A Companion of Quality

by Nicola Cornick

  Dropping to her knees, Caroline lifted the bedspread and pulled out the old trunk that contained her keepsakes and letters. Her grandfather’s watch was still there, as was the locket left to her by her mother and the other little bits and pieces she had accumulated over the years. But there was nothing else. Where previously there had been bundles of letters tied with ribbon, now there was an empty space. Julia’s letters to her had all disappeared.

  Caroline stared in disbelief and mounting anger, going down on her knees again and peering under the bed. There was no mistake. All the letters had vanished. She sat back on her heels and surveyed the room for signs of disturbance, but there were none. That, and the fact that the letters were all that was missing, suggested that the thief had known exactly what he was looking for.

  Caroline got to her feet slowly. She did not wish to believe it, but there could be very little doubt that it was Lewis Brabant who had stolen them, and as she thought about it her fury started to grow. Lewis was the only one who knew about the letters, for he had found the one in the book and quizzed her about it. Then he had asked her about them again, only a few days ago. She had refused to discuss Julia’s correspondence and had foolishly believed that he had accepted her decision, but it seemed not, and now she would have to confront him about it…

  Caroline glanced at the clock and acknowledged that it would be the height of folly to beard Lewis in his room at this hour. The last time she had encountered him late at night, the consequences had been extreme. The matter would have to wait until the morning.

  Unfortunately that gave her too long to dwell on the situation. She tossed and turned all night, and by the time the morning came she was equally full of apprehension and anger. She knew that she did not look her best, for her face was drawn from both strain and lack of sleep, and she would have done anything to put off the confrontation. However, she knew it would not serve. She had to see Lewis at once.

  She found him in the library, apparently discussing horseflesh with Richard Slater. Captain Slater took one look at Caroline’s face and made a hasty excuse.

  “Well, I shall go directly to the stables and see what I think, Lewis. Perhaps you will join me later. Good morning, Miss Whiston…”

  Alone with Lewis in the unnerving silence, Caroline found her apprehension growing rather than diminishing. Lewis gave her a cool smile that reminded her of their previous quarrel and Caroline’s heart sank even further. This was going to be very difficult.

  “Well, Miss Whiston? What can I do for you?”

  “I have come to ask you to give me my letters back,” Caroline said, in a rush. She could feel the colour rising to her face. “I must insist, Captain—they are my property and should never have been taken!”

  Lewis’ smile was fading. “I beg your pardon, Miss Whiston? To what do you refer?”

  “You know full well!” Caroline’s overstretched nerves found relief in anger. “You know that I kept all of Julia’s letters over the years—you saw one yourself! Do you deny it?”

  “Of course I do not deny it,” Lewis said reasonably, frowning a little. “Forgive me, Miss Whiston, but I fear I am confused. What has happened to the letters?”

  “Oh, do not seek to gammon me!” Caroline snapped. “The letters have been stolen! I refused to tell you about their contents so you took them yourself! It is obvious who is the culprit!”

  There was a silence, but for the ticking of the longcase clock. Lewis’ eyes had narrowed. He rested both hands flat on the table and leaned towards her. His voice was very level. “A moment, Miss Whiston. Do I understand that you are accusing me of theft?”

  “What other explanation is there?” Caroline stared at him. “You were the only one who knew about the letters! You asked me about their contents and I refused to tell you! So—”

  “So you think that I went creeping about my own home to wrest from you that which you would not give willingly?” Lewis straightened up and drove his hands into his jacket pockets. With a queer jump of the heart, Caroline realised that he was very angry and that this was different from their quarrel the previous day. He was looking at her with disgust.

  Caroline backed away, feeling suddenly intimidated, but Lewis reached her side in two strides and put his hand out.

  “Do not hurry away, Miss Whiston! We have not finished discussing this yet!” He pulled her around to face him, his blue eyes hard with dislike. “We had just reached the interesting subject of your opinion of me! Unscrupulous, devious and a thief, I infer!”

