Secret Heiress

by Shelley, Lillian;

  Chapter 19

  The note was delivered to Giles while he was still in his dressing gown eating breakfast. He was just finishing some excellent kippers when the butler came in.

  “Excuse me, sir,” said the butler. “There is a young person to see you. She says it is urgent, and that she comes from Miss Chedworth.”

  “Indeed!” exclaimed Giles. “Then I suppose I had better see her. Show her in.”

  “Very good, sir,” said the butler. He returned shortly, followed by a heavily veiled young woman in a gray cloak.

  “Please, sir, are you Mr. Giles Kendal?” she asked in a wispy voice.

  “Yes, I am,” said Giles. “And who are you?”

  “I’m Maria, sir, maid to Miss Chedworth, and I have a note which she entrusted to me and told me to give to you no matter what happened to me.” She clutched the note to her as she spoke.

  “Please give me the note,” said Giles, somewhat amused by the dramatics.

  “Yes, sir,” replied Maria as she handed the note to him.

  Giles ripped it open.

  Dear Giles,

  I was not going to tell anyone of my plans, but I must confide in you, for only you can understand and help me. Lord Warriner has been accepted by my Papa and I am helpless to oppose. The only thing for me to do is to run away and become a governess. Then I can earn enough money to support Jeremy while he writes his poems. Maria is pledged to secrecy but Mama will surely come to you. Please tell her that I am well but that I cannot marry Lord Warriner.

  I have taken my pearls (the ones Papa bought me for my come-out) and will have to sell them as I haven’t any money except what is left from my allowance. As it is almost the end of the quarter, that isn’t very much. I am certain I shall be all right and shall write to you (in secret) when I have found a situation.

  Jeremy has no inkling of what has occurred. I am enclosing a separate note for you to give him. He will know what to do. I am depending on you both, for I am desperate.

  Yours faithfully,

  Arabella

  “Good God!” exclaimed Giles when he had finished the letter. He turned to the maid. “Why did you not accompany your mistress?” he asked.

  “Miss would not have me,” she explained. “She said that governesses did not have maids.”

  “And you let her go?” asked Giles. “Did you not tell her mother?”

  “Miss was being forced to do something she could not!” pronounced Maria dramatically. “It was my bounden duty to help her.”

  “You have a strange notion of duty,” said Giles sternly. “But there is nothing to be gained in speaking of that. Have you no clues as to where your mistress may have gone? Did she say nothing?” As Maria hesitated, he said, “Come, I can be trusted.”

  “Well, sir, Miss did say she couldn’t go anywhere where people knew her. I heard her wondering how much money it would take to get to Bedford.”

  “Bedford!” exclaimed Giles. “That’s a day’s journey from here. When did she leave?”

  “Miss left before it was light,” said Maria. “No one else is awake yet.”

  “That was three hows ago,” said Giles, thinking aloud. “If she caught the early stage, she will have departed. I shall have to make inquiries at the station first and then follow on the road to Bedford.”

  “Please, sir, what shall I tell my mistress?” Maria looked frightened at the thought of the confrontation with Mrs. Chedworth.

  “You shall take this note back with you.” He penned a few words telling Mrs. Chedworth he was going to search for Arabella and would have word later. “If you are turned off, as I suspect you may be, come back here.”

  “Oh, thank you, sir,” said Maria. She curtsied as she left.

  Damn! thought Giles as he contemplated the note intended for Jeremy. He knew he should not open it, but propriety would have to give way to expediency. He opened the note and scanned it quickly. When he had finished it, he groaned.

  “Good God, another Cheltenham tragedy!” he exclaimed. Arabella was clearly under the influence of some of the more fanciful novelists, but at least she had let fall some of her plans. Her first stop, it appeared, would be Bedford. At least, he thought, he had a direction. He wondered about delivering the note to Tarkington and decided reluctantly that bringing Arabella back to London would be more easily accomplished with him than without him.

  Damn! thought Giles again as he contemplated the situation. But there was no time for that. He dressed quickly and within an hour was on his way.

