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Blanchland Secret

Page 22

by Nicola Cornick


  Lebeter opened the bedroom door for her and she went in. Olivia was sitting up in bed, a clean white bandage around her head. She was chatting animatedly to Guy, who was leaning forward and smiling. Mrs Brookes knitted placidly beside the window. It was a charming family scene.

  Guy looked up and saw Sarah, and the smile died from his eyes. He got to his feet and gave her a formal bow.

  ‘Miss Sheridan. You are recovered, I see. I will leave you to talk for a little with Miss Meredith.’

  ‘Oh, do not hurry away!’ Olivia spoke impulsively. ‘It is quite delightful to have both my new-found relatives here together!’ She turned glowing eyes on Sarah. ‘Lord Renshaw has been telling me all about my mother’s family! I must own that it is almost too much excitement to take in at once!’

  Sarah mentally raised her eyebrows. Guy must have done an exceptionally good job to have presented the story to Olivia in a manner that caused no unhappiness or embarrassment. She only hoped that his father would be so positive. She could feel Guy’s sardonic gaze resting on her, reading her mind, almost challenging her to spoil Olivia’s happiness with caution.

  ‘I am glad to find you so much better, my dear,’ Sarah said, avoiding comment. ‘I was so very worried about you! When I heard you were missing—’

  ‘Oh, it was all most horrid and quite like a Gothic romance!’ Olivia shivered enjoyably, secure in the knowledge that she was now safe. ‘When I received your note—or rather, the note purporting to come from you—I hurried off without a second thought! Mrs Tom did counsel me to wait, but I am too impulsive, I suppose! Anyway, I remember reaching the tower and calling for you, and then I remember nothing more until I woke up here!’

  ‘Just as well,’ Guy said laconically. ‘I shall trust Lebeter to keep you from danger in future!’

  Olivia giggled and blushed. ‘I believe he was most disappointed that you had already dealt with Lord Allardyce! He told me he wished most strongly to plant him a facer!’

  ‘Quite understandable,’ Guy observed. ‘I will see you later, Miss Meredith! Do not tire yourself!’

  ‘Oh, no, I shall chat to Sarah for a little and then sleep,’ Olivia confided artlessly. ‘It has been so kind of you to spare me so much time, sir!’

  ‘If you call your aunt by her given name, I suppose you should address me by mine also,’ Guy said, making Sarah feel about a hundred years old. ‘That is, if you would feel comfortable doing so!’

  Olivia looked as though she had been given a present. ‘Oh, may I do so, Guy? That would be most agreeable!’ She looked from Guy to Sarah and back again. ‘And I can now congratulate you together on your happy news! I was never more delighted than when I heard!’

  Sarah knew that she was looking blank.

  ‘Miss Meredith is congratulating us on our betrothal, my love,’ Guy said, with gentle sarcasm. ‘Perhaps you could try to emulate her enthusiasm!’

  Sarah flushed. She had assumed that the last thing Guy would wish to do was marry her after her outburst the previous night, and certainly his cold behaviour to her had borne out such an opinion. The look he gave her was caustic, once more daring her to destroy Olivia’s illusions. Sarah bit her lip and held her peace. Now was not the time to attempt to explain to Olivia that the engagement was broken.

  ‘Before you go, you must tell us how you came to be here in time to rescue me,’ Olivia was saying, blissfully unaware of Sarah’s discomfiture. ‘You did not finish the story! You had gone to Woodallan…’

  ‘I am sure that Miss Sheridan does not wish to hear this,’ Guy said, with a smile for his niece that pointedly excluded Sarah. ‘I will finish the tale later, perhaps—’

  ‘On the contrary, sir,’ Sarah said coldly, ‘I am very interested. You may remember that I asked you the same question myself—last night!’

  ‘I remember!’ Guy’s dark eyes narrowed with comprehensive dislike. He resumed his seat. ‘Very well, the tale goes thus. I hastened back to Woodallan and was glad to find my father better than expected—surprised even, that I had received a message summoning me back home! It did not take Dr Johnson to see that someone had tricked me in order to get me out of the way!’

  Olivia giggled.

