glass of wine. “I have certainly had longer to practise disobedience! But let us avoid such inflammatory topics! Tell me a little of the subjects you teach, ma’am.”
Caroline looked at him suspiciously. Surely no one was ever interested in the details of a governess’s life?
“Oh, I teach all sorts of things!” she said. “Languages and geography and music and drawing. If my charges cannot make landscapes in cut paper and embroider their own counterpanes and cushions, I feel I have failed at my task!”
“Landscapes in cut paper…You must be very accomplished yourself to be able to teach such things, Miss Whiston,” Lewis commented. “But with Mrs Guarding’s excellent schooling behind you…”
“Yes, indeed, I was most fortunate not to be turned out into the world without an education!” Caroline agreed with a slight smile.
“Yet there must be plenty of ill-educated governesses in the world, passing on their own ignorance!” Lewis observed, refilling her wine glass.
“Well, that is a little harsh,” Caroline found that she was laughing, “but certainly there are those who struggle. And their charges are not always biddable girls!”
The conversation moved imperceptibly on to geography, then to history and politics, with Caroline lowering her guard as she realised that Lewis had a genuine interest in discussing such matters with her, as well as a well-informed mind. She found herself expressing her own views with an openness that was far from her usual demeanour.
When the footman finally returned to serve the dessert, Caroline realised that they had indeed been talking for a long time. She bit her lip. To relax into the intimacy of the situation, to find Lewis’s company attractive and stimulating, would be a vast mistake. She refused the pudding course a little abruptly and hoped that Lewis would take the hint and go off to drink his port, allowing her to escape.
Lewis was frowning a little, as though he were aware of her withdrawal. “I shall not desert you for the pleasure of the port,” he said, almost as though he had read her mind, “for then I know you would run away! Pray come into the drawing-room for a little, Miss Whiston!”
Caroline hesitated. Lewis was coming round the table towards her and she suddenly felt a lot less sure of herself. With acres of polished wood between them she had not been so disturbed by his proximity, but now…He took her elbow in a firm grasp and Caroline felt a flicker of awareness ripple through her.
“I do not believe that would be quite—”
“Appropriate?” Lewis slanted a look at her.
“Suitable,” Caroline amended. She made a gesture of appeal. “I am your cousin’s companion, sir! Neither she nor your sister are at home, so…”
“So you said before! Am I to fear for my reputation? Is that it?”
Caroline looked reproachful. “You may mock, sir!”
“Upon my honour, I intended to do no such thing! Is it not possible to be compromised by a governess companion? I could certainly try…”
“I scarce think so, sir,” Caroline said crossly. “Though the reverse is undoubtedly true! Which is why I must have a care for my own reputation! Indeed, I am thinking of leaving Hewly shortly. Now that Miss Brabant is so well cared for, I feel free to take up another post.”
Lewis turned towards her, an arrested look in his eyes. His l
evity seemed forgotten.
“Must you go quite yet, Miss Whiston?”
“Well…” Caroline could feel a blush rising, “I have the chance of a new position and I did plan…” She broke off, unwilling to refer back to the unhappy business of Julia’s spiteful meddling.
“I suppose there is nothing to keep you here.” Lewis’s voice was suddenly expressionless.
“Mrs Chessford does not really need a companion,” Caroline said, a little desperately, “and you know that she and I do not really suit! I am sure that she has been very upset by the Admiral’s death, but I cannot really offer her the solace she needs! She requires amusement and distraction, not someone to write her letters for her! And a change of scene would be useful—It must have been horrible for Julia that the Admiral was taken ill so soon after she arrived—”
Caroline stopped rambling, aware that Lewis’s eyes had narrowed suddenly on her face. He had listened in silence as she had rattled on and somehow his intent gaze had made her chatter all the more, but now she fell silent as Lewis frowned.
“After she arrived, Miss Whiston? But surely Julia came to Hewly in response to my father’s illness rather than before it!”
“Oh, no.” It was Caroline’s turn to frown now. “Nanny Prior told me that when Julia arrived, the Admiral was quite well! It was a few hours later that—” She broke off as she saw the flash of some extraordinary expression in Lewis’s eyes. “Why, what have I said, sir?”
Lewis was shaking his head slowly. “Nothing, Miss Whiston. I am persuaded…” He touched her hand briefly, sending another shiver along Caroline’s nerve endings. “I wonder what else you know, however…”
For a moment his gaze searched Caroline’s puzzled face. She forced herself to keep still beneath his scrutiny.
“About what, sir?” she asked coolly.
Lewis laughed. “Pity me that I cannot ask you what is in my heart!” he said enigmatically. “One thing I can ask you, however, Miss Whiston.”
A Companion of Quality Page 13