  Arabella had never before ridden in the stage. When she had come to London, it had been in her father’s carriage, accompanied by her maid and surrounded by outriders. She had not shared it with other persons of the sort she was not at all accustomed to being with. The people she knew did not smell odiously, as that fat man did, or pinch her cheek, as that young man had. It had been difficult enough leaving the house without being observed. She had not wished to confide in anyone, but it had been necessary to seek Maria’s help in packing a bandbox. Arabella had never packed anything in her life. She did not even know where her bandboxes were kept. Maria already knew the story of her persecution, so she confided in her the decision to flee. To Maria it sounded like a storybook: her pretty young mistress, in love with another, being forced to marry the rich old nobleman. Maria had pledged her silence. At the last minute Arabella had decided to send Giles a note. She was afraid to go without letting anyone know, and Giles seemed the right person. At least it eased her conscience about leaving her parents. She knew they’d be terribly worried. But it served them right. They had no right to force her to marry that fat old man!

  With Maria’s assistance, she had packed the bandbox by candlelight. It had been very hard to leave behind the pink silk with the florettes or the blue muslin which matched her eyes, but she wouldn’t need them as a governess. Governesses didn’t go to balls. A tear rolled down her cheek, but she brushed it away. From what she’d seen of governesses, they didn’t cry, either. Governesses didn’t do much at all, except teach Italian and sketching and get scolded when the children misbehaved. It was going to be very different from what she was used to, but much, much better than marrying Lord Warriner! With that thought she comforted herself.

  There had been some difficulty about gaining a seat on the stage, the statiomnaster taking exception to so young and obviously well bred a female traveling alone. But she had gazed up at him and told him of how her maid had been taken ill and how she was needed at home because her brothers and sisters had the measles and so she had to leave in the middle of the Season. It wasn’t even such a very big lie, because they had had the measles. Whether the stationmaster believed her or not, he had shrugged his shoulders and taken the coins she offered. It never paid, he had discovered, to question the thinking of the Quality. Strange in their ways, they were. He had given Arabella a ticket and pointed to where she should wait. Then he had forgotten about her.

  Chapter 20

  It had been a very long evening. At dinner, Aurelia had tried to discover the source of the fight between Caroline and Adrian, only to be met by Caroline’s discouraging, “I do not wish to speak of it, ma’am.” There had been such a note of finality in her voice that even Aurelia had known better than to pursue the matter. Caroline had barely touched her dinner and had excused herself, saying she had the headache. As Aurelia well knew, Caroline was not subject to headaches or to any of the other ailments which troubled her own poor constitution, so this explanation boded ill. Aurelia made no attempt to follow her.

  Caroline sat at her dressing table for a long while, looking at herself in the mirror.

  “Well, my girl,” she said aloud, “you’ve come full circle. When you decided to come to London you were sitting in your room, looking in the glass. As I recall, you were disappointed then, too, to discover that your most desirable feature was your fortune.” She smiled weakly. “You know,” she continued, “it’s your pride, not your heart, that has suffered the worst hur
t. You weren’t really in love with him. You wanted to believe he loved you because he seemed to want you for yourself. You’ve been deceiving yourself, but now it’s over.” She put her chin in her hands.

  “The thing is, what are you going to do now?” she asked herself after a few moments. “You can’t leave London: it would show him you were running away.” But suddenly the need to see Brampton, to go home, seemed overwhelming. “I don’t care what he or anyone else thinks!” she declared. “I am going home!” She lifted her head defiantly.

  “Sarah!” she called. Her maid came running to the door.

  “Yes, Miss Caroline, what is it?” she asked anxiously.

  “Sarah, we’re going home to Brampton!”

  “We are, miss?” asked Sarah. “But I thought …”

  “Never mind that,” said Caroline. “We are leaving in the morning.”

  “Tomorrow, Miss Caroline?” asked Sarah in surprise. “Will you be taking everything with you?”

  “I shall take just a few things with me. In a few days I shall send you back with the carriage to collect the rest of my things and to help my cousin. I could not ask her to leave so quickly. Now, please send Briggs to me. I have arrangements to make.”