  ‘I turned around to come back to Blanchland immediately,’ Guy continued, ‘but my horse threw a shoe at Old Down, and whilst I waited for him to be shod, I heard an extraordinary tale. There was a closed carriage in the yard there, and two fellows passing the time drinking in the bar. It made them loquacious. Apparently they had come down from London at the behest of a noble lord…’ Guy paused. ‘They were joking about what a man would be doing with a closed carriage in the middle of the night in winter, but I could think of a very good reason.’

  Sarah noticed that Olivia had stopped smiling and her eyes were as huge as saucers. She looked like a small child who was being told a fairy tale. ‘Oh! What did you do, Guy?’ she whispered.

  ‘The landlord of the inn was most helpful in persuading the men to enjoy his hospitality a little longer,’ Guy said with a grin. ‘As far as I know, they are there still! I hastened back here as soon as my horse was ready. After that, it was a simple matter to don one of those ridiculous robes, wait until the…ah…service in the grotto was over, and force Lord Allardyce to tell me what he had done!’

  Olivia shuddered enjoyably. ‘And that horrible man, Marvell? What happened to him?’

  Guy’s gaze met Sarah’s. ‘He was…otherwise engaged, which was fortunate, since it meant that I did not need to deal with both of them at once!’

  ‘If you had only come to tell us of your return, my lord, I am sure Lord Lebeter would have helped you,’ Sarah said sweetly, unable to resist provoking him. ‘There was no need to play the hero all alone!’

  ‘I had no time,’ Guy said smoothly, only his gaze betraying his antagonism to her, ‘and I did not wish to alert Allardyce to my presence when he had gone to such trouble to remove me. Even you must understand that, Miss Sheridan, for do you not justify your own secrecy in this affair with the comfortable notion that you were protecting Olivia from Allardyce?’

  They glared at one another. It seemed that both had forgotten Olivia, over whose sickbed they now fought. Sarah’s gaze dropped to her niece’s startled face and read the apprehension there. Olivia was no fool and had already realised that she had in some way caused a rift between her new-found uncle and aunt.

  The look on her face gave Sarah pause. ‘Pray forgive us, Olivia,’ she said hastily. ‘Lord Renshaw and I have matters to discuss, but not here.’ She glanced towards the door and was relieved to see Justin Lebeter hovering on the threshold. ‘We will leave you now, for I see that Lord Lebeter is hoping for a little time with you.’

  She bent and kissed Olivia’s cheek, noticing that her niece’s eyes had lit up at the prospect of another visit from her beau. The squabble was already forgotten, but Sarah was ashamed of herself. She trod swiftly from the room, not waiting to see if Guy followed, and it was not until she had reached the door of her own room that she heard his quick steps behind her.

  ‘Miss Sheridan! A moment of your time, if you please!’

  Sarah swung round haughtily. ‘You wish to speak to me, Lord Renshaw?’

  Guy gave an ironic bow. ‘You said just now that we had matters to discuss. Let us discuss them!’

  ‘Downstairs—’ Sarah began, but Guy shook his head.

  ‘I would prefer some privacy,’ he said silkily, ‘and I have been in your room before, have I not?’

  Sarah blushed. He hardly needed to remind her, and she was sure he had done so simply to embarrass her.

  ‘Very well.’ She turned her back as though it was of no consequence to her whether or not Guy followed her into the room, but knew with a tingling sense of awareness that he had come in and closed the door behind them. When she turned back, he was standing with his arm resting on the mantelpiece and was watching her with a cool indifference that made Sarah feel oddly at a loss.

  ‘Well…’ he made a sligh
t gesture ‘…what did you wish to say to me?’

  Sarah knew he was making matters deliberately difficult for her. She looked into his closed face and her composure broke.

  ‘I am sorry! I know you are angry with me, but you must also know that I bitterly regret speaking as I did last night! But what was I to think? You had already told me of your father’s plans—plans you had concealed from me when we came to Blanchland—and then to find you skulking about the grounds…and Olivia injured…I acknowledge that I reacted strongly, but—’

  She knew that her appeal had failed even before Guy spoke. The look of cold withdrawal in his eyes did not fade. He looked at her with contempt.

