A Most Unusual Lady

by Janet Grace

  Louisa laughed. This effervescent little lady was irresistible.

  ‘My name is Miss Stapely. But, please, call me Louisa. My brief acquaintance with your young brother has led me to feel I have known the family for years! If I could ask you for a bath initially, I shall feel a good deal more comfortable. John is not the only one to smell atrocious!’

  ‘We will have to admit my maid, Meggie, into the mystery, but for the rest you shall be my old schoolfriend who has arrived early for a visit, and got chilled in the rain on the journey.’ She turned and delved in a vast mahogany wardrobe, emerging with a beautiful pink satin dressing robe, trimmed with ruffled lace. ‘Change out of your clothes into this, and I will organise everything!’

  With a wave and a smile, Hetta flitted from the room.

  When she returned, Louisa, voluptuously gowned, was seated quietly by the window, her foul clothes in a neat bundle by the door.

  Meggie, staggering in with the large hip-bath, appeared to have been sworn to secrecy under dire threats.

  ‘I won’t never tell a soul, miss,’ she assured Louisa, wringing her hands earnestly. ‘Whatever Miss Hetta says, then that’s what I say, miss, and Miss Hetta says say nothing, miss, so I say nothing!’

  She nodded vigorously to affirm this pronouncement, then scurried out to fetch the pails of hot water before the mystery lady knew how to respond.

  It was only when she was relaxing in the hot water, fragrant with herbal oils, before a blazing fire, and decently screened from draughts and from Henrietta, who was perched, feet up, on the bed, that Louisa felt free to talk.

  Meggie had been sent off on a furtive mission to incinerate the offensive bundle of clothes in the copper furnace, and to achieve this conflagration in utmost secrecy. She had departed, white-faced, but grimly determined to succeed in her mission, and the girls were left in peace.

  ‘I owe you a great deal of explanation,’ Louisa began, ‘and I would like to give it all, though I am afraid you will find it a sad let-down after your mysterious imaginings! But I am hampered by the fact that much of it, indeed all the really dramatic part, is not my story to tell, and I feel I cannot betray the others involved.’ She paused.

  ‘Don’t worry! I quite understand,’ came the voice from behind the screens, followed by a quick chuckle. ‘I shall extract my brothers’ share of the story from them with torture and menaces, for I have no doubt it is them you are shielding. So please, just tell me what you feel you can.’

  So Louisa talked. All the small details and big decisions that had led to her arrival at Alnstrop were poured forth. Relaxed and private in the hot water behind the screens, she had, for the first time since she had left her friends in her select seminary, a warm, congenial and genuinely interested audience, whose exclamations of agreement and sympathy and thoughtful promptings led Miss Stapely, who did not easily confide her thoughts and feelings, to disclose perhaps more than she had intended of her frustrating life at Thesserton. And Henrietta, who in some ways was wise beyond her years, probably understood far more than Louisa ever guessed.

  ‘It was after I parted from the Tabbets that the story becomes not entirely my own,’ she concluded reluctantly, for she would have liked to talk over those incredible experiences, ‘and I have only just arrived back here. I have no doubt that the landlord of the Alnstrop Arms was as good as his word, and my trunk and band-box are all safely arrived at Upper Stoneham, but I am alarmed at what Mrs. Addiscombe must be thinking. I must travel on there as soon as possible, and hope she will overlook the delay. I trust she is not too anxious as to my whereabouts.’

  ‘But, my dear,’ breathed Lady Cairshaw from the bed as realisation dawned upon her, ‘you spent the night alone somewhere with my brothers?’

  Oddly, this aspect of her predicament had not previously struck Louisa, and mentally reviewing the unromantic elements of her captivity in the sail locker, and subsequent role as sick nurse, she chuckled.

  ‘Why, I suppose you are quite right, but I can assure you I had two burly chaperons!’ She smiled. ‘I should not wish to trouble your brothers over such a detail. Surely we can arrange some acceptable explanation?’

  She heard Henrietta grunt disapprovingly.

  ‘It seems to me you are excusing a great deal, and largely on John’s behalf, I suspect,’ Lady Cairshaw remarked. ‘But do you really wish to go on to be a governess? Are you still certain in your own mind you are doing the right thing? I think you would be wasted in such a situation. Stay here for a while and reconsider. Do! I should so enjoy your company.’

  Hetta mentally shelved her planned London visit, keen to further this new acquaintance.

  ‘No!’ The word sounded rudely abrupt, as Louisa found she needed unexpected resolution to utter it. ‘No, thank you, Henrietta. It is such a kind thought, and I appreciate all your interest ... But I have made my choice, and now have no real alternative. Were I to stay here for a while, I could only trail home at the end of my visit, all my chances gone. I could never organize it all again. And I no longer have the proposal of Mr. Sowthorpe to consider...’

