'You love your brother, dearly, don't you?'
'We do.' A tear sparkled upon India's lashes. 'We'd give anything to have him back to his old self, but we don't know how to help him.'
Gina felt the same, but she did not dare to say so. 'You've already done so much,' she insisted. 'Giles is managing your estate. It is the thing he likes best in the world.'
'It's something,' India admitted. 'But he is so proud. It's fortunate that Anthony is such a diplomat. Giles could not bear to live on charity.'
'But, India, that is not the case. Anthony thinks highly of your brother's expertise, and these inventions must change the face of farming in this country.'
'They might, if they were ever patented. Anthony has offered to back such a project, but Giles won't hear of it.' India looked at her companion's face. 'Tell me about Italy,' she demanded. 'It was there that something happened to my brother.'
Gina froze. She was silent for so long that India grew alarmed.
'My dear, you are so pale. Do you feel quite well?'
With an effort Gina recovered her composure. 'Forgive me! I have tried for so long to forget those dreadful times...'
'How thoughtless of me, Gina. Pray do not speak of them.'
'Yes, I must. It does not help to keep it all inside one's head. When Napoleon attacked conditions in Italy became chaotic. We were staying in the hills behind Naples. We had to get away, but the children were so young, and their mother suffered from a wasting disease. Sir Alastair himself was never strong...'
She paused then, but when she spoke again her voice was bitter.
'I doubt if you would recognise your fellow human beings, India, if you should see them in the grip of panic. We reached Naples with some difficulty. Several times we almost lost our coach and horses to other refugees. Then, at the harbour, we found that most of the boats were already filled, and by young men. It was the young and strong who were able to save themselves. Women and children and the old were trampled underfoot.'
'Oh, do not tell me that Giles took a place which might have been given to a woman.'
'No, Giles had left the week before. Your uncle sent for him in haste, he tells me.'
'But if all the berths were taken how did you manage to get away?'
'There was a vessel sailing for the Caribbean. I boarded as she docked. Then...er...I held the Master at gunpoint until the family was on board.'
'And you sailed with him? Weren't you afraid of being murdered when you were at sea?'
'Not in the least. I kept my pistols by me at all times, and gold was an added inducement to the fellow, with a promise of more when we reached Jamaica.'
India gasped. 'What an experience! You were little more than a child...'
Gina shrugged. 'One is forced to grow up fast when lives are at stake.'
'And...when you last saw Giles in Italy...did you sense anything amiss with him?'
'No. He came to the villa to bid Sir Alastair farewell before we left for the hills. Your brother was unchanged then.' Gina's heart ached as she recalled that final evening of happiness. She and Giles had promised each other that no obstacle would be allowed to stand in their way. The world was their oyster, Giles had said, and she had believed him.
'We...we had expected to see him on our return,' she continued. 'Sir Alastair relied on him so much, you see, but Giles was nowhere to be found. Then we learned that he had taken ship some days before.'
'Do you know why?' India enquired. She had noticed Gina's quivering lips, and her heart went out to her visitor. With Giles gone, the Whitelaw family must have felt abandoned in a foreign country with anarchy and chaos on all sides.
'My lady...India...you need not explain to me. I believe it was some family matter.'
'It was an emergency,' India told her softly. 'My uncle James sent for Giles in haste. He was needed here on the estate. There was a real danger that it would be lost to us without a strong hand at the helm. I won't go into details, but, believe me, it is true.'
'I never believed that Giles would desert us without good cause. Sir Alastair thought so highly of him, India. Giles did mention that he had sent a note of explanation to await our return to the villa, but we did not receive it...'
'That was unfortunate, but you tell me that events moved fast. Giles must have sailed from Naples before that final exodus turned into a rout.' India was silent for a time. 'Perhaps the change in him is caused by guilt. He would not learn of the horror of those final days until he returned to England. He must have wondered what had happened to you. I'm surprised that he didn't try to seek you out.'
India stole a look at Gina's face. She was aware that when Giles and Gina were together there was a certain tension in the air. Perhaps Gina believed him to be heartless.
