Change of Heart

by Margaret Eastvale

  ‘And you saw nothing of any of them?’

  ‘No, miss. Except…’ he hesitated, then went on doubtfully, ‘I did think I saw the young woman this morning—the shameless hussy who wore those—those breeches, if you’ll forgive the word, miss, in that play-acting last night.’

  ‘Rosy? Where was she?’

  ‘Along by the mill. They takes in lodgers sometimes when the inn is full. I only got a glimpse, for she whisked out of sight when she saw me coming but I couldn’t miss that hair, She’d been talking to that fancy Mr. Weston—leastways I thought it was him, but I didn’t get a good look at him neither, so I might have been mistook.’

  Anne did not think so. She hurried along the village street in the direction he indicated. It seemed impossible that the whole family could disappear so completely without trace.

  Also, Rosy might be able to throw some light on Weston’s movements in the barn last night.

  The miller’s cottage, a ramshackle building, lay beyond the rest of the houses, masked from them by a line of willows. No Rosy was to be seen but Weston stood at the door, deep in conversation with the miller, a shifty-looking individual whom she remembered as a one-time crony of Thomas’s, whose lady-friends often used the miller’s spare room. Presumably Weston was following his late master’s example in billeting Rosy there.

  ‘Where is Miss Delamare?’ Anne greeted them abruptly.

  ‘I fear that I have not the faintest notion, ma’am.’ As ever the steward’s slightly derisory tone infuriated Anne. ‘I understand that she departed this hamlet in the early hours.’

  ‘And I was told that she had been seen here with you this morning!’

  ‘Impossible!’ Was it her imagination or did he dart a warning frown at his companion? ‘I have it on the best authority that the whole family ran off in a panic before anyone else woke this morning.’

  ‘And why did they leave in that way?’ demanded Anne. ‘Surely you explained that Lord Ashorne wished to help them, not punish them for an accident that harmed themselves more than anyone else.’

  ‘I tried to tell them so,’ he replied with an uncaring shrug, ‘but that poor fool Delamare must have been too drunk to take it in. I had supposed he understood me, so was as surprised as anyone to find him gone.’

  The words did not ring true, but Anne had no way of disproving them. She glared in frustration at his bland expression. Was he lying, or did her dislike of the man so colour her reaction to whatever he said that she automatically doubted him? Curbing her indignation, she asked coldly, ‘And you are positive that Rosy went with him?’

  ‘As far as I know, or care, she did. You’ll find no trace of her or any of the others in the village now. She had come along here to spend the night at the mill because there were only two rooms free at the inn, but Luton has seen nothing of her since she went up to bed last night. Have you, Ned?’

  His companion smirked confirmation of this statement. He grinned smugly at Anne as he disappeared into the mill. She felt his word was as little to be trusted as the steward’s.

  ‘I thought she might have stayed behind to express her gratitude to you for helping to save her valuables yesterday,’ she persisted. ‘Without your aid they would have been lost.’

  ‘True, but then she hadn’t as nice a sense of gratitude as you. Perhaps it is just as well.

  She wasn’t my type at all.’ He flicked an audacious glance over her. ‘As you know, Miss Anne, I’ve always preferred blondes myself.’

  His tone, falling barely short of insolence, grated on Anne, but somehow she managed to bite back the angry retort. It would do little good to antagonise the steward. As she tried to move away Weston stood his ground, blocking her path. ‘Why so desperate to run off, Miss Anne? Aren’t you going to thank me for the compliment?’

  Disturbed at the aura of menace he managed to project, she still refused to be intimidated.

  ‘Your preferences do not interest me,’ she told him coldly.

  ‘No, it is his top-lofty lordship who takes your fancy, isn’t it? I’ve watched you making sheep’s eyes at him when you thought no one was looking.’ He cut off her furious protest with a careless laugh. ‘Don’t pretend I’m wrong. I see as much as the next man. But you’ll need to work a lot harder if you want to cut out your sister. She has him besotted like all the men. Poor fools!’

  ‘How dare you…’

  ‘You’d be surprised at what I dare! But I don’t understand why you let Julia outshine you as you do. You could easily rival her if you made some effort—if you didn’t copy her so slavishly—wear her colours,’ her hairstyle. Can’t you see that puts you at a disadvantage?

