A Wealthy Widow

by Anne Herries

  ‘You know I am an indifferent traveller, Arabella. I am glad to be home again. I have several boxes and parcels for you. They were delivered to Lady Tate’s house only yesterday. Was that not fortunate? We have brought them with us. So many that I thought we should not have room for everything.’

  ‘Some of them must be clothes and trifles I ordered for May,’ Arabella said. ‘Would you continue to oversee everything for us, Tilda? I shall ring for tea in ten minutes, if you would care to join us then.’

  ‘Oh, but…yes, of course.’ Tilda looked a little put out. She had a great deal to tell Arabella, things which she considered of some importance, but she knew better than to argue when her employer made such a request. She could not help but feel a little jealous. She could hardly justify her own presence in the house now that Arabella had her aunt to live with her on a permanent basis and she was secretly dreading the day when she would be asked to leave.

  Arabella was aware that Tilda’s nose was a little out of joint over the new arrangements and regretted it. She would talk to her later, explain that she was still needed, and hope that would settle her feathers. However, she wanted to explain about May to her aunt and did not wish Tilda to hear what was actually May’s secret.

  ‘You recall that I told you someone was looking after Nana until she died?’ she said as they moved towards the parlour at the back of the house.

  ‘Yes, my dear—so sad, but of course she was almost eighty, was she not? A good age, Arabella. Didn’t she take in a young girl or something of the sort?’

  ‘That is what I wanted to tell you, Aunt. We called her May, but now it appears that her name might be Sarah. She has no memory of what happened to her or who she is, but her family have been searching for her and now they have come here.’

  ‘Goodness gracious, how very odd,’ Lady Tate said. ‘You are sure that they are her family and not impostors? One hears such terrible things at times.’

  ‘We cannot be sure, but I do not think that Mr Hunter would lie about such a thing—do you?’

  Lady Tate gasped and stared at her in dismay. ‘You do not mean to say that little Sarah is here? Her mama told me that she had been abducted some months ago, though it is being kept as quiet as possible. Well, I never! It makes me feel quite upset…poor dear Sarah!’

  Arabella stared at her aunt. ‘Do you know Sarah?’

  ‘Yes, naturally, though it must be all of two years since I last saw her—but I am sure that I should know her again.’

  ‘Then come and meet her and tell us what you think.’

  Lady Tate placed a hand to her chest. ‘It makes me feel quite breathless to think of it. Selina has been in such distress, for no one knew what had happened to Sarah. They thought her dead or…’ Lady Tate shook her head as if she could not bear her own thoughts. ‘It is quite shocking, Arabella.’

  ‘Yes, I know. It must have been terrible for them. Mr Hunter was very angry with me for not contacting her family long before this, and practically accused me of keeping her a prisoner, but of course I did nothing of the kind. Besides, May was too distressed to talk about the past until recently. I did ask her a few questions now and then, but it upset her for she could remember nothing.’ Arabella paused outside the sitting room door. ‘Do not forget that she has been ill. She may be changed a great deal.’

  She opened the door and went in, her aunt following. May was standing by the window looking out at the garden, but she turned as they entered, smiling a little uncertainly. She dipped a graceful curtsy at the older woman.

  ‘This is the young lady I told you of, Aunt Hester. Dearest, come and say hello to Lady Tate.’

  Lady Tate stood for a moment, staring at the girl. She looked older than her years, partly because of the white streaks in her golden hair, where it winged back at her temples, and partly because of the shadows in her eyes. It was evident that she had suffered. However, there was no doubt in the older woman’s mind as she went forward to greet her.

  ‘Sarah, my dear,’ she said warmly and held out her hands. ‘How glad I am to see you safe with Arabella. Your mama will be so happy that you have been found.’ Tears stood in her eyes. ‘Come, embrace me, my love. We have always been fond of one another and I was greatly shocked when your dear mama told me the truth just a few days ago.’