  “Now, Miss Caroline …”

  “Please send Briggs to me,” she repeated firmly. Sarah opened her mouth as if to say something, thought better of it, turned quickly, and left the room.

  When the butler appeared at the door, Caroline said, “Briggs, I shall need the carriage in the morning.”

  Without blinking, Briggs said, “Indeed, miss. And may I ask at what hour you will require the carriage?”

  “I should like to leave for Lancashire quite early—perhaps by eight.”

  “I beg your pardon, miss, but it may be difficult to make the proper arrangements for such a long journey with so little notice.”

  “I am certain it will not be difficult for you, Briggs,” said Caroline with a smile. “I shall be leaving London, as I imagine you have surmised.”

  “It is not my place to question your intentions, miss,” he replied firmly. “May I say, however, that I speak for all the staff when I say that we shall be sorry to see you leave us.”

  “Why, thank you, Briggs,” said Caroline, touched by the comment.

  “And now I shall see about the arrangements.” He bowed and left.

  “I suppose I had better tell Aurelia of the change in our plans,” said Caroline. She smiled ruefully. “I have certainly left the hardest task for last.”

  She found Aurelia in her sitting room, reading sermons.

  “Ah, my love,” she said when Caroline entered. “I hope you are feeling more the thing?”

  “Yes, I am,” said Caroline. “But I find myself homesick for Brampton.”

  “That is quite natural,” said Aurelia, “though you would not wish to leave our particular friends at this time.”

  “But that is exactly what I mean to do,” said Caroline. “It is my intention to leave in the morning.”

  “The morning!” shrieked Aurelia. “But that is not possible! I could not possibly be ready!”

  “You shan’t be leaving tomorrow,” said Caroline calmly. “I shall leave with Sarah. She will return in the carriage in several days to collect you and your possessions.”

  “But why?” asked Aurelia, fanning herself. “Why must we leave in this precipitous fashion? It is not at all dignified or proper. What of our engagements? The Waterloo Bridge opening …”

  “I have decided that I wish to go home,” said Caroline. “Our lease on the house is nearly up. Ah, and that reminds me that I must send a note to Stokes in the morning.”

  “Should you not inform our friends—Mr. Bradford, Mr. Kendal—that we are leaving?” asked Aurelia timidly.

  “No,” said Caroline. “I do not feel that is at all necessary.”

  “Please, my love, please tell me what has happened. Why did Mr. Bradford leave here so angry?”

  “I do not intend to discuss the matter, Aurelia,” said Caroline. “And now if you will excuse me, there is much to do if I am to be ready in the morning.” She turned and left the room.

  “Oh dear,” said Aurelia, shaking her head. “Oh dear, oh dear.”

  Caroline had asked to be awakened at sunrise, but she was already out of bed when Sarah came to rouse her.

  “Up already, Miss Caroline?” scolded Sarah. “And you going to bed so late last night, insisting on writing letters and who knows what else.”

  “I fear I’ve been a trial to you lately, Sarah,” said Caroline. “You quite sound like Mrs. Lawson, giving me a scold. I can just hear her.”

  “You’re still not too old to scold. Miss Caroline,” mimicked Sarah with a grin. “But you should put on your dressing gown and drink your chocolate. It’s a damp morning, it is.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” said Caroline meekly. “After I wash, I shall come downstairs for breakfast. Please tell Briggs I should like to see him then.”

  “Yes, Miss Caroline,” said Sarah. “And mind you finish your chocolate!” She bustled out of the room.

  “If I’m not careful, she’ll soon be as bad as Mrs. Lawson!” said Caroline with a laugh. She finished her chocolate and began to dress.

  While Caroline was eating breakfast, Briggs came in.

  “You wished to see me, miss?” he asked.

  “Yes,” replied Caroline. “Is everything in readiness? I was not sure it could be done on such short notice.”

  “Of course, miss,” said Briggs, his tone implying surprise at her doubt. “The carriage will be here at nine. Will that be satisfactory?”