  “I…” Caroline faltered. It had not occurred to her previously that she might have made a mistake. It had seemed so obvious; Lewis had wanted the letters, the letters had disappeared and therefore he must have taken them. Part of her anger, she realised now, had sprung from her disappointment in him. She had believed him principled and honourable, only to find that he had stooped to subterfuge and stealing. Or so she had thought. She had acted impulsively, and now it seemed that she might have made a dreadful error…

  “I will not waste my time in protesting my innocence,” Lewis was saying coldly. “If that is your opinion—”

  “What else was I to think?” Caroline asked desperately, stepping back and spreading her hands in a gesture of despair. “You wanted those letters—and they have gone! Someone must have taken them!”

  For a long moment Lewis stared down into her face. “Not merely anyone, Miss Whiston! You believed that I, myself…” He broke off, shaking his head. “Well, I would restore your letters to you if I had them, but I fear I do not!”

  He turned away and strode across the room. Caroline hurried after him.

  “I am sorry if I have made a mistake.” She put her hand tentatively on his arm and felt the tense anger in him. She was only slightly encouraged that he did not immediately shake her off. “I will not seek to make excuses. It was wrong of me to doubt you—”

  Lewis turned to look at her. The coldness and dislike were still plain in his eyes. “Pray do not apologise, Miss Whiston! I thought I had your good opinion, but it seems I was mistaken! Now, I have business to attend to. Good day to you!”

  And he went out, leaving the air still humming with his anger.

  Chapter Nine

  Mr Churchward, of the eminent London lawyers of the same name, arrived that same evening, just before dusk. Lewis sent a messenger to Perceval Hall to acquaint Lavender with the news, and the official reading of the will was set to take place the following morning.

  In the meantime, Mr Churchward requested a few private words and Lewis steered him into the study to take a glass of port. If the news of his inheritance was bad, he felt that the lawyer would probably need a stiff drink even more than he would.

  They settled in the wing chairs before the fire, but Lewis had noted at once that the lawyer could not be content with small talk, for he fidgeted with the clasp of his document case and rustled his papers at frequent intervals. Recognising these signs of agitation, Lewis decided to cut to the chase.

  “Well, Churchward, it seems there are certain matters causing you concern. Would you care to enlighten me?”

  The lawyer cleared his throat portentously. “Thank you, Captain Brabant. There are a number of issues that are a trifle irregular…”

  Lewis passed him a glass of port and raised an eyebrow expectantly. “Yes, Churchward? I must say that you do surprise me. Of all the things my father was, irregular could hardly be described as one of them…”

  Mr Churchward regarded him with mournful eyes. “One never can tell, Captain.” He shook his head slowly. “It is not that the Admiral’s affairs are not in order, simply that some of his requests are somewhat quixotic…”

  Lewis smiled ruefully. “It is a character trait I share, sir. Pray do not spare me—let us get straight to business. What are these irregular conditions to which you refer?”

  Mr Churchward cleared his throat again and extracted a sheet of paper from the pile. He placed his glasses on the end of his nose. “Well, sir.
The Admiral’s will is relatively straightforward, given the fact that the estate is not entailed and there are only a small number of beneficiaries. He altered his will after the untimely death of your brother, of course.”

  Churchward paused for a suitably respectful moment.

  Lewis nodded briskly. “Understood, Churchward.”

  “You are to inherit the estate of Hewly and the bulk of the Admiral’s fortune,” Churchward continued. He gave a small, dry smile. “The Admiral has made some sound investments over the years, sir. You are to be congratulated.”

  Lewis inclined his head. “Thank you, Churchward. Fortune has favoured the Brabant family, although fate has exacted a high cost with my brother’s death.”

  Mr Churchward assumed an expression of dolefulness. “Indeed, sir. The inheritance is not entirely straightforward, however. It is contingent upon two facts, but it is perhaps preferable that we deal with other matters before coming to those. Now, there are the usual bequests to servants and retainers, of course, and two additional beneficiaries.”