Gina seemed to read her mind. 'He did, but we did not return to Scotland for some years. My family had no addresses for me... You must not blame him, India, I do not.'
'You are generous, my dear, but your life has not been easy. Shall you be happy here in Abbot Quincey?'
'I intend to be.' Gina's smile transformed her face. 'The girls have agreed to attend Mrs Guarding's Academy. In fact, I am on my way there now, to see if she has places for them.' Her eyes twinkled as she looked at India. 'You may think me indulgent, but I had to strike a bargain.'
'What was that?'
'More dancing lessons, that is, if your brother and Mr Newby will agree?'
'I'll pass on the message,' India promised. 'I think you may rely on them. When are they to present themselves?'
'Perhaps tomorrow, or the next day? I've warned the girls that we must not monopolise their time...'
'You are doing them a favour,' India laughed. 'By day they are not short of occupation, but of an evening we can offer only cards. I wonder...' she hesitated.
'Yes?'
'What do you say to a charity ball at the Assembly Rooms?'
Gina stared. 'Shall you wish to sponsor such an event? You are still in mourning, I believe.'
'It won't be frowned upon if it is intended to raise funds for those ill-used children in the northern mills.
My aunt Elizabeth is used to arrange these functions, but she is in London for her daughter's Season.'
'It's certainly a worthy cause, and I should be glad to help you, India.'
'I hoped you would. Come tomorrow, and we'll make out an invitation list. Would your mother and father care to attend, do you suppose? Mr Westcott has always been so generous in supporting us...'
'Nothing would give them greater pleasure,' Gina assured her warmly. 'They would be honoured...'
She was thoughtful as her carriage rolled away. Anthony could not have chosen a better wife, nor she a better friend. She'd been tempted to confide in India, but for the moment it was best not to give a full account of what had happened in Italy. She had not lied, but neither had she been entirely frank. She was still preoccupied as her carriage reached the outskirts of Steep Abbot.
Looking about her she decided that it hadn't changed in years. It was still the prettiest, if one of the smallest, of the local villages, set as it was beside the River Steep and surrounded by trees.
A request to see Mrs Guarding gained her entry to that lady's presence. Gina found herself under inspection from a pair of sharp blue eyes.
A brief nod was her only acknowledgement for some time, but Gina's tranquil expression did not change.
'Yes, my lady, what can I do for you?' Mrs Guarding said at last.
'My stepdaughters are in need of education,' Gina explained. 'Lord Isham recommended you.'
'Did he?' There was a slight thaw in Mrs Guarding's tone. 'How old are the girls?'
'Fifteen and sixteen, ma'am.'
'I see, and what have you in mind for them? Deportment, needlework, a little painting and sketching, perhaps?'
Gina knew that she was being needled, and she laughed.
'Nothing of the sort, Mrs Guarding. I want them to learn to use their minds. Philosophy and mathematic
s, that is what I want for them.'
Mrs Guarding gave Gina her full attention. This young woman's remarks were unexpected. It was time to reverse her initial impression. On the surface Lady Whitelaw appeared to be merely a fashionable hostess—a type of woman she despised. Clearly she was wealthy. Beneath the close-fitting spencer there was a glimpse of a fine silk gown. Mrs Guarding might scorn concessions to the latest mode, but even she could appreciate the skilled hand of a master cutter.
'Where have the girls been educated?' she demanded.
'I've taught them myself.' Gina could have laughed aloud at the expression on Mrs Guarding's face. 'Don't worry, ma'am, they are fluent in French and Italian, and they have some Urdu. Their knowledge of geography and history is good, but their skill with the needle leaves much to be desired.'
Mrs Guarding actually laughed aloud. Then she held out her hand. 'We shall deal together, Lady Whitelaw. Send me your girls. I'll give them some Greek and Latin too.'
'Thank you, ma'am,' Gina said meekly. 'Mair is a studious creature, but her younger sister is...er... irrepressible, I fear.'
