Blanchland Secret

by Nicola Cornick

  ‘No, indeed!’ Olivia shuddered. ‘I am sure that we may stay with Tom a little longer. I am sorry for the delay, Sarah, but I am sure Mama will be recovered directly.’

  The grandfather clock in the hall struck one. Olivia was yawning and Sarah felt quite exhausted. She stood up. ‘I should not keep you any longer, Olivia, for you look quite done up! Oh, but there is something I must return to you!’

  Sarah reached across for her cloak and dug deeply into the pocket. Olivia’s note and the locket were still there. Sarah took it out and handed it to her niece.

  ‘You will be wanting this back, for it is very pretty. Do you know where it came from, Olivia?’

  Olivia wrinkled her brow. ‘I thought…that is, I have had it since I can remember and I rather thought that it was a present from my father, but—’ She broke off, uncertain, watching Sarah’s face. ‘Am I mistaken, then? It is just that I look so very like him—like the man in the picture!’

  Sarah hesitated. It was understandable that Olivia would think the locket a gift from the Sheridan side of the family, but she knew that it had never been one of their heirlooms. On the other hand, so strong a resemblance to the Woodallans could hardly be by chance. Sarah took a deep breath.

  ‘I wondered whether the locket was from your mother,’ she said carefully.

  The colour flooded Olivia’s face in a huge wave. ‘Oh! I cannot believe so! I do not know who my mother was, but I understood her to be a servant or—’ she stopped, and finished poignantly ‘—I hoped you might be able to tell me, Sarah!’

  Sarah did not think twice but went across and hugged her. ‘I do not know who told you that she was a servant, Olivia, and even were it true it would not matter! We know your father was my brother, and that makes you a Sheridan, but now I have seen the locket, I may be able to find out who your mother was as well. Be patient—I will do what I can!’

  Olivia hugged her back hard. ‘It is enough that I have found you, Sarah! More than enough, for I cannot believe my good fortune!’

  Sarah swallowed the huge lump in her throat and let her go. ‘It is nice for me to have family, too! Now, does Tom have some cunning plan to spirit you out of the house again?’

  Her niece wrapped herself up in her cloak once more. ‘I must go down to the servants’ door and he will be waiting!’ The spark of excitement rekindled in her eyes. ‘This is all very dramatic, is it not?’

  ‘Very,’ Sarah agreed, wondering if it was her age that left her preferring a slightly more mundane existence. ‘Surely Tom does not expect you to descend the main stair, though? I am disappointed in the man! I had pictured a far more ingenious scheme!’

  She moved towards the door. ‘I will go first and check that the coast is clear. Keep well hidden over the next few days, Olivia, and if you have need of me, send word by Tom. As soon as your mama is well enough to travel, we shall be away to Bath!’

  She kissed her niece on the cheek. ‘Now, take care and I will see you soon, for we have much to discuss!’

  She watched as her niece sped away down the stairs and was swallowed up in the shadows. The servants’ door closed behind her with a soft click and Sarah turned back to her room. It seemed very quiet without Olivia’s bright presence. Sarah sighed. She had a lot to think about, but she was too tired to make sense of it now. Wearily she prepared for bed, and was almost instantly asleep.

  Sarah woke late, roused only by the tap on her door as Amelia came in bearing a breakfast tray.

  ‘You are very wise to stay in your room, my dear!’ she greeted her cousin cheerfully. ‘Sir Greville has already been quizzing me about last night’s escapade and I thought Lord Renshaw would dispense with the proprieties and march in here to demand an explanation!’ She saw Sarah’s look of alarm. ‘Oh, I have told him nothing, but the tale of insomnia is wearing a little thin and anyway…’ she put the tray down on the end of the bed ‘…I wish to know myself what is going on! Do try this fresh bread,’ she added, pushing a plate towards her cousin. ‘I have taught the cook bread-making and this is her first attempt! Not bad, I think!’

  Sarah sat up and pulled the tray toward her. There were rolls with butter and honey and the most delicious-smelling cup of chocolate.

  ‘What do you wish to know, then?’ she asked with her mouth full.

  ‘Why, everything!’ Amelia looked affronted. ‘You have an unknown niece whom you were to meet at the Folly Tower last night! Tell me about that, for a beginning!’

