Change of Heart

by Margaret Eastvale

  Despite her exasperation at the tissue of lies Julia had spun, Anne could not help an unwilling sympathy for her. ‘Whatever made you so foolish as to land yourself in such a scrape? Thomas wasn’t worth it!’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Julia shrugged hopelessly. ‘It just seemed to happen, Edmund had gone off to the war, all patriotic fervour, and I was furious with him—and miserable at the same time. Thomas was all sympathy then—seemed to know just how I felt. I suppose he just swept me off balance. I wasn’t the first to fall for his wiles—nor the last! I hadn’t meant to marry him, but things turned out differently from what I intended.’

  ‘Different from what he planned too, I’ll warrant. I am only surprised that he agreed to marry you—child or no child.’

  ‘Oh, he was still wild for me then and eager to spite Edmund. It wasn’t hard to persuade him.’ Julia hesitated before adding diffidently, ‘You won’t tell him, will you—Edmund I mean?—it’s bad enough now. I wouldn’t want him to know how foolish I had been.’

  Anne could believe that. Incredibly, Julia seemed to see nothing wrong in her conduct— only being found out struck her as being a disgrace. How was it that their standards were so different? Still, Anne was not so petty as to betray her sister to Edmund.

  ‘It is scarcely a subject I am liable to raise with him, is it? Whatever you may think, I am not that brazen. Your guilty secret is safe with me, though it might be more sensible—and more honest—if you told Edmund about it yourself.’ With sudden inspiration she demanded, ‘Is this silly business the secret which Weston is holding over your head? Is he threatening to tell Edmund of it?’

  ‘Good lord, no! How could he have found out?’

  ‘But there is something?’ Anne persisted.

  ‘No! No! No! I don’t know why you are always harping on about Phillip Weston. He is an old friend of mine, that’s all! Sometimes we have our differences, but I’m not in the least bothered about that. I’ve told you already that I can handle him!’

  ‘Can you? Are you sure he is as harmless as you pretend? He seemed remarkably confident of his hold on you when I spoke to him last. And apart from whatever he is trying to do with you, I mistrust him. Don’t you ever suspect that it is he who is trying to kill Edmund?’

  ‘Of course he is not!’ Was she mistaken, or was there a touch of desperation in Julia’s vehement denial, as if she were trying to convince herself too? How can you suggest such a thing? You know Phillip was injured by the same intruder who shot Edmund.’

  ‘He could have rigged up that incident to deceive us. What about last night? He was in the barn and had the opportunity to stun Jonas—mistaking him for Edmund.’

  ‘With the Delamare creature hanging on his arm the whole while? Talk sense, Anne. I heard the girl say she had never lost sight of him in the smoke. No, Edmund is making a fuss over nothing. The stupid groom hit his head in the confusion and has seized the chance to appear interesting by making a great song and dance about it. All those years cooped up in prison have turned Edmund’s brain—made him suppose everyone is against him. Don’t you be taken in by his delusions!’

  Anne was shocked by her callous tone. She had noticed how Edmund avoided the subject of his captivity. His uneasiness at being confined, for even a short period, had given her some inkling of the torment those six years must have been to one of his temperament. But to say that it had turned his brain was totally unjust—how could Julia be so unfeeling when she claimed to feel affection for him?

  ‘Do you love Edmund?’ she demanded bluntly.

  ‘What has that to do with anything? He loves me!’ Which was probably true enough, Anne had to admit. Though at times she suspected that he was less blind to Julia’s faults than he used to be, his action in saving her first when the fire threatened them proved where his preference lay.

  ‘And I mean to marry him!’ Julia added sharply, ‘no matter how you scheme!’

  ‘Don’t worry, I can see that it is you he wants. There is no need for you to invent any more fantastic tales to scare me off.’

  ‘I’m sorry about that,’ Julia had the grace to look abashed. ‘It wasn’t one of my brighter ideas. It was just that I was worried, and somehow the story seemed so right—you know how it happens.’

