by Anne Herries
‘Oh…no, of course not,’ Arabella replied, giving herself a mental shake. She was being ridiculous. She must not dwell on her doubts—she had no true reason to suspect Ralph, though she wished now that she had not instructed that the dates be thrown away.
Arabella went in to Tilda’s room before leaving that evening. The companion was feeling better, but sorry for herself because she was obliged to miss the long-awaited treat of going to Vauxhall.
‘We shall attend the theatre tomorrow,’ Arabella said to cheer her. ‘I dare say you will be well enough to accompany us, Tilda. Rest tonight and we shall see how you go on in the morning.’
‘It was my own fault for eating so many dates,’ Tilda said. ‘They were very rich. I shall not do it again.’
Arabella nodded and went out to join her aunt. They were travelling to the pleasure gardens in their own carriage and would meet their friends there. Arabella was wearing a new gown of silver gauze with a deep blue underskirt. She had had her hair dressed high at the back of her head with two shining ringlets allowed to fall on her shoulder, and she carried a fine silk shawl for when the air began to cool. At the moment it was a pleasure to be outdoors in the sultry August night.
The lovely gardens were overflowing with ladies and gentleman strolling here and there, and it was a few minutes before they saw their friends standing by a booth that sold various trinkets. Artists trying to make their way in the world often took a booth there in the hope of attracting a patron, and it was at one of these that they saw Harry and Melinda engaged in buying a picture. Arabella felt an odd fluttering sensation in her stomach as she realised that Charles Hunter was one of the party. She took a deep breath, schooling herself not to show the sudden rush of excitement she had felt on seeing him. It was quite foolish of her, because she knew that he meant to offer her nothing but friendship.
‘Lady Arabella, good evening,’ he said as she approached. Her heart leapt as he smiled at her. ‘You look very well this evening. That gown is most becoming.’
‘Thank you, sir. I must admit that it is a new one.’
‘Your seamstress is to be congratulated,’ he said. ‘Melinda has just purchased a picture for her country house. Do you share her interest in art, ma’am?’
‘Yes, very much,’ Arabella replied. She felt a little breathless, though she was trying to be sensible. Mr Hunter was merely making polite conversation. ‘We share many interests. Melinda is one of my closest friends.’
‘It was a happy chance that brought you to town at the same time.’
‘Yes, indeed.’ Harry and Melinda had completed their purchase, and, after greeting the newcomers to their party, had wandered on towards the supper booths. Arabella lingered a few moments longer on the pretence of examining a water-colour. She waited until the others had moved away a little before turning to him. Music was playing at a distance, pleasant but not sufficiently loud to make conversation difficult. ‘You offered to help me, sir—may I call on you for advice one day soon?’
‘Yes, certainly,’ Charles said and offered her his arm. ‘Do you wish to discuss the problem now?’
‘No, not this evening,’ Arabella said with a little frown as Melinda looked back at them, clearly wondering where they were. ‘What I have to tell you is of a serious nature or I would not ask for your help—but perhaps you might take me driving one day in the park?’
Charles studied her in silence for a moment, realising that she was truly anxious about something. ‘Yes, certainly. I should be delighted. In the morning at about ten?’
‘That would be wonderful,’ Arabella said, her frown disappearing. She felt so much better now that she had decided to share her anxieties. ‘I may be letting my imagination run away with me, but I am worried and there is no one else I may discuss this particular problem with, sir.’
‘Then I shall be delighted to help,’ Charles said. ‘Ah, here comes Hernshaw. He means to ask if you will dance, I imagine—perhaps you will give me the honour a little later?’
‘Yes, thank you,’ Arabella replied. She smiled as Captain Hernshaw came up to them. Like Charles Hunter, he was very good looking and dressed in the height of fashion. Both men of distinction, they embodied all the qualities of true English gentlemen. ‘Good evening, sir. It is very warm, is it not?’
‘Very,’ he replied. ‘Not too warm to dance, I hope? They are about to begin the entertainment.’ His eyes dwelled on her face. ‘I have been looking forward to securing a dance with you this evening, Lady Arabella.’