  Whilst she ate her breakfast, Sarah slowly recounted the whole of Olivia’s story, from Churchward’s visit to the surprise of finding her waiting in her room the previous night. The only part she left out was her suspicions of Guy’s conduct and Olivia’s speaking resemblance to the Woodallan family. That felt too personal to share, even with Amelia, but Sarah was beginning to realise that she would have to sort the matter out with Guy, and soon. When she had finished, Amelia gave a heavy sigh.

  ‘That loathsome man, Allardyce! Can we not spirit Miss Meredith away from here at once, Sarah?’

  Sarah shook her head slowly. ‘I wish we could do so, Milly, but Mrs Meredith will scarcely entrust her daughter to strangers! I fear we must just wait patiently for a few days, difficult as it is!’

  Amelia stood up and picked up the tray. ‘Well, I have my tasks to complete to help me pass the time! We hope to finish cleaning the bedrooms today.’ She looked around and wrinkled up her nose. ‘I wonder that you can breathe in here for all this dust, Sarah!’

  After her cousin had gone, Sarah got up and dressed slowly, thinking about what she should do next. Frustrating as it was, she felt inclined to say nothing to Guy about Olivia. The fewer people who knew that she had met Miss Meredith, the better. She did not like the concealment, but it was better than risking Allardyce hearing of Olivia’s whereabouts. Eventually, of course, she would have to speak to Guy. As soon as anyone saw Olivia they would realise that she must be related to the Woodallan family, and Sarah needed to know the truth before that happened. Her heart was heavy when she thought of confronting him.

  Sarah was determined that she would not spend the enforced wait in moping about the house. It was a bright morning with crisp snow and she walked down to the lake, finding Tom Brookes in the old tumbledown summerhouse that sat by the shore.

  ‘Morning, Miss Sheridan!’ he greeted her cheerfully. ‘Is all well?’ He was cleaning a pair of skates, evicting a family of spiders that had evidently taken up residence inside the boots, and polishing the steel runners to a shine.

  ‘All’s well with me,’ Sarah said with a smile. ‘And your own family, Tom? Your extended family?’

  Tom gave her a shrewd look. ‘Some improvement this morning, I’m glad to say, ma’am! I don’t think it will be long—’ He broke off as Guy Renshaw came through the door. ‘Good morning, my lord! These will be ready for you directly!’

  Sarah found herself blushing, and shrank back a little into the hut’s shadowy interior. She was uncertain whether it was guilt or nerves that prompted the reaction, or simply the fact that Guy always seemed to have this regrettable effect on her. He noted her presence with a quick lift of the eyebrows.

  ‘Miss Sheridan! Did you intend to go skating as well, ma’am?’

  ‘That would be very pleasant,’ Sarah said primly. ‘It is too fine a day to stay indoors!’ She turned to Tom Brookes. ‘Perhaps you would be so good as to polish my own skates when you have finished Lord Renshaw’s, Tom? They are old, but I hope they will still fit!’

  ‘And in the meantime, you could come tobogganing with me, Miss Sheridan!’ Guy said persuasively. ‘Tom has already made the sledge shipshape and I am inclined to try it on the long hill beyond the house!’

  He picked the sledge up with a word of thanks to Tom, and stood aside for Sarah to precede him out of the hut. The sun was bright on the snow. Sarah blinked a little.

  ‘Tobogganing is all very well when one is a child of ten, my lord—’

  ‘But for a lady of your advanced
years it is quite beneath your dignity?’ Guy grinned at her. ‘For shame, Miss Sheridan! I thought you had more spirit than that!’

  ‘It is not that!’ Sarah hesitated. In truth the thought of the enforced intimacy of the small sledge and the exhilaration of the flight downhill was quite exciting, but she could hardly explain that to Guy.

  ‘I should enjoy it, I am sure, but—’

  ‘But it is scarce ladylike!’ Guy was shaking his head in mock dismay. ‘It is a pity to see you so trammelled about with rules and conventions! Take a risk, Miss Sheridan!’ He gave her a teasing look. ‘You are willing enough to do so under other circumstances!’

  Sarah knew that he must mean her midnight rendezvous with Olivia and a rush of apprehension caused her steps to falter. She had known it would only be a matter of time before he challenged her on last night’s activity and she dreaded it. The necessity of lying—or at least omitting certain facts—was quite alien to her nature.