  Anne did. She had seen Julia in action too many times to feel great indignation over the incident. Julia never meant to lie, but somehow the facts became twisted to a version that suited her best.

  ‘I didn’t want you breaking your heart over Edmund again, love. And I don’t want James hurt either. He worships you!’

  Anne doubted whether even Julia could believe that. James hung so devotedly on Julia’s every word that she must realise his love was concentrated on herself. However, she let the remark pass without comment. She had decided days ago that nothing would induce her to marry James now; she must have been mad ever to have considered the idea. Even before Edmund’s return reminded her how high her standards had once been, she had begun to realise how unlikely the match was—James and she were totally unsuited. Now that she realised that his love was given to Julia and her own to Edmund, it was impossible.

  However, she knew better than to announce that decision yet. Julia would never follow her reasoning. She would be bound to leap to the conclusion that this was confirmation of her fears that Anne was hoping to win Edmund from her. Heaven knew what commotion that would cause!

  The faint doubt that putting off the evil moment was unfair to James, was easily stifled.

  Anne suspected that he would be more relieved than anything by her decision. He too was having second thoughts, and once he got over the shock of being rejected, he would be happy in the knowledge that nothing now stood in the way of his devotion to Julia. With sudden clarity Anne realised that Julia would be better off with James than with Edmund.

  With the baronet’s totally uncritical admiration she would be free to act as she pleased for the rest of her life. Nothing she did seemed to shake his faith in her: Edmund would prove a far more demanding husband. All the same she doubted whether Julia was ready to accept the idea—James might be rich and doting, but Edmund’s rank was a greater attraction in Julia’s eyes.

  Anne made a noncommittal reply and her sister flounced away, trailing her gauze scarf petulantly behind her. But however much she resented Anne’s earlier words, they clearly bore some fruit. Anne was not surprised, a little later on, to see Julia deep in conversation with Weston. They were too far off to be overheard but from the expression on Julia’s face and her angry gestures, Anne guessed she was taxing the steward with the rumours about Rosy.

  He appeared, as ever, coolly unconcerned, pooh-poohing her furious reproaches. Julia’s claims of dominion over him seemed scarcely borne out by this encounter. Fiery, abrupt movements betrayed her fury. At last she jerked away, sharp-faced with rage, while he looked after her, an amused half-smile, half-sneer on his face.

  With sinking heart Anne saw her fears confirmed. Whatever hold Weston had over Julia must be very strong if he was ready to risk her anger in so careless a fashion. What might it not drive her sister to do? Anne wished she could believe that Julia would stop short of active participation in his schemes, but she could not rely even on that.

  CHAPTER

  NINE

  In the following days an uneasy atmosphere filled the Manor. Julia was jumpy and fretful; she watched Anne’s every move yet seemed unable to meet her sister’s gaze. Anne kept out of her way whenever possible. Edmund’s temper was equally frayed; he snubbed James and snapped at Julia. Was the memory of those unsuccessful attempts to kill him bothering him too? Anne found herself starting at any sound, hourly expecting some new disaster to overtake them.

  Nothing more had been heard of the players. Odd reports had come of Rosy being seen, but Anne was unable to get any firm details. If Weston had her secreted away somewhere he was keeping her well hidden. That uncertainty did not help.

  Things could not go on this way, Anne decided at last. It
must be easier for them all when she and Julia were able to move to Melthorpe. Living on top of each other like this was trying all their nerves. After the disquieting episode of the fire and its aftermath, the move could not come soon enough for Anne. The fear of betraying her true feelings for Edmund made her manner curt and unfriendly towards him.

  No news had come yet of the renovations at Melthorpe Hall, so Anne decided to ride over and see for herself what progress had been made. At least that would get her away from everything here for an hour or so! She had always loved Ashorne, but now its echoing corridors filled her with trepidation.

  After a brief hesitation she invited Kit to join her, mindful of the disastrous results of her broken promise last time. He accepted with glee and rode beside her, chattering excitedly all the way. Fortunately he appeared to expect little response from her, so Anne was free to concentrate on her own uncomfortable thoughts until they reached the hall.