  No wonder no one gives you a second glance.’

  ‘I’ve heard enough of your impertinence!’ Anne’s eyes flashed in fury; her voice shook.

  ‘Move aside immediately, or Lord Ashorne shall hear of your insolence. I’ve often been tempted to complain of your behaviour to my sister and refrained as I thought it her business, but I will not endure such rudeness myself.’

  ‘I don’t advise you to mention it,’ he said softly, ‘unless you want your sister’s guilty secrets made public. Or would it serve your purpose, perhaps, to have her exposed and leave the field clear?’

  ‘I am not so contemptible.’

  ‘More fool you. Your sister won’t play fair. She’ll take any chance to play a dirty trick on you—or anyone else.’

  ‘She won’t be very happy when I tell her your opinion of her.’

  He shrugged indifferently. ‘I don’t imagine you will tell her, but it doesn’t matter if you do. Julia won’t dare to cross me.’

  The familiarity was unendurable.

  ‘ Lady Ashorne,’ Anne began, stressing the title furiously, then stopped as she remembered that Julia had no real claim to it. ‘My sister,’ she corrected herself crossly, ‘does not…’

  ‘Difficult, isn’t it?’ he smiled in triumph at her frustration. ‘Poor Julia so resents the loss of her dignities, doesn’t she? One feels so sorry for her.’

  ‘Then you have a strange way of showing it. I’ve seen you try to browbeat her. What are these precious “secrets” you hold over her?’

  ‘You must ask Julia that question,’ he responded provokingly, and regarded her angry flush with interest. ‘That colour suits you—you should lose your temper more often.

  Looking like that, it wouldn’t be difficult for you to cut out dear Julia. Her charms are fading fast now, that’s what makes her so desperate. Just stop being a doormat to her.’

  Anne tapped her whip furiously against her boot. She was tempted to strike his insolent sneer off his face, but retained enough self-control to resist the impulse. Weston would retaliate for sure, and he was bound to come off best in any contest of that sort.

  ‘If you have quite finished, I would like to leave,’ she told him, taut with suppressed rage.

  ‘Of course! But don’t forget what I say,’ he moved aside with exaggerated politeness.

  ‘Please let me know if you discover any more about the Delamares,’ she said stiffly, determined not to let him see that lie had upset her. ‘I am very concerned about them.’ She walked swiftly away, trying to dispel her fury in action. It was useless to hope that she would really learn anything from the steward. As ever, he was too much on his guard.

  Fetching her horse from the inn-yard she rode home. All the way Weston’s words rang uncomfortably around her brain. However unwillingly, she had to admit that he was correct.

  All her life she had admired and copied Julia. Was that as great a mistake as he suggested?

  Would she have been wiser to develop her own style? Would Edmund prefer that to a slavish imitation of Julia?

  Angrily she dismissed the thought. Why should she take any heed of the steward’s opinion? Weston was arrogant enough to believe that any female must be grateful for his admiration, and had spoken just to arouse her interest. Well, he would not succeed with her!

  Back at Ashorne Mano
r, Edmund was surprised by the story of her fruitless search for the Delamare family. ‘Whatever could have made them leave in such a secretive manner?’

  ‘No one seems to know.’

  ‘And no one had any clue as to where they were going?’

  ‘None. They might have vanished off the face of the earth.’

  ‘I don’t understand why you are worrying about the tiresome wretches,’ Julia exclaimed.

  ‘After all the trouble they caused us yesterday, you should be thankful to see the last of them.’

  ‘I suppose I am,’ Edmund replied, ‘but at the same time I can’t help feeling responsible for their flight. In the stress of the moment I was more brusque with Delamare than events justified. I fear it was that severity that drove them away.’

  ‘You cannot blame yourself,’ Anne exclaimed. ‘You tried to help them, after all.’

  ‘But not very successfully, if this happens. I should have been less thoughtless. Delamare was so terrified that he ran off not daring to face me. I’m sorry my harshness has cast the family out into the world penniless.’