  ‘Lady Tate…’ Sarah said hesitantly. She felt no fear of the kind woman, though even now she had no memory of ever having known her. ‘Then I am truly Sarah Hunter? Charles Hunter is my brother?’ She took a few uncertain steps towards Lady Tate and was gathered into a motherly embrace.

  ‘I have always been Aunt Hester to you, Sarah,’ Lady Tate said. ‘It was a joy to me to come here today, but finding you makes it all the sweeter.’

  Tears trickled down Sarah’s face as she let herself be embraced and kissed. She could not fear Arabella’s aunt, and she knew now that she was truly Sarah Hunter. She still had no memory of her abduction or of anything until she woke up in Nana’s bed, but she knew instinctively that Lady Tate was telling her the truth.

  ‘You must let Mrs Hunter know that Sarah is here, Arabella.’

  ‘Mr Elworthy has gone to bring her here,’ Arabella said. ‘She must stay with us for the time being…just until she and Sarah get to know one another and Sarah feels ready to go home. She did not wish Charles to take her home and he has agreed to the arrangement.’ Reluctantly, but with the knowledge that he had no choice unless he wished to drag Sarah screaming and kicking from the company of her friends.

  ‘Well, that is very proper of you, Arabella. Just exactly what I would have expected, my dear.’ Lady Tate beamed at her. ‘Now, I should like to go up to my room, if you don’t mind, my dears. I need to make myself comfortable before we all have tea together.’ She patted Sarah’s face. ‘Isn’t this nice? Your dear mama is my greatest friend. I was sorry to part with her when she returned home, and now we shall all be together again.’

  Tilda entered as Lady Tate was about to leave. She hesitated on the threshold, as if unsure of her welcome, which made Arabella frown.

  ‘My aunt is going upstairs for a few minutes so I shall not ring for tea just yet, Tilda. Please come in and talk to Sarah while I take Aunt Hester up to her rooms. I shall come down shortly and we will all have tea together in half an hour.’

  ‘Oh, but I wanted to—’ Tilda shook her head as Arabella and Lady Tate went out together. She glanced sullenly at Sarah. ‘So you have remembered your name, then—or did you know it all along? Have you been pretending all this time in order to take advantage?’

  ‘No, of course not,’ Sarah said. ‘Why should I?’ She blushed as she saw the jealous look in the companion’s eyes. They had met previously, but hardly knew each other. Sarah had not expected to see that look of dislike in Tilda’s eyes. ‘You think I have been playing on Belle’s sympathy. Well, it is not true. She has been kind to me—but she is kind to everyone.’ She blinked hard—it had been a difficult morning and she was feeling emotional. ‘Excuse me, I must go to my room.’

  Tilda ignored her. She walked over to the French windows and looked out, her shoulders shaking with the tears she held inside. Arabella found her fussy and irritating. She knew that she had long outstayed her welcome at Long Meadows, but she had nowhere else to go. Now that Arabella had her aunt staying and so many new friends she would not need Tilda any more. Blinking back her foolish tears, she went out into the garden. Perhaps she would pick a few flowers to arrange in Arabella’s sitting room. Her only hope was to make herself so useful that Arabella could not do without her.

  Somehow Arabella did not manage to have a private talk with Tilda that evening. It was impossible, for Lady Tate was full of gossip about the friends she had left in town, and her friendship with Selina Hunter. She talked endlessly about when they were young, and told stories of Sarah and her mother, which kept both Arabella and Sarah hanging on her every word.

  Tilda complained of a headache when dinner was over, asking if Arabella would mind if she wen
t to bed early.

  ‘No, of course not. I know you do not travel well,’ Arabella said kindly. ‘Please go on up, Tilda. I wanted to talk to you alone, but it will keep for tomorrow.’

  ‘I can stay if you need me for anything,’ Tilda said, her face paler than usual. ‘But you have Lady Tate to keep you company.’ Her manner was one of righteous hurt, as if she had been slighted but was determined to rise above it.

  Arabella ignored her sulky look. ‘You must get some sleep. You will feel better in the morning. Ask Mrs Bristol to make you one of her tisanes, Tilda dear.’