  “My sister and my father’s ward?”

  “Precisely so.” Again a hint of uneasiness seemed to enter Churchward’s demeanour. He had not touched his port. Lewis noted his discomfiture and wondered. He leant back in his chair and waited in silence.

  “Your sister Miss Lavender Brabant is given a dowry of ten thousand pounds. If she has not married by the age of twenty-five the money reverts to her absolutely.”

  Lewis raised his brows. “Very enlightened of my father! There are no other stipulations attached?”

  “None whatsoever, sir.” Churchward shuffled his papers again, then looked him straight in the eye. “Now your father’s ward, Mrs Chessford. She inherits the sum of one thousand pounds.”

  Lewis pursed his lips in a soundless whistle. That was scarcely enough to keep Julia in the style to which she aspired and he knew she would be deeply disappointed. The Admiral had been both godfather and guardian to her and he was a rich man. She could justifiably have expected more. Lewis shifted a little uncomfortably, remembering the unpalatable story that Julia had told him about his father’s behaviour. If the Admiral had proposed to Julia and she had rejected him, this looked very much like a spiteful revenge…

  “The bequest is smaller than I had anticipated,” he said carefully. “Did my father give any reason why he should leave his ward so small a legacy?”

  Mr Churchward fidgeted a little. He was looking at his most dry and formal, an expression which gave Lewis to think that even had the Admiral explained at great length, his lawyer was not about to share that with him.

  “No, Captain, not precisely. I believe,” Mr Churchward wetted his lips with the port, “that he felt that Mrs Chessford had a large enough fortune of her own. That is, she did before—” Mr Churchward made a vague gesture and Lewis understood what he meant. Julia had had a substantial fortune of her own before she and Jack Chessford had squandered it about Town. Lewis had heard the rumours and perhaps his father had too.

  “I had mentioned that the Admiral changed his will in your favour after your brother’s death,” Churchward said dryly. “It was at this time that he also made a change to Mrs Chessford’s legacy. Before that the figure had been…ah…considerably larger.”

  Lewis sighed and rested his chin on his hand. The difficulty was that all actions were open to interpretation when one of the parties was dead and could not therefore state his side of the case. The Admiral had disapproved of Julia’s behaviour for one reason or another…Lewis became aware that Churchward’s eyes were fixed on his face in the manner of one who has some further, even less appealing news to relate.

  “The two contingencies, sir…” The lawyer murmured.

  “Oh, of course.” Lewis drained his glass of port and sat back. “My inheritance is dependent upon two factors. Pray tell me, Mr Churchward…”

  Churchward looked gratified at this businesslike request.

  “Of course, sir. Your father made the following stipulations. Firstly that you should marry within a twelvemonth of coming into the estate. The Admiral said—” He cleared his throat and quoted: “There should be no long faces and foolish fussing over mourning. The boy—yourself, I believe, sir—should settle down, marry and produce an heir…”

  Churchward broke off at Lewis’s crack of laughter.

  “I suppose I should just be grateful that my father did not make the inheritance contingent upon the heir as well! Or was that his second criterion?”

  “No, sir,” the lawyer said primly. “The Admiral specified marriage within the year but the heir was—”

  “An additional benefit rather than a requirement? Thank you, father!” Lewis raised his glass in mocking toast. “So, the second stipulation…”

  “Was that you should not marry your father’s ward, Mrs Chessford,” the lawyer finished. “In point of fact, the Admiral stated that he could not prevent such a marriage, but if you should do so, the estate would be forfeit and would pass to your sister.”

  This time there was a silence. Lewis refilled his glass, taking his time. “But that is outrageous,” he said quietly, after a moment. “If I wish to marry Julia—”

  “You will lose your inheritance. Yes, Captain, that is precisely the case.”

  Lewis ran a hand through his hair. “But why—”

  Mr Churchward had assumed his favourite sympathetic expression, the one reserved for the breaking of bad news.