  ‘Not entirely penniless,’ Anne reassured him. ‘Ferdie was prudent enough to rescue the money from last night’s performance, and they don’t appear to have wasted any of it on settling their debts in the village.’

  ‘And that blowsy female has the trinkets she risked Phillip’s life to save,’ Julia pointed out acidly.

  ‘I can’t see Rosy sharing her nest-egg with her family,’ Anne commented. ‘Even if she is with them, which seems in doubt.’

  ‘What do you mean by that?’ demanded Julia. ‘Where else should she be?’

  ‘I suspect that whatever the rest of the family have done, she has stayed nearby here to be with Weston, although he denies it, of course.’

  ‘Then I believe him,’ Julia declared shrilly. ‘You are letting your imagination run away with you again, Anne. He can have no interest in that sort of girl!’

  ‘He is interested in any type of girl,’ Anne told her curtly. ‘It is time you faced up to the truth. Weston has a thoroughly bad reputation in the village for his carryings-on. I am only sorry that we put Rosy in his way, so that she was tempted to split away from her family.’

  ‘Don’t torture yourself over it,’ Edmund put an impulsive hand over hers. ‘Rosy is capable of looking after herself. In fact the whole family seems pretty resourceful. They appear well able to fend for themselves. Look at the way they whisked themselves away so successfully. I don’t approve of their method of leaving, but have to admire the efficient way they carried out the manoeuvre.’

  ‘I suppose you are right.’ Anne relaxed a little to smile back at him. ‘I don’t suppose this is the first setback in their career.’

  She coloured as Julia’s eyes glared down at her hand, still clasped in Edmund’s. She pulled it away sharply then felt annoyed a second later that she should be ashamed of accepting the friendly gesture. Even if Julia had misinterpreted her attitude she knew Edmund would not.

  ‘They’ll soon bounce back.’ He continued to smile at her, ignoring Julia’s disapproving scowl. ‘It is kind of you to fret over Rosy, but she’s a far tougher character than you give her credit for being.’

  ‘Well, I cannot see why she is so concerned about the wretches!’ Julia burst out. ‘That ridiculous old mountebank nearly killed us all because he was too drunk to see where his feet were. It was criminal carelessness! If I had my way they’d all have been flung into jail, and so I told that stupid child who had been hanging round Kit all day yesterday. That took the grin off his face, precocious little brat!’

  ‘Ferdie!’ Anne exclaimed. ‘You shouldn’t have upset him, Julia. He must have told his father what you said. No wonder they were scared enough to run away.’

  ‘What if they were? Why are you making such a fuss over them? Good riddance, I say! I’m sure Edmund is as glad to see the last of them as I am. My poor gown was utterly ruined in the fire they caused. Fifty guineas it cost me, and I have to throw it out after one wearing.

  That material never washes properly. I don’t know where I’ll find the money to replace it.’

  She paused hopefully, but Edmund failed to take the hint.

  ‘I’m sorry to think of them wandering friendless and afraid that we are hounding them still, but they are resilient enough to overcome that. It’s done now and can’t be mended. I suppose I must go and see what can be done about the barn.’ As soon as he was out of earshot Julia rounded on her sister. ‘What do you think you are up to now? Holding hands with Edmund again! That’s the second time in two days I’ve caught you at it!’

  ‘I wasn’t…’

  ‘Don’t try your lies on me!’ Julia cut her off ruthlessly. ‘I’m not blind! Don’t imagine I can’t see you are doing your best to cut me out with Edmund. Buttering him up and finding fault with everything I do!’

  Anne opened her mouth to apologise, then stopped. Why should she always be the one to give way? Julia was in the wrong, after all, totally misinterpreting the situation. That wretched steward was right. She spent too much time placating her sister. It did not help matters really. Julia just grew more unreasonable.

  ‘I warn you your tricks won’t work,’ Julia continued shrilly, working herself into a passion. ‘Edmund is in love with me. He means to marry me as soon as my year of mourning is up—and that’s not long now!’

  ‘In that case,’ Anne was stung into retorting,’ you can have no cause for alarm whatever I do.’

  Was it true? she wondered bleakly. Edmund had seemed impatient with her sister lately, but when the fire threatened it had been Julia he saved. Surely that indicated his real feelings.