  ‘Thank you, Arabella. You are always so thoughtful, but I do not like to take advantage of your good nature.’

  Arabella frowned, but did not answer her. She knew what was upsetting her companion, and she would try to set Tilda’s mind at rest as soon as she could, but she did find her constant need of reassurance a little irritating.

  ‘No one here takes advantage of me, Tilda,’ she said, a sharper note than usual in her voice. ‘Sarah and my aunt give me pleasure with their company. Go up now. I shall speak to you tomorrow.’

  Tilda turned away quickly, going out without another word. Arabella considered going after her, but surely it wasn’t necessary. Tilda was just being very silly and a little jealous when there was really no need at all. She turned as her aunt began another anecdote about when Sarah was learning to ride her pony. It was wonderful to watch the girl’s face, to see the confidence beginning to return with the knowledge that she had a loving family. It was so fortunate that Aunt Hester had arrived at an opportune moment—it would help Sarah to face her mother’s imminent arrival more easily.

  Later that evening, Arabella accompanied her aunt to her bedchamber, seeing her settled comfortably before retiring herself.

  ‘Thank you for being so kind to Sarah,’ she said. ‘She needs all the love and kindness she can get until she begins to trust in herself. I hope that her memory will return when her mama comes, but we cannot be sure that it will.’

  ‘She may never remember what happened to her,’ Lady Tate said. ‘And perhaps that may be for the best, Arabella. We do not know what ordeal she may have suffered before she knocked on Nana’s door. It may be that she is deliberately blocking it from her mind.’

  ‘I think sometimes she has flashes of memory,’ Arabella said. ‘But now we must talk of you, Aunt Hester. Is everything to your liking? Can you be comfortable here?’

  ‘Yes, perfectly,’ her aunt said. ‘You have provided all I could wish for, my dear, and once all my own things are unpacked I shall be quite at home.’

  ‘Good, I am so pleased, dear Aunt. I was anxious for you while you remained in town, but now that you are here I can be sure that you are safe.’

  ‘Oh, please do not let us talk of that,’ Lady Tate said with a little sigh. ‘I cannot bring myself to believe that Ralph…though I know what happened. I am not so entirely foolish as he believes, but I must excuse him if I can. Do you understand, love?’ She gave Arabella a look of appeal.

  ‘Yes, of course. We shall not talk of it—but if he comes to visit I shall stay with you. If I should be out, you must make sure that Tilda or Mrs Bristol is nearby.’ Her housekeeper was a sturdy woman and would stand no nonsense!

  ‘Yes, I suppose so,’ Lady Tate said. ‘But surely when I tell him that I have decided to sell the house…’ She shook her head, refusing to think of something that made her so unhappy. ‘It was so good of you to ask Mrs Hunter to stay, Arabella. You are always so generous.’ She dabbed her eyes with her lace handkerchief.

  ‘It was the best arrangement for us all,’ Arabella replied. ‘Had I not done so, I think Charles might have snatched her from us there and then, even though the very idea distressed Sarah. I suppose I must call her Sarah now, though it still seems strange—she has always been May to me.’

  ‘Did Charles really think to snatch her away?’ Lady Tate frowned. ‘Surely he could not be so foolish? Anyone must see that it would be the worst thing he could do. It would seem to Sarah that she was being abducted all over again. Besides, he cannot possibly blame you after all you have done for her?’

  ‘I assure you he does,’ Arabella said. ‘I fear that he actually dislikes me, Aunt, but perhaps he will forgive me in time.’ She forced herself to smile, though she did not feel inclined to do so. ‘You must be tired. I shall leave you to sleep.’

  Arabella kissed her aunt’s cheek and walked along the landing to her own suite of rooms, which were up a small staircase and looked out over the wild garden—her favourite place, especially in summer when the dog roses were in bloom. Beyond the garden was a small wood and then the high wall that guarded her estate from intruders. She opened the door to her bedchamber and went in, dismissing her maid before sitting down at her elegant satinwood dressing table. She looked at her reflection in the little shield-shaped mirror that stood on top, taking the pins from her hair to let it cascade down her back. It was thick, shining like a curtain of black silk in the candlelight.