  However, it seemed that Guy did not intend to quiz her just yet. They had reached the top of the long field that tumbled down the hill towards Blanchland village and he put the toboggan down and gave it an experimental push. The polished runners slid across the snow with a smooth hiss.

  ‘There! That seems to work well enough! And if you will not join me, Miss Sheridan…’ Guy shrugged, folded his long body inside the little sleigh, and pushed himself off down the slope.

  Sarah found that she was laughing spontaneously as she watched his progress down the hill. At the bottom he stood up, dusted some stray snow off his jacket and picked the sledge up as calmly as though he were walking into some drawing-room. Sarah was still laughing as he reached her side, barely out of breath from his climb.

  ‘Oh, that looks prodigious good fun, my lord, if a little dangerous! If the London hostesses could see you now, your sophisticated reputation would be quite undone!’

  ‘I trust you to tell no one!’ Guy agreed. His fair hair was tousled by the breeze and his eyes were bright with laughter. ‘You see how much I am in your power, Miss Sheridan! Come now, admit that you would like to try it, too!’

  ‘Well…’ Sarah hesitated. It was very tempting. She glanced round. Blanchland Court was all but hidden by a dip in the hill and the village looked very far away.

  ‘No one would see you,’ Guy continued, reading her mind. ‘Besides, what do you care for the foolish rules of society? If one cannot enjoy oneself…’

  ‘You are very persuasive, my lord!’ Sarah’s eyes were sparkling at the prospect. She felt reckless, as though she was behaving like a naughty child, and it was very stimulating.

  ‘I will steer,’ Guy went on, ‘and you may sit before me and admire the view!’

  Sarah drew back a little. ‘But surely there cannot be room for both of us in that little toboggan! And it would be so—’

  ‘So enjoyable!’ Guy agreed, with a wicked smile. His dark eyes challenged her. ‘Well, Miss Sheridan? Do you join me or not?’

  He climbed into the sledge, holding out a hand to help Sarah sit in front of him. She was surprised to find that he was correct; the sledge was quite roomy and she could curl up, tucking her skirts about her in a way that was almost decorous and soothed her fears about preserving the proprieties. She had just started to feel better, when Guy put his arms about her.

  ‘What on earth—’

  ‘I cannot steer unless I reach about you, Miss Sheridan,’ Guy said innocently. ‘For shame, to suspect me of other motives!’

  Sarah hesitated. She could hardly draw back now, but the small space that she had managed to preserve between their bodies was now to no avail. After a moment she tentatively allowed him to slide his arms about her waist, whilst still trying to lean forward and away from him. Guy laughed.

  ‘Very modest, Miss Sheridan, but hardly effective! Move a little closer to me so that I may steer properly—I promise not to accuse you of compromising me!’

  Sarah edged closer to him. The material of his coat brushed her hair and she was astounded at the urge she suddenly felt to snuggle closer still and press herself against him. She could smell the mingled scent of fresh air and Guy’s lemon cologne and it was decidedly intoxicating. Alarmed by her body’s peculiar reaction, Sarah was about to pull away when they set off down the hill.

  It was breathtaking. The speed built up quickly and the wind burned her cheeks with an icy chill. Sarah almost cried out with the exhilaration of it, her excitement given an edge by the thought of how very badly she was behaving. Then, suddenly, the bottom of the hill rushed up towards them and they skidded into a snow drift and overturned. Winded, dazed for a moment, Sarah lay still and looked upwards through the bare lacy branches of a tree at the blue sky overhead.

  ‘Sarah?’ Guy’s fingers were icy on her cheek, his expression concerned as he leaned over her. ‘Are you much hurt?’

  Sarah drew a shaky breath. ‘I think not.’ Her gaze took in the snow all over his coat and a smile started to curve her mouth. She raised a hand to brush the powdering of white out of his ruffled hair. Guy caught her hand in his. The concern had died from his eyes, leaving an intensity that was far more disturbing.

  ‘Sarah, you have snow in your eyelashes…’

  Sarah’s eyes fluttered closed as he bent over and gently brushed the ice from her face. A second later, when he took her mouth with his, she felt as though she were melting in exactly the same way as the snow. A shaken sensation swept over her that had nothing to do with her abrupt descent into the snowdrift. Her fingers grazed the rough stubble of his cheek, then tangled in his hair.