  Looking round her she could see little change since her previous visit. Confusion still reigned throughout the building. There were odd piles of materials everywhere, but no signs of fresh work, except where more plasterwork and timbers had been torn out. Dust hung chokingly in the air where another inner wall had been demolished.

  Kit, with a whoop of delight, plunged into a heap of shavings. Anne left him rolling happily like a puppy while she sought out the carpenter, demanding to be told why there was so little to show for a week’s work. He listened to all her reproaches with studious calm.

  ‘That’s all very fine what you say, miss,’ he replied stolidly when she had finished, ‘but his lordship says we’re not to rush things. “Take your time, Bedford, and make a good job of it”

  was his very words to me, and that’s what I means to do.’

  ‘But he didn’t tell you to spend days and days doing absolutely nothing!’

  ‘Nor we haven’t, miss. While I’ve been waiting for the materials to come I’ve been measuring and drawing up plans for his lordship’s approval.’ As she snorted in disgust, he added, unruffled, ‘It makes sense, miss. Once you’ve calmed down you’ll admit it. The job may take longer this road, but if it’s done properly it’ll last a sight longer too.’

  ‘What is the use of that if we are all dead and buried before it is even begun! There must be something you could be getting on with!’

  ‘Not without timber, miss.’

  ‘Then re-use what you have taken out!’ She poked impatiently at the rubble by her feet.

  ‘See, this piece is sound—and this. Use them!’

  ‘His lordship says not, miss. We’re to wait for some decent stuff to be brought over from Ashorne.’

  No amount of argument would shake him, and the other workmen proved equally adamant.

  Anger, pleading, cajolement were all met with the same infuriating response; all her suggestions for short cuts countered with an impassive, ‘His lordship says not.’

  Eventually she gave up the struggle, convinced that if she heard those words once more she would scream. She gathered Kit up, shavings clinging to every inch of him, and ignoring his protests rode furiously home to have it out with Edmund. His orders ran too contrary to hers to be borne.

  Was he being deliberately obstructive? Trying to delay their removal to Melthorpe in order to keep Julia beside him? Surely not! To ensure that she remained he had only to propose marriage. Julia had made it abundantly clear that she would accept him, and once the marriage was arranged there would be no need for the expensive repairs at Melthorpe. Anne had no desire to live there alone. Why else should he put every obstacle in the way of their leaving Ashorne?

  Whatever his motives, he had no right to interfere: the Hall was Julia’s not his, and as Julia’s representative it was her place to negotiate with the workmen. After all, she and Julia would be living there, not Edmund. Why was she not able to arrange matters as she wished?

  It was intolerable. She would insist on being given a free rein!

  Anger feeding her determination, Anne resolved on prompt action. Once back at the manor, she flung herself off the horse and stalked indoors to settle the matter with Edmund at once. If the workmen would not listen to her then Edmund must.

  In the hall she halted. A faint chink of glass came from the library—the room Edmund had used as a retreat since he returned. He must be there now. Her resolution wavered a little.

  For a moment she hesitated, unsure whether it was better to confront him now while her anger was at fever pitch, or wait for it to cool when she might reason more carefully. One needed a clear head to deal with Edmund. Anger won, pushing her on.

  She reached for the doorknob, determined to act now while she was buoyed up by her fury, but before she could grasp it the door opened. Weston walked out, nearly colliding with her.

  Anne stepped back out of his way, amazed to see him there at that hour. He glared back.

  Later she was to remember how startled he had seemed in that first second, but just now she was too keyed up to confront Edmund to pay heed to anything else.

  ‘Is Lord Ashorne there?’ she demanded trying to see past the steward. ‘I wish to speak with him on an important matter.’

  ‘Unfortunately you are unable to do so,’ Weston told her, his composure soon regained.

  ‘He is not here.’

  She stared narrowly at the sneering face. Was it Julia then who had been entertaining him?

  The sound that had attracted her attention had undoubtedly been the chink of the glass decanter-top fitting back into place. She had heard that particular note too often in Thomas’s lifetime to be mistaken in it. Had Weston been drinking with Julia? What fresh devilment had they been toasting?