'That is no bad thing, Lady Whitelaw. I like a child with spirit. It often denotes an acute intelligence. You need have no fear for them when they are in my care.' Mrs Guarding paused. 'You realise, of course, that I am considered a pernicious influence in these parts?'
Gina didn't attempt to deny it. 'So I've heard,' she said drily. 'You don't allow it to worry you, I think.'
'Certainly not. My teachers and I may be considered radical in our thinking, but we have a strict moral code.'
Gina make no comment.
'I have found it necessary to err on the side of morality. Our notions may be rigid, but how else can we counter accusations that education in a woman leads to immorality and grief?'
'That is nonsense!' Gina said briskly. 'I have no patience with such Gothic notions. Rather, one would suppose that a good education would cause a woman to think before she acted.'
Mrs Guarding smiled again. 'Have you never thought of teaching, Lady Whitelaw? I try to instil these ideas into my girls.'
'I'm honoured, Mrs Guarding, but my teaching has been confined only to my stepdaughters, and to myself of course.'
'That is a pity, ma'am. You are a natural teacher, I suspect. Bring your girls tomorrow then, and we shall make them welcome.'
Gina returned to Abbot Quincey well satisfied with the result of her expedition. Mrs Guarding had made no concessions either to her title or her wealth. Her manner was brusque, and her tone uncompromising, but there could be no doubt that she was a woman of sterling character. Poet, novelist, historian? Yes, she was all of these, as Anthony had suggested, but she was also a dedicated emancipationist. Mair and Elspeth could not be in better hands.
They were still unconvinced but on the following day they set out with her on the journey to Steep Abbot, cheered by the promise of a visit from Giles and Thomas Newby either on that day or the next.
Gina was thoughtful as her coachman turned back towards the Isham estate. Time was passing and the month of May was almost upon them. In September, unless she had persuaded Giles to offer for her, she must go to Brighton for a lengthy stay. It left her only this brief summer to overcome his scruples.
Her conversation with India had confirmed what she suspected. Giles still loved her. His affections were unchanged, but he had given up all hope of winning her. The ruin of their plans had tormented him all these years.
He must have suffered agonies of mind when he learned that she had married. Colour flooded her cheeks. Perhaps he believed that wealth and a title were all she cared for. That might account for his distant manner towards her. Sometimes it verged on rudeness.
She straightened her shoulders. He should know her better than that. If he didn't he was unworthy of her love. She was still the same Gina who had given him her arms, her lips, her heart, all those years ago.
On arrival at the Grange she was shown into the salon, with a promise that Lady Isham would not keep her waiting above a moment or two.
She was turning over the pages of the Ladies' Diary when the door behind her opened. Gina rose to her feet and turned round with a smile to find that Giles was standing in the doorway.
In that unguarded moment she had the final answer to her doubts. His smile lit up the room as he came towards her with his hands outstretched. Then memory returned and his hands fell to his sides. He gave her a formal bow.
'I beg your pardon, Gina. I was looking for my sister. I did not expect...I mean...'
'India will be down in a short time. I am to help her with her invitations to the charity ball. We thought of the Assembly Rooms...' Gina's heart was beating fast.
Giles managed a faint smile. 'Such a tide dignifies the ballroom at the Angel. What does Anthony say to this?'
'Anthony agrees to anything which will please his wife...' Lord Isham strolled into the room. 'Good morning, Gina. I am in your debt, my dear. India will be glad of your help in planning this event.'
'And I am in yours. Mrs Guarding has agreed to take the girls. I saw her yesterday...'
'What did you think of her?'
'I liked her very much.'
Anthony smiled. 'I guessed her to be a woman after your own heart. How did you persuade the girls?'
Gina looked a little guilty. Then she chuckled. 'Bribery, I fear. I had to promise them extra lessons in the waltz...' She glanced up at Giles. 'I hope that you don't mind. Mr Newby was so quick to offer...'