  ‘Oh, that pigman!’ Hetta put in with scant politeness. ‘He was no choice for you, my dear. It was unthinkable.’ Visualising the great red face and coarse hands of the man, and his stubbly, bristly hair, Louisa shuddered her agreement.

  ‘And I will not trot ignominiously home to eke out my life as a dutiful support to my ageing mama on an ever decreasing income, and eventually become the unpaid but always useful spinster aunt to my sister’s children. At least,’ she frowned determinedly, ‘not until I have attempted a life of my own. So, yes, I intend to be a governess, and to travel to Upper Stoneham as soon as possible. I would be exceedingly grateful for any help you can give me.’

  Thus Miss Stapely shut her mind firmly on the glimpse of another hope, another life, that Henrietta’s offer had opened briefly, dreamlike, before her. I am too old to live for dreams, she told herself severely. I must cope as best I can with reality.

  She was out of the tub now, well-scrubbed and hair washed. She was clad in exotically fine silk underwear, which had been passed over the screen by Hetta, who was quick with her assurances that she had drawers full of such things and was happy to part with any amount. Meggie had returned on exaggerated tiptoe and cleared the screens while Louisa towelled her hair vigorously, then combed it dry before the fire. Henrietta was happily engaged in sorting through a seemingly unending range of gowns from before her period of mourning, greeting each one with exclamations and quick, quirky reminiscences of when she had worn them, frequently bubbling into infectious laughter. Meggie brought a tray of food, which the girls demolished amicably, Hetta continuing to delve into cupboards and reminisce as she ate, gesticulating with a chicken bone or half-eaten peach.

  By the time they had finished eating and washed their fingers, Henrietta had decided on a beautiful cream silk dress for her guest. With full puff sleeves and tight undersleeves beneath, it fell from the high waist with straight simplicity to a band of exquisite embroidery in shades of brown just above the hem. The neckline was low cut, and decorated with the same delicate stitching.

  ‘It is beautiful!’ Louisa exclaimed, fingering the fine silk wistfully. ‘It is seven years since I wore such a thing. But it is not suitable now. I am so much older, and it is hardly the dress for a governess.’

  ‘Nonsense! It will look exactly right. The colours never suited me; I cannot think why I bought it. But with your hair ... yes, it is perfect. And for dinner tonight I shall choose another. You can’t stop me, I am enjoying myself too much. And you are not a governess today! Leave being serious and sensible for tomorrow.’

  Louisa, who had a lurking suspicion she had been disgracefully easy to persuade, was helped into the rustling cream silk.

  ‘So you are going to a family in Upper Stoneham?’ It seemed an innocent query, but Hetta’s voice held a faint air of calculation. ‘Yes, I know where that is. I will write a letter to this Mrs. Addiscombe. I will
explain that your delay is all my fault. That you did not know I was here, thinking me still married and away at my own residence. Then, when I saw you waiting for the stage—you, my own dearest schoolfriend—I insisted you stay for a couple of days with me, and despite your protestations you were obliged to accept. I shall be very bad and make us sound an immensely important and aristocratic family, so that when this woman reads the letter she will be so impressed by your fine friends that she will have no breath left to criticise your delay! What do you think? Will it serve?’

  Louisa ruefully acknowledged that, from what she knew of Mrs. Addiscombe, it would serve extremely well.

  Smoothing the dress down, she began automatically to braid her hair preparatory to pinning it up into its accustomed coils.

  ‘Oh, no, you don’t! No governess coils today! I shall arrange your hair.’

  Hetta pounced on the comb and ran it lightly through the chestnut locks, then gathered the hair on top of Louisa’s head, so that it fell in a gentle cascade of waves on either side of her face. As she worked the comb caught the swollen lump, reminder of Ezra’s little mistake, and Louisa flinched. Henrietta exclaimed in horror.

  ‘But this is terrible! Has it been treated? How did it happen? No! You will refuse to tell me, I know. But my John shall suffer for this. That he should do such an outrageous thing! It is unforgivable—unbelievable! I shall say such things to that boy—’

  With difficulty, Louisa stemmed this outpouring of wrath, and defended John’s innocence.

  Hetta snorted disapproval.

  ‘I shall still have words,’ she said ominously, ‘and you shall have ointment. This is a recipe of my grandmother’s, and was always used to soothe our childhood bumps and bruises. It is very good.’

  She gently rubbed ointment on the swelling, then cunningly arranged the swathes of glowing chestnut to hang and cover all trace.

  She stood back to admire her handiwork, and smiled at the change she had wrought. Louisa, eyes alight with amusement at the unaccustomed fuss and attention, face lightly flushed from the fire, looked very beautiful.

  Henrietta nodded with speculative approval.