  ‘I’m not concerned for my own sake,’ Julia hastened to explain mendaciously. ‘It is you I am thinking about—I don’t want to see you hurt. I know how gallant Edmund is, but he means nothing by it, so don’t let yourself be misled. He still thinks of you as a child, and doesn’t realise how seriously you take his friendly overtures.’

  Dejectedly, Anne reflected that this was all too credible. Edmund’s behaviour towards her had changed subtly in the past few days, but it was an easy comradeship they shared— nothing like the passion he bore for Julia six years ago. To read anything stronger into his manner was only to indulge in wishful thinking and court greater disappointment. Perhaps Julia took her silence for dissent, because she went on more aggressively.

  ‘What I say is true, Anne, whether you want to believe it or not. Oh, I admit he hasn’t said anything officially yet, but that’s because he is always so correct. But he’ll marry me—just you wait and see! He has made it clear in all sorts of little ways that he is still of the same mind as when he left six years ago—and it is very natural that he should be. After all, it is only right that we should marry for the child’s sake.’

  ‘The child’s sake?’ echoed Anne in surprise.

  ‘Kit, of course! He needs a father, and who more appropriate than Edmund?’ As Anne stared blankly at her, Julia looked away, unwilling to meet her sister’s eye. Twisting her fingers in the trimming of her gown, she hurried on disjointedly, ‘I’ve never spoken of this before—it is all very awkward—I’m sure we need never mention the matter again, but surely you agree that in the peculiar circumstances Edmund and I must marry for Kit’s sake.

  With the—the special relationship it is only fitting that we should.’

  ‘What special relationship do you mean? They are only cousins—second cousins at that.’

  ‘That is what I have always allowed everyone to believe,’ Julia frowned in exasperation at her obtuseness, ‘but it isn’t the truth. Do I have to spell it out to you? Edmund is Kit’s father!’

  ‘ Father!’ For one awful moment, cold to the heart, Anne believed her. Then commonsense reasserted itself. ‘Don’t be foolish, Julia! How could he be?’

  ‘It’s true, alas!’ Julia hung her head still lower. ‘Have you never suspected why it was I married Thomas so hastily? I was forced to run off
with him, much as I regretted it, because I was expecting a child—Edmund’s child!’

  ‘I cannot pretend I have never had such a suspicion,’ admitted Anne. ‘Much as I tried to suppress my doubts, I couldn’t help noticing that Kit was remarkably large and strapping for the seven-month baby you claimed him to be, but it was Thomas I cast as villain then—and still must. No one can make me credit an eleven-month pregnancy. You aren’t an elephant, my love!’

  ‘Well!’ gasped Julia in outrage. ‘Of all the vulgar remarks! I don’t know how you can speak of such things! It’s disgusting!’

  ‘You introduced the subject,’ Anne pointed out drily. ‘You really cannot expect me to swallow such a farrago of nonsense, Julia. Or did you imagine I could not add up to nine?’

  ‘I am astounded you should be so well-informed on such matters,’ Julia directed a sulky frown at her sister, ‘let alone speak of them in so brass-faced a way. I am sure I was properly ignorant of anything of that nature before I was married!’ She glowered as Anne burst into laughter, demanding furiously, ‘Now what have I said that is so amusing?’

  ‘Don’t be so hen-witted, Julia!’ Anne spluttered, diverted in spite of her indignation.

  ‘How can you lay claim to snow-white maiden modesty when a second ago you were insisting that your knowledge had passed from theory to practice? It is too ridiculous!’ Her laughter dying away, she stared narrowly at her sister’s baffled scowl. ‘You haven’t been trying to pass this tale off on Edmund, have you?’

  ‘Of course I have not! And I forbid you to breathe a word of it to him. I should not dream of mentioning so indelicate a subject to a gentleman!’

  ‘No! Because he would know there wasn’t a grain of truth in it,’ Anne commented shrewdly. Julia’s crestfallen expression betrayed the accuracy of this guess. ‘I can picture Thomas in the role of seducer, but not Edmund. He put you on a pedestal—worshipped you like a goddess. It was Thomas who was the earthy one!’