  She had kept the thought of Charles’s anger at bay all day, but now it returned to haunt her, making her heart ache. Could he truly believe that she had detained Sarah here against her will? If he could think so ill of her, he could not like her at all. He must think that she was unkind and careless, which was quite unfair.

  It was such a painful thought that Arabella felt the sting of tears. She held them in check as she climbed into bed, putting out her candle with a long-handled silver snuffer. Closing her eyes, she snuggled into the feather mattress and tried to forget the ache in her heart. Life was so complicated. She had grieved for Ben so long and now, when she had begun to feel a little better, it seemed that the man she had allowed herself to care for did not return her feelings.

  Standing in the gardens below her room, Charles watched the light go out as Arabella snuffed her candle. He did not know what had brought him here to the house, for he understood that he must take things slowly with Sarah. She had been frightened of him! His own sweet sister, whom he had loved and spoiled all her life, had been afraid of him. To see the look of fear on her face had caused him such pain that he had struck out without thinking, blaming the woman who had saved her from more suffering.

  Now, alone with his bitter thoughts, he admitted that if it had not been for the kindly old woman that had taken her in Sarah might truly have died. That woman had been Arabella’s nurse and Mr Grant had told him that it was Arabella who had supplied them with everything they needed, food, warmth and clothing—and now that Nana was dead, she had taken Sarah to live with her. Instead of lashing out in a temper, he should have been thanking her for all that she had done.

  If Sarah could recall nothing of what had happened until she was nursed back to health by Nana and Arabella, then no one could tell him what had happened to her after she was abducted. Only Sarah could reveal that, if and when she regained her memory.

  He wondered if she were pretending not to remember. Might it be that she was ashamed of what had happened to her? Clearly she was frightened of men, which made him fear the worst. It might be that his sweet sister would never remember what had happened to her during that time, never lose her fear of men—because she had been too badly scarred.

  Charles uttered a muffled curse. He had imagined that when Sarah was found he would be at peace, but now he knew that his agony of mind would go on. Just what had those devils done to her? He turned, striding through the shrubbery towards the wooded area that led to the lane and eventually to Nana’s cottage, now empty and forlorn. There was actually a wall that kept the estate private, but the gate had been unlocked. Charles had had no difficulty in gaining entrance, which he had thought a little strange, although perhaps Arabella’s people were no longer on the alert for intruders?

  Lost in thought, he walked past the cottage without glancing at it, and it was thus that he did not see the thin stream of smoke issuing from its chimney. The cottage was no longer empty.

  ‘I am going for a ride,’ Arabe
lla announced at breakfast the next morning. ‘I did not ride in London and I have not done so since my return. My poor mare will believe she has been deserted, though I know my grooms have seen to it that she is exercised.’ She smiled at Sarah and Tilda, who had both come down to take breakfast in the small parlour used for that purpose because it had the benefit of the morning sun. ‘Aunt Hester will not come down much before nuncheon, but if she should ask for me, please tell her that I shall not be more than an hour. I think I shall ride down to the village.’

  ‘I should like to arrange the flowers for you,’ Sarah said. ‘Where may I cut flowers? I do not wish to upset your gardeners.’

  ‘I always do the flowers for Arabella,’ Tilda said, giving her a look that was not far short of hatred. ‘I know what to do, for I have lived here for some years and I understand these things.’

  ‘Then you may take Sarah with you and show her,’ Arabella said, ignoring the sullen flash in her companion’s eyes. ‘Sarah is to live with us for the time being, Tilda. She will not want to be idle and I am sure you have plenty of other things to occupy you.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose I have,’ Tilda said. ‘I was going to start an inventory of the linen this morning, but I dare say I can show Sarah where to cut the flowers first.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Arabella said. ‘I shall see you both later.’