  “That is perfect,” said Caroline.

  “Briggs,” continued Caroline, “I wish to thank you and the rest of the staff for your kindness during my stay in London.”

  “I am certain I speak for all the staff when I say that it has been our pleasure to serve you,” said Briggs. “If your baggage is ready, I shall send the footman upstairs to bring it down.”

  “It is almost ready, I believe,” said Caroline.

  “Very good, miss,” said Briggs. He bowed and left Caroline to finish her meal alone.

  Caroline was upstairs when the carriage was announced. She quickly put on her hat and cloak and went downstairs. While Briggs supervised the loading of the bandboxes that she was taking with her, Caroline stopped to speak to the rest of the staff and to say goodbye to them.

  Before leaving the house, Caroline handed Briggs two notes. Aurelia had not come downstairs, so Caroline had left a note for her. “I shall depend on you to see that Miss Peakirk receives one note and Mr. Stokes the other. I have printed Mr. Stokes’s direction on the envelope.”

  “I shall see to it, miss,” said Briggs.

  “And please extend my apologies to Miss Peakirk,” said Caroline. “I did not wish to disturb her this early in the morning.”

  “I understand, miss,” said Briggs with a look that indicated that he did indeed.

  Caroline entered the carriage, followed by Sarah. Briggs closed the door behind them. Caroline gave a final wave to the staff assembled in front of the house and they were on their way for the long drive to Lancashire.

  Chapter 21

  They reached Bedford in the early afternoon and stopped to change horses and have a light luncheon. As Caroline entered the inn the host came up to her, wiping his hands on his apron and bowing.

  “Welcome to the White Hart, my lady,” he said. “And what might you be wanting?”

  “It is not my lady, it is miss,” said Caroline with a smile. “And I should like a light luncheon. Is there a private parlor?”

  “Well, yes and no,” said the innkeeper.

  “Yes and no?” said Caroline. “That is curious indeed.”

  “What I mean, my lady—miss—is that we have a private parlor but it is occupied at present.”

  “Then it is not available to me,” said Caroline patiently. “We shall have to stop elsewhere.”

  “Oh, no
,” said the innkeeper, not at all anxious to lose custom of the sort which did not often come his way. “The room is occupied by a very young lady who came in alone. The missus, being a soft ‘un, didn’t want to leave her out here. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind sharing the room.”

  “Very well,” said Caroline. “Show me to the parlor and bring a light meal to me there.”

  “Right, miss,” said the host. “If you’ll just follow me this way …”

  When they reached the parlor the host knocked on the door and opened it. The girl’s back was to him as she looked out the window.

  “Begging your pardon, miss, but here’s a lady to share the parlor with you if you don’t mind.”

  Caroline stepped forward. As she did the girl turned around.

  “Miss Chedworth!” exclaimed Caroline. “What are you doing here?”

  The girl, already pale, had turned white when she saw who stood in the doorway.

  “Miss Chessington!” she bleated.

  Caroline, conscious of the interested ears of the innkeeper, said, “What a delightful coincidence! As you can see, Miss Chedworth and I are quite old friends. If you will excuse us, we have much to catch up on.” She nodded dismissal to him.

  The host moved to the door reluctantly. “Will you still be wanting the food?” he asked.

  “Yes, thank you,” said Caroline. “Also, I think some ratafia would be welcome. Miss Chedworth appears a bit worn.”

  “Yes, miss,” said the host. Caroline closed the door behind him.

  “Miss Chedworth,” she said when she was certain the innkeeper was out of hearing, “I know I have no claim over you, but I hope you will tell me what you are doing here unattended. If something is wrong I should like to help.”

  “Oh, Miss Chessington—” began Arabella. There was a knock on the door and the innkeeper entered with a tray on which there was cold meat, salad, two glasses of ratafia, and some fruit.

  “Thank you,” said Caroline, nodding dismissal.

  “The missus says to please excuse the meal not being fancy-like as she ‘adn’t much time to prepare.”