  Neither of them noticed the discomfort of their surroundings. Sarah knew enough now to realise that Guy was exercising considerable restraint in his kiss, and paradoxically, the knowledge made her want to provoke him into losing his control. She wriggled further beneath him, pulling him closer, pressing her body against his. A groan broke from his lips and he raised his head to look down into Sarah’s eyes, his own glittering with a barely repressed desire.

  ‘Sarah…’

  Sarah knew that she had incited this ruthless passion and she revelled in the knowledge, giving him back kiss for kiss. It was only when a fall of snow tumbled from the branches above that Sarah was recalled to reality by the ice slipping down her neck.

  ‘Oh!’ She sat up and tried to brush down her coat. Guy had got to his feet and was viewing the scuffled snow with rueful amusement.

  ‘I must choose somewhere more comfortable next time!’

  Sarah blushed. ‘Do not presume that there will be a next time, sir!’

  Guy gave her a quizzical look. He picked her up easily and set her on her feet, keeping an imprisoning arm about her. Sarah struggled.

  ‘Let me go!’

  ‘You were not so eager to escape a moment ago!’

  ‘Oh!’ Sarah blushed even more with vexation. ‘You are so—’

  ‘I know.’ Guy kissed her hard on the mouth and let her go. ‘There! Let me help you rub that snow away. You look as though you have been rolling on the ground!’

  Sarah gave him a fulminating look. ‘I think it best if you escort me back to the house now, my lord!’

  ‘Certainly, if you wish all Sir Ralph’s guests to draw the same conclusions,’ Guy said agreeably. ‘I thought it unlikely I could persuade you to another descent of the hill!’ He smiled at her. ‘Admit that it was enjoyable, though!’

  Sarah felt an answering gleam tug at her mouth. ‘It was—quite exhilarating, my lord!’

  Guy held the field gate open for her and they started to walk along the tree-lined path back towards the house.

  ‘And yet you still refuse to marry me,’ he mused. ‘You have an unusually obstinate disposition, Miss Sheridan!’

  Sarah looked at him. ‘When I spoke of enjoyment I was referring to the tobogganing, my lord!’

  ‘And the rest?’

  There was a disquieting gleam in his eyes. Sarah looked away. ‘A strong…physical attraction is hardly a good basis for marriag
e, my lord!’

  Guy nodded. ‘Well, surprisingly I would agree with you, at least in the sense that I believe it is only one important part of a good marriage! There are other qualities—a like-minded approach to life, perhaps, an enjoyment of similar interests—that may sound less exciting but are equally rewarding.’

  Sarah sighed. Once again he had not mentioned love, which only served to prove to her how right she had been in refusing him. She felt hollow with disappointment.

  ‘There are other things I would look for in a husband,’ she said, more hotly than she had intended. ‘Honesty and trust—’

  Guy’s glance was suddenly bright. ‘Brave words! So, Miss Sheridan, what were you doing at the Folly Tower last night?’

  Sarah stopped, neatly hoist by her own petard. She had been thinking of Guy’s secret quest to find Olivia first, and had given no thought to her own actions. She bit her lip.

  ‘Well, Miss Sheridan?’ Guy’s tone was scrupulously polite. ‘Surely you do not advocate qualities in others that you do not espouse yourself?’

  Sarah realised how badly she had miscalculated. Guy’s demeanour was generally so agreeable that it was easy to forget the core of steel that lay beneath the even-tempered exterior. Now, however, she was forcibly reminded. He was looking singularly intractable.

  ‘I went to the Folly Tower to meet with Miss Meredith,’ she said candidly.

  ‘I see.’ Guy pushed his hands into his coat pockets. His expression was inscrutable. ‘So that farrago of nonsense you enacted last night was all for our benefit?’

  Sarah did not allow that to provoke her. ‘I had not explained the whole matter to Amelia and I assumed—’ she shot him a quick look ‘—that Sir Greville was not party to the situation. I could not see the benefit in rehearsing the whole there and then!’

  Guy let that pass. ‘How did Miss Meredith contact you?’

  ‘She sent me a note.’