  “I am sorry, sir. Your father was most insistent.”

  “And he gave no reason?”

  “No, indeed. He gave no reason at all.”

  Lewis raised his head. “I see. Then there is no more to be said, Mr Churchward. You will, of course, be obliged to disclose all of these facts tomorrow?”

  The lawyer nodded slowly. “I will, Captain. You will understand now why I wished you to be apprised of them in advance?”

  Lewis nodded absently. “Yes, Churchward, I thank you for the warning.” He stood up. “I need some time to think. Now do you care to join the others, sir, or would you prefer to retire? After your long journey…”

  The lawyer took the hint. “Yes, Captain,” he said quietly, “I think that would be for the best.”

  “How could he be so cruel!” Julia wailed piteously, shredding her delicate handkerchief to strips and fixing Caroline with her desolate blue eyes. “Why, I cared for Uncle Harley like a daughter and how does he repay me? By leaving me next to nothing and separating me from the only man I ever loved!”

  Caroline reflected that it was the first time she had ever seen Julia cry real tears. At school Julia had always been able to cry on order if she needed to render a teacher more sympathetic, but she was seldom genuinely upset. Now, of course, she had been denied the two things she wanted most in the world and two huge drops were rolling down her cheeks towards her quivering lips. She dabbed at them ineffectually.

  “It is so unjust of him! The money is bad enough—how shall I manage now!—but to be torn apart from Lewis is too cruel!” She peeked at Caroline. “We had talked a little of the future and both of us knew how we wished it to be. Oh, of course, Lewis could make no formal declaration, with Uncle Harley’s death and matters so uncertain, but now!” She gave a sob. “We have waited so long, and now it is never to be!”

  “Perhaps Captain Brabant will disregard his father’s wishes if his feelings are so strong,” Caroline said, feeling the words stick in her throat. She had no wish to dwell on the thought, but it seemed possible that Lewis would renounce his inheritance for Julia if he truly loved her. He was not the man to be dictated to or to be tied by worldly considerations. “Besides, the Captain has his own fortune and need not be dependent on his inheritance—”

  “Oh…” Julia sighed heavily. “I could not ask Lewis to make such a sacrifice. To choose between his love and his duty—no man should be so obliged! Besides, Lewis has money of his own but it is nothing compared to the Hewly estate and fortune! He would be obliged to work f
or a living!” She wrinkled up her nose. “Oh, how dreadful! No, I have decided that I shall go away! It is the only solution!” She caught Caroline’s sleeve. “Dearest Caro, you will come with me, shall you not? We shall live in a cottage together and it shall be delightful…”

  Caroline could think of little that was less appealing. To hear Julia bemoaning her lack of funds when a thousand pounds was more than she could earn in a lifetime was particularly galling.

  “I have to earn a living, Julia…” she temporised, “and I doubt that you could bear the expense of a companion now—”

  Julia patted her hand. “Well, but I have a little to share! And we are friends…My mind is made up! We shall leave Hewly in a few days’ time! Now—” she cast her handkerchief aside “—pray send Letty to me, for I must organise my portmanteaux! I will call you in a little, Caroline, to write my letters for me!”

  Caroline went downstairs to find that Lavender was just bidding farewell to Mr Churchward. She turned with relief as Caroline came up and closed the heavy outside door.

  “Caroline! Thank goodness! Will you take tea with me? I need someone to talk to!” She looked closely at Caroline’s face. “Dear me, perhaps you need a confidante too!”

  They settled in the drawing-room with Lavender presiding over the silver pot.

  “Lewis and Captain Slater have gone out for a ride,” Lavender said, stirring the tea. “Poor Lewis, I think he wished to escape for a little! And really, it is monstrous of father to have behaved so, though I cannot but be glad!” She poured tea daintily into the two china cups. “I confess myself puzzled, however. Why should father do such a thing? I know he did not approve of Julia hanging out for Andrew, but that is scarcely enough…” Her voice trailed away in puzzlement.