  ‘You simply showed what was in your heart, Miss Sheridan! We had already stumbled through a comedy of errors, had we not—the misunderstandings over your reasons for coming here, the facts I concealed from you, the secrets you refused to tell me…I suppose it is as well to know that we do not trust each other—at least that way we have no illusions!’

  There was a frozen silence. Sarah felt as though her heart was breaking. She spoke hesitantly.

  ‘Then surely it is better to forget that our foolish betrothal ever existed? Since you feel we cannot trust one another, it would be an appalling error to compound the situation by our marriage.’

  They stood staring at one another for what seemed an age. Sarah was not sure what showed on her face; she almost broke down completely and pleaded for his forgiveness, begged for him to tell her that all would be well. Only the conviction that he would reject her held her silent. She remembered Guy’s kindness and his gentleness, and the fierce heat of his passion for her, and looked into his cold face and felt her heart wither.

  ‘You are mistaken, madam,’ Guy said, after what seemed like centuries. His face was taut with anger and dislike. ‘Not to go through with our marriage would be a greater error than that which has already occurred! I will not release you from the engagement, no matter how ill-starred it may be! When we were at Woodallan before, I made arrangements for the wedding to be held in the week after Christmas. The banns will have been read three times—and the marriage will take place!’

  Sarah paled. ‘You cannot mean to persist in this! It would be the most senseless act! I shall never agree!’

  Guy gave her a mirthless smile. ‘Unless you are prepared to stand up in church before my family and yours and refuse to marry me, you have no choice!’ He took her arm and forcibly propelled her into a chair. ‘Think about it, Sarah! In order to convince my father to accept Olivia, we shall need to act together. We cannot allow ourselves a show of disunity now! Worse, there is Allardyce to consider!’ He paced restlessly across to the window, then turned to look down into Sarah’s puzzled face.

  ‘But Allardyce can pose no threat now!’

  ‘No physical threat, perhaps, but think of the poisonous malice he can and will spread against both the Sheridan and Woodallan families! I know he has no proof positive of Olivia’s parentage, but he has seen her—he will draw his own conclusions! And I would wager a fortune that he is already spreading scandal about you and your cousin, and your presence here at Blanchland! Remember what happened only two nights ago! Were you to break our engagement, the damage would be appalling!’

  Sarah was silent. She could see the logic of his words, but equally inescapable was the misery of tying together two people who had so hurt each other that they could not be happy together. A lifetime was a very long time to be confronted by recrimination and broken dreams.

  ‘It will not be so bad,’ Guy said, and somehow his indifference was more painful for Sarah than ever his anger could have been. ‘You will have regained you place in society, after all, and I am sure you will make a gracious mistress of Woodallan.’

  It sounded quite chilling to Sarah. She wondered with despair how she could bear half a marriage when she still loved Guy, and knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she had already lost him before the knot was even tied.

  Chapter Eleven

  They left for Woodallan the following morning. Olivia was well enough to travel and her mother was also sufficiently recovered to contemplate the short journey with equanimity. It was slow going, for the roads were icy and pitted with holes, but eventually they rolled through the gates and disembarked with gratitude.

  Sarah felt both relief and discomfort in almost equal measure. Her apprehension about the imminent wedding was quite overshadowed by nervousness for Olivia, who was staring up at the house with awe and trepidation. Sarah also felt for Mrs Meredith, whose own concerns must include the worry of losing her daughter to relatives far grander than she could have anticipated.

  This time there was no welcoming party, just the Countess of Woodallan awaiting them in the panelled hall and looking almost as nervous as her guests. The generosity of her welcome could not be faulted, however, and she hugged Olivia with tears in her eyes and offered a very warm greeting to Mrs Meredith. A moment later, Guy’s two sisters and their families came flooding out into the hall, and in the general round of kisses and exclamations, the tension eased considerably. No one commented that the Earl was nowhere to be seen, but Sarah saw Guy draw his mother aside for a brief word, before he disappeared down the passage to the Earl’s study.