Giles bowed again, but he felt as if a sword had been twisted in his heart. Would this torment never end? Now he must watch his love again as she danced in Newby's arms. To refuse Gina's invitation would have been impossible without giving offence, especially as Anthony would be sure to override any of his claims to be too busy.
'At what time, ma'am?' he asked stiffly. 'Late afternoon, perhaps?'
Gina nodded and thanked him prettily before she was swept away by India into that lady's boudoir.
Isham sank into a chair and stretched out his long legs. 'Swallowed a poker, have you, Giles?' he teased. 'You are mighty formal with an old friend. Poor Gina! She might as well waltz with a broom handle...'
'Anthony...I have neither the time nor the inclination to give dancing lessons...'
'Really?' The heavy-lidded eyes inspected his face.
'Most men would jump at such an opportunity. All else aside, one could not wish for a better friend than Gina.'
'Believe me, I know her worth,' Giles replied in a low voice. 'Everyone must see it, in fact...' he swallowed a lump in his throat. 'In fact, Newby tells me that he intends to offer for her.'
'Does he, indeed? Will she take him, do you think?'
'I don't know!' Giles turned away in frustration. 'He has everything to recommend him, wealth, a noble family... Why should she refuse?'
'She might not care for him enough to wed him.'
'To date that hasn't been her first consideration,' Giles said bitterly. 'She married Whitelaw, didn't she?'
Isham was tempted into a sharp retort, but he held back the scathing words. He would not hit a man when that man was down, and Giles was suffering. That was all too clear.
'I think that you do not know the full circumstances,' he said quietly. 'Whitelaw offered Gina a marriage of convenience. His wife had died, and he was no longer young. He was concerned about the future of his daughters...'
Giles was startled out of his black mood. 'But.. .but Gina was so young. Why did she agree?'
'Gina is a realist. She has a head upon her shoulders, as well as a kindly heart. She loved the girls, and she was devoted both to Sir Alastair and his wife.' Isham smiled. 'I think I told you I was his supporter at the wedding?'
'Yes, I remember...'
'Until I met Gina I had misgivings. What do they say: "There is no fool like an old fool"? I thought that my friend might have been seduced by the charms of a young girl. I changed my mind when I met Gina. She justified Sir Alastair's faith in her.
'
'Then you are telling me that she was never his wife in the true sense?'
'Sir Alastair was old enough to be her father. His girls, he felt, would be charge enough for her, without adding to her burdens by leaving her with children of her own.'
Giles grew thoughtful. 'Perhaps I have been wrong about her. It was a shock to see her back in Abbot Quincey under such different circumstances.'
'She is still the girl she &as,' Isham said quietly. He would not pry, but he was pleased to see that Giles now looked more cheerful.
Meantime Gina was resolved that on this evening in particular, she would refuse to dance. The girls should have the young men to themselves, and she would play for them.
This worthy resolution was put to the test when Mair came over to the spinet and offered to take her place.
Gina waved her away, 'Do you carry on, my dear. I turned my ankle earlier today and it is still quite painful.'
Mair gave her a sideways look. 'You haven't mentioned it before.'
'I had no wish to make a fuss...'
Then Giles was beside her. 'Take my arm,' he said firmly. 'It's but a step out to the terrace. Did you not ask for my advice about your grounds?'
Gina took his arm. She made an unconvincing attempt to hobble, but he stopped her.
'Don't worry!' he said quietly. 'I know that you have no wish to dance with me. I don't blame you, Gina. I owe you an apology.'
He cleared his throat, but Gina did not look at him.
'I have misjudged you,' he went on quickly. 'I had imagined... Oh, Gina, I have been so bitter! I deserve to be horsewhipped.'
She heard the anguish in his voice and it destroyed her. Blindly, she reached out a hand to him.
Then suddenly she was in his arms and he was raining kisses on her brow, her cheeks, her eyes. Lifting her face to his, she offered him her lips.
Chapter Eight
For Gina her lover's passionate embrace wiped away all the years of loss and longing, but the mouth which sought her own rested only briefly on her yielding lips.
Mr Rushford's Honour Page 10