  ‘Then I will speak with my sister instead,’ she declared icily, determined not to waste the opportunity.

  ‘Unhappily, that too is impossible.’ Weston surveyed her boldly from head to toe before adding, ‘I see you are taking my advice. That green is far more flattering to you than the pastel colours your sister affects.’

  She coloured angrily, knowing that he was right. She had found out this old habit in the colour she knew to be a favourite of Edmund’s. Her hands tightened on her whip, tempted once more to lash out at him. He laughed.

  ‘That angry colour is most fetching as I told you before.’ With an effort Anne swallowed her rage. She had a strange suspicion that he was deliberately provoking her. But why?

  ‘Let me pass!’ she demanded acidly. ‘My sister shall hear of your impudence.’

  ‘If you must,’ he shrugged, ‘but she is not here.’

  As if to prove him correct, Julia came through the garden door into the hall. She stopped, frowning in annoyance, but whether at the sight of the steward or Anne, it was impossible to decide.

  ‘Whatever are you doing here, Phillip?’

  ‘Enjoying a chat with your young sister, but I came hoping for a word with you, your ladyship!’ Was it her imagination, wondered Anne, or was there the faintest hint of menace underlying his words?

  ‘I was on the point of leaving,’ he went on harshly, ‘thinking you must have forgotten!’

  Julia frowned, jerking her head in an almost imperceptible warning towards Anne. What was there between them? He must feel very confident of his position to speak so boldly to Julia. None of the other servants would dare. And he must have been whiling away the interval by sampling Edmund’s port, she thought contemptuously. That was the sort of petty dishonesty she might have expected from the fellow.

  ‘I can’t talk to you now,’ Julia exclaimed quickly, with another sidelong glance at her sister. ‘There’s barely time to dress for dinner as it is. Another time!’

  Turning tail, she hurried upstairs. Anne watched the steward curiously. Weston bowed his acceptance of the dismissal, but the tightness of his lips betrayed his anger as he stalked away. It tokened ill for Julia at their next meeting. The widow was courting trouble there, Anne feared, but let her deal with it herself. Anne had wasted too many years sorting out
her sister’s problems. If Julia did not want help then she would not force it upon her.

  Frustrated in her wish to see Edmund, and knowing better than to tackle Julia in her present mood, Anne too went upstairs to change her gown. The militancy had faded now.

  As she had anticipated, dinner was an uncomfortable meal. Julia had clearly still not forgotten their disagreement when her bluff had been called. She hated to be put in the wrong and, as ever, vented her resentment on the person who had disconcerted her. That the fault was her own only increased her pique. She turned her exquisitely gowned back on her sister, totally ignoring her, making the snub more pointed by the warmth with which she concentrated on charming their male companions.

  Perhaps to prove the validity of her claims to Edmund’s affection, she mounted a determined attempt to demonstrate her mastery over him. Gazing soulfully into his unresponsive eyes, she embarked on a campaign of eye-fluttering and breathy sighs that reminded Anne forcibly of Rosy’s performance in the play. It proved an unusually bad error of judgment on Julia’s part.

  However susceptible Edmund might have been to such tactics six years ago, they had little effect now except to render him more withdrawn and silent. When all her wiles proved vain, Julia pouted and gave up. With sudden volte face she switched her attention to James instead, presumably in the hope of compelling Edmund’s interest by jealousy as coquetry was unavailing.

  Predictably, James was an easier conquest. A fatuous grin spread over his features as he responded in an ecstasy of delight to her advances. Julia blossomed under his admiration, but if her aim was to rouse Edmund it failed. He shrank back into his chair, more grimly taciturn than ever.

  A discreet study of his expression convinced Anne that it was disapproval, not jealousy, that darkened his frown. She felt his eyes on herself as much as her sister, as if to judge her reaction to James’s blatant shift of affection. Colour heightened, she tried to pretend an ignorance of the tension in the room that she was far from feeling, as Julia’s attention swung back to Edmund.