  The day dragged for Sarah, who had not expected Guy to spare any time for her but was nevertheless disappointed to be neglected. She thought of their bitter words the previous day and reflected that it was probably a state to which she would, through necessity, become accustomed. The Countess had given her the rose bedroom, in deference to her new position as Guy’s future bride, and Sarah felt a complete fraud as she sat in splendid isolation watching the short day fade to winter dusk. Greville Baynham rode in at nightfall, but, apart from a flurry of activity to greet his arrival, the house sat in a brooding silence, waiting for the Earl to make his decision.

  Guy and his father were the only members of the party missing when everyone assembled in the drawing-room for dinner that evening. The same tension was present as had been apparent earlier, as the family chatted amongst themselves and waited, with one eye on the door. The Countess checked the clock surreptitiously, well aware that dinner was spoiling. Olivia was almost white with anxiety and Sarah’s heart went out to her. Such a public meeting with her grandfather would be enough to daunt all but the strongest spirit and, if he chose to not acknowledge her, the humiliation would be crushing.

  Then the butler opened the door with a flourish and the Earl came in, leaning heavily on his son’s arm, a gold-topped cane grasped in his other hand.

  ‘Good evening,’ he said, the same sardonic glint in his eye that Sarah had often seen in Guy. ‘My apologies for keeping you all waiting. I wished to be seen at my best when greeting my new relative. Miss Meredith—’ the fierce glare softened as it rested on Olivia’s pale face ‘—pray come here.’

  Everyone seemed to be holding their breath. Mrs Meredith gave Olivia a little push, and she stepped forward to confront her grandfather, dropping a deep curtsy and allowing him to take her hand to raise her. The Earl’s dark gaze travelled over her face.

  ‘You are the image of your mother,’ he said gruffly, at length. ‘You are very welcome here, my dear.’

  Everybody sighed in unison and a brilliant smile lit Olivia’s eyes. The Earl offered her his arm and led her through into the dining-room, and Greville went up to Guy and clapped him on the back.

  ‘Well done, Guy! I knew you’d pull it off!’

  Justin Lebeter was shaking Guy’s hand and Mrs Meredith was wiping away a tear, whilst the Countess was smiling and talking to her in an undertone. Amelia came up to Sarah and put an arm around her. ‘Oh, Sarah, was that not wonderful! I can scarce believe that we are all one extended family now! Is it not extraordinary!’

  Sarah was conscious of Guy watching her across the room. She ignored her own heavy heart and smiled brilliantly.

  ‘Oh, it is delightful! I am so very happy for Olivia! Things have turned out so much better
than I had hoped!’

  ‘For all of us!’ Amelia said, giving Greville a ravishing smile as he came over to her to lead her into dinner. She gave Sarah a swift hug. ‘I am sure Olivia will always remember what you have done for her, Sarah! She has turned out to be most fortunate in all her relations!’

  There was a lump in Sarah’s throat. Self-pity, she told herself sternly, was the least attractive of emotions. Besides, it would achieve nothing. Guy had made his feelings for her plain, but she had no intention of making the rest of his family privy to the shaming truth.

  With a sinking heart, Sarah saw the Countess instructing Guy to take her in to dinner. Lord Lebeter was busy charming to Mrs Meredith, who looked utterly bowled over, and there was a feeling of amity amongst the guests that made Sarah feel like the spectre at the feast. Guy reached her side and sketched a careless bow.

  ‘Miss Sheridan, my mother suggests that I lead you into dinner.’

  Sarah did not know whether he was deliberately trying to annoy her with his perfunctory attitude, or whether he cared so little to please her that he could afford to be offhand. Either way, she did not intend to let her irritation show. She gave him a cool smile.

  ‘That would be quite appropriate, since we are betrothed, my lord!’ She took his arm lightly. ‘Come, let us not keep everyone waiting!’

  Guy paid her very little attention during the meal, confining his conversation to his sister Emma, who sat on his left. Sarah ignored this manfully, for her part maintaining an animated discussion with Justin Lebeter on her other side and with Guy’s sister Clara and her husband across the table. She was aware of more than one speculative glance as both Amelia and the Countess noted Guy’s neglect of her, but this just served to bring more colour to her cheeks and an angry but becoming sparkle to her eyes.

 

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