‘I shall dance with you later, Captain,’ Arabella said, ‘but for the moment I believe Melinda wants me.’
She left the two gentlemen to exchange a few words of greeting and went to join her friend, who had lingered outside the booth to wait for her as the others went inside.
‘Is everything all right, Belle?’ Melinda asked. ‘You looked quite serious as you were talking to Mr Hunter just now.’
‘Yes, everything is fine,’ Arabella said. ‘What a pretty gown you are wearing, Melinda. Is it one of your new ones?’
‘Yes, it is,’ her friend said looking pleased. ‘But yours is beautiful. Is it the gown you ordered when we visited the seamstress together?’
‘Indeed, it is,’ Arabella agreed, linking arms with her as they went into the booth where a cold collation of wafer-thin ham and various accompaniments had been laid for them. ‘This looks delicious, Mel. I am so glad that you invited me this evening. I am looking forward to dancing—and to the fireworks later.’
‘Captain Hernshaw asked especially if you would be here,’ Melinda answered with a sly look. ‘He is very taken with you, dearest Arabella. I think you have found yourself an admirer.’
‘Captain Hernshaw is a friend,’ Arabella said with a little shake of her head. ‘You must not think it more—for my part at least.’
‘Oh…’ Melinda looked disappointed, but then her eyes fell on Mr Hunter and she saw that he was watching Arabella intently. She smiled because, although she favoured her brother-in-law’s suit, all she truly wanted was for her dear friend to be happy. And it would distress her to see Arabella live alone for the rest of her life. She was young and beautiful and she ought to be happily married, as Melinda was herself. ‘Ah, I see…well, I shall not tease you, Belle, but I do expect you to ask me to be matron of honour at your wedding.’
‘No, no, there is nothing of that nature.’ Arabella shook her head at her friend, but Melinda’s expression was mischievous and there was no time to say more for the gentlemen had joined them.
They seemed to be on excellent terms, talking of a new fencing master that they were patronising, and of their pleasure in becoming skilled in all the finer points. However, when they joined the ladies, the conversation turned, moving to the latest fashions from France and a new production that was now running at Drury Lane Theatre.
‘We have made arrangements to see it tomorrow,’ Arabella said. ‘They say that Mr Edmund Kean has brought a more natural form of acting to the stage. Many people prefer his style to that of Mr Kemble.’
‘I think that Mr Kean is at his best when performing Shakespeare,’ Captain Hernshaw said. ‘His Shylock was a marvellous thing.’
‘Then I look forward to tomorrow even more.’ Arabella smiled as he offered to refill her champagne glass. ‘No, thank you, sir—not if we are to dance.’
‘But assuredly we are to dance,’ he said and stood up, offering her his hand with gallantry.
Arabella took it and let him lead her out to where other couples had begun to dance under the starlight. As they took up their positions, she glanced back at Charles Hunter. He was watching them, but she was too far away to read the expression in his eyes.
Chapter Four
Afterwards, Arabella always wondered what had made her wake so suddenly. She had gone to sleep almost as soon as her head touched the pillow that night, drifting off with the sound of music and fireworks in her ears. It had been such a pleasant evening at Vauxhall. She had danced twice wi
th Captain Hernshaw and once with Mr Hunter. She had enjoyed herself with both partners, but only one had caused her heart to behave in the oddest manner. For a moment as she woke it was the memory of that dance that held her, making her sigh—but then she became aware of something. It was an odd sound, a little whimpering cry…like a child or someone hurt.
Jumping out of bed, Arabella lit her candle and then pulled on a dressing robe lying nearby. She went out into the hall, pausing for a moment, waiting, and then the cry came again. It seemed to come from the hall below. Walking to the head of the stairs, she used her candle to light a branch of candles that stood on a side table just there. Holding them aloft, she looked down and saw a huddled figure lying at the bottom of the stairs. She knew at once that it was her aunt.
‘Aunt Hester!’ Arabella ran down the stairs, standing the branch of candles on a table as she bent over the hunched figure of her aunt. Her heart was beating rapidly, for she sensed that something was very wrong here. ‘Are you hurt badly, dearest? What happened?’ She knelt down, helping Lady Tate into a sitting position.
‘I…I am not sure,’ Lady Tate said and gasped as if in pain. ‘I must have fallen. My wrist hurts and I have twisted my leg under me. I do not know if I can get up.’
‘I shall wake the servants at once.’
‘No! Try to help me yourself,’ her aunt said. ‘Please, my dear. I do not think anything is broken, Arabella. My wrist is painful and I cannot rise without help, but I would rather not wake the servants at this hour.’
Arabella assisted her as she attempted to stand. It was difficult and clearly painful for Lady Tate to put her left foot to the ground. However, after a few minutes she steadied and then begged Arabella to help her return to her room.
‘Should I not send for the doctor, Aunt?’
‘I would prefer that you didn’t, at least until the morning, and then only if I need him. It was just a little fall, my dear. I got up to fetch a book and paused at the head of the stairs. I think I must have turned dizzy or missed my footing in the dark.’
‘Did you not bring a candle?’ Arabella was puzzled for she had not seen any sign of a chamberstick, which ought to have been lying on the floor nearby if her aunt had dropped it.
‘No, I thought I should see well enough without one,’ Lady Tate said. ‘So foolish of me.’
She leaned on Arabella’s arm as they slowly mounted the stairs. Arabella could feel her trembling. The fall had clearly shaken and upset her, and Arabella sensed that her aunt was holding her emotions firmly in check. Once they were inside Lady Tate’s room, where several candles had been left burning, she closed the door and looked at her.
‘And now, if you please, Aunt, you will tell me the truth.’
‘I was afraid someone might hear what we said,’ her aunt confessed ruefully—she had known that Arabella would not be fooled. ‘I did have a candle, Arabella. I believe someone took it after I fell—and I believe that person pushed me as I hesitated at the head of the stairs.’
‘Oh, Aunt Hester, no!’ Arabella had feared something of the sort since finding her lying at the foot of the stairs but she had not wanted to admit it, even to herself. She had hoped that she was mistaken, for it was too awful to contemplate. ‘Do you have any idea who it might be?’
‘I am not sure…’ Lady Tate sat down on the edge of her bed. Her hands were shaking as she pressed them to her cheeks in distress. ‘I do not want to believe it, Arabella—but I think it may have been—’ She broke off with a little sob. ‘No, no, how could it be? I know he has not been the best of…’ Her eyes were wide and frightened as she looked at her niece. It was almost as if she were begging to be reassured that she was mistaken. ‘Ralph told us he was going down to the country…’
‘Yes, he came purposely to tell us,’ Arabella said, hesitating for a moment, then, ‘I am sorry to say it, Aunt, but I do not trust him. I do not like to think it, but it could have been my cousin. And it is so odd that it happened tonight after he said he was leaving town, though I suppose he might have sneaked back in while we were out this evening and hidden in the house. If he did, he must have come the back way, through the gardens—and without the servants seeing him. If he went to so much trouble, his purpose cannot have been honourable. Yet how could he have known you would leave your room to go down and fetch a book?’
‘I always keep one by the bed in case I wake and cannot sleep,’ Lady Tate said carefully, as if considering each word. ‘This evening when we came up it had disappeared. I thought it odd, but I did not bother to fetch another for I thought I should sleep. And I did sleep. But then something woke me. I think someone was in my room. I felt something…a breath…a touch of air on my face as if someone bent over me. I was frightened and I cried out. For a moment there was silence—and then a floorboard creaked and the door closed. At first I hardly dared to move, but then I got up, lit my candles and looked about me. I went out into the hall. I could see no one, but I sensed that someone was in the darkness watching. And I felt that Ralph had been in my room, that he was there somewhere. I could faintly smell that distinctive pomander he wears on his hair. I paused at the head of the stairs and called his name…’
‘Oh, Aunt, why did you not summon your maid?’
‘I did not wish to cause a disturbance. I stood there for a few seconds wondering what to do. I was not sure whether to light all the candles and ring for assistance—and then someone pushed me. I fell and struck my head on something; for a few moments everything went black. When I came to myself the house was in darkness—my candle, which I had placed on the table at the head of the stairs, had gone.’ She looked at Arabella in distress. ‘I must be going mad, mustn’t I? Ralph wouldn’t…he couldn’t…’
‘I do not wish to hurt you, Aunt Hester,’ Arabella said, reaching for her hand, ‘but I do not think it beyond my cousin to attempt to harm you.’ She saw the grief in her aunt’s eyes and realised how painful this must be for her to accept. ‘Forgive me, dear Hester. Perhaps I am wrong. Yes, I dare say I am mistaken.’
‘No, I think you are right,’ Lady Tate said and closed her eyes for a moment as if she found the truth too hurtful to contemplate. ‘My husband was not a good man, Arabella, and Ralph takes after him. They have both done things of which I cannot approve and I believe I spoiled my son when he was a child. He has violence in him. I have heard stories of his ill treatment of his horses and his servants. These things come back, whether one wants to hear them or not.’ She raised fearful eyes to her niece. ‘He wants me dead because I will not sell the house and give him the money. What am I to do?’
‘It is clear to me that you are not safe here alone.’ Arabella hesitated, and then, ‘I believe he will have left town by now, having established his intention to go down to the country, to escape any blame for your fall. I dare say he expects me to send word of your accident. I shall not do so. We shall leave him to wonder for the time being.’
‘He tried to kill me—my only son…’ Lady Tate shook her head sadly. ‘Perhaps I should give him the house?’
‘You must decide that for yourself,’ Arabella told her. She had made her own decision very quickly. ‘I think we shall continue as we are for the moment, but when I go home you must come with me. Perhaps we can think of a way to keep you safe.’
‘Come with you?’
Arabella nodded. ‘You are welcome to make your home with me for as long as you wish, Aunt. I have a large house, which is far too big for one person. You, Tilda and the girl I told you of are the only people I care for and I should be glad to have your company. My house is far too big for one person.’
‘I am to allow him to drive me from my own home?’ Lady Tate looked more distressed than angry.
‘For the moment. Until we can prove his intention and have him restrained.’
Lady Tate gave a moan of despair. ‘Have my own son arrested for trying to murder me? No, Arabella, I cannot do it. It would shame me. Whatever he has done he remains my son.’
&n
bsp; ‘You are too upset to think clearly tonight,’ Arabella said. ‘You must lock your door after I leave, Aunt Hester. I do not think anything more will happen tonight, but you should be careful.’
‘Yes, I shall,’ Lady Tate said. ‘We shall talk again in the morning, my dear. Please say nothing of this to anyone for the moment.’
‘No, of course not, though I think we must do something. This may be the second time Ralph has tried to harm you.’
‘Those dates…’ Lady Tate gave a little shudder. ‘Oh, this is terrible…’ She put a hand to her chest as if in pain, her face waxen in the candlelight. ‘I do not know what to do for the best. Perhaps I am wronging him. I may have turned faint at the head of the stairs. Perhaps no one pushed me.’
Arabella decided to say nothing more. Aunt Hester was making excuses in her own mind, finding it too difficult to admit that her son intended her ill. Indeed, it was such a terrible situation that she wondered if she was in some kind of a bad dream herself. Could Ralph really have been so wicked as to harm his own mother? It did not seem possible and yet she had sensed something when he called on them, and she had always felt that he was not to be trusted.
‘Try to sleep,’ she said and touched her aunt’s hand. ‘I shall see you in the morning.’
‘Goodnight, Arabella. I am so glad you are here. You are a great comfort to me.’
Arabella went out. She waited outside the door until she heard her aunt turn the key in the lock before returning to her own room, where she also locked herself in. She felt as if a dark shadow hung over her. The suspicion that her cousin had tried to kill his own mother twice was so dreadful that it made her feel sick to her stomach. Surely there must be some other explanation? And yet in her own mind she felt that it was true.
How could Ralph be so callous? It was so awful that she could not bear to think of it, but she must. Aunt Hester was at risk and there was only Arabella to care for her. Her face was set in grim determination as she sat on the edge of her bed. She would not allow Ralph to have his way. Somehow she would protect her aunt from his wickedness.