  ‘Yes. That is exactly right.’ She beamed happily. ‘Now, come and be properly introduced to my family.’

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Mr. Padgett, Alnstrop family butler for over thirty years, stood straight-backed and blank-faced at the foot of the stairs. He bowed slightly.

  ‘Lady Cairshaw. Miss Stapely. His Lordship’s compliments, and would Miss Stapely join him in the study for a few moments?’

  Henrietta’s arched black brows raised in surprise, but she nodded and smiled.

  ‘I’ll be in the morning-room, my dear.’

  Padgett glided across the hall with stately solemnity, knocked quietly, and opened the study door. ‘Miss Stapely, my lord.’

  Poised and confident in her borrowed attire, Louisa entered the study smiling, and Padgett shut the door. Both brothers were in the room. Robert was leaning on the mantelpiece and gazing moodily into the fire. He glanced up as the door opened. John, clean and changed, with a fresh bandage on his arm, was standing across the room, gripping a chair-back with his uninjured arm. He looked absurdly young, embarrassed, and deathly tired.

  She noticed the eyes of both men widen as they took in her appearance, then Lord Alnstrop’s expression became unusually grim. He stepped forward and bowed abruptly.

  ‘Miss Stapely.’ His blue eyes were hard and his mouth a thin line. ‘On behalf of the family, I wish to offer my sincere apologies for what has occurred. Naturally I was, until yesterday, unaware of my brother’s activities. None the less, I feel I must bear a share of the responsibility for his foolhardy, near disastrous actions.’ Louisa heard John shift uncomfortably behind her. ‘We must consider how to make amends for what you have suffered.’

  ‘Louisa.’

  As John spoke her name, Alnstrop’s brows snapped together with sharp anger, and he turned back to lean by the fire, his hand gripping the carved wooden edge of the mantelpiece.

  ‘Miss Stapely,’ John straightened his back and drew breath tiredly, ‘I have realised how irresponsible my actions have been, particularly in their consequences for you, and for the good name of my family. I hope you will accept my sincere apologies also.’

  ‘Of course.’ Louisa still stood in the centre of the room. In the atmosphere of acute tension, neither man had thought to offer her a seat. It was obvious that his lordship’s earlier comments on his younger brother’s behaviour had been flaying severe. Before she could speak further, John continued.

  ‘I realise also that, in spending a night unchaperoned on my yacht, you will be considered by the world to have forfeited your reputation. I am aware that nothing in your experience of me is likely to recommend me in this capacity, and that my own behaviour has disgraced the name I offer, but I feel I should ... I would be very proud if, despite these circumstances, you would do me the honour of accepting my hand in marriage.’

  Louisa gazed at John in profound amazement. It seemed absurd to her that pride, his own or his brother’s, should demand such a solution to their dilemma. John watched her steadily, his face drawn and grey, while Lord Alnstrop, after an initial start of surprise, stared resolutely at the fire, only the clenched muscle at the corner of his jaw and the bone-white knuckles that gripped the mantelpiece betraying his tension. She felt a spurt of exasperated anger towards this man. Did he seriously consider she might accept such a proposal? For the money? The position? Marry a boy who seemed little older than her brothers at times, and by the look of him ought to be in his bed? She fumed to think this Lord Alnstrop must be harbouring such thoughts about her. It would serve him right if she accepted.

  She clasped her hands together and, turning her back towards his lordship, looked up at John.

  ‘Thank you for your proposal, John.’ She spoke steadily. ‘You do me an honour and I am grateful. However, I think we will both be the happier that I am declining your offer.’

  The trace of relief in his face was fleeting, but it was there, and she smiled at him.

  ‘Lady Cairshaw and I think we can produce an acceptable story to cover the events, and with a little backing from yourself and Lord Alnstrop, I believe it will serve. Just now, however, I think the main priority is for you to rest.’ He was swaying gently as he stood. Louisa turned angrily to his brother.

  ‘How could you be so severe on the boy when he is obviously ill? Who can I call to escort him to bed?’

  ‘No, not bed.’ John shook his head. ‘I will sit by the fire in the morning-room.’

  Alnstrop nodded. ‘Yes, go and rest. And get some food down you. Silly young chubb. Haven’t we always solved your scrapes? Things will come about.’

  John essayed a smile.

  ‘I only do it to keep you busy, my elderly brother. To give you an interest in life.’

  He chuckled weakly and, taking Louisa’s hand with a flourish, kissed it.

  ‘With thanks for your magnanimity, and sincere regrets for your decision.’ He bowed and left the room before his brother could retaliate.

  Suddenly finding herself alone with Lord Alnstrop, Louisa turned a little breathlessly, thinking to excuse herself and follow John from the room. He forestalled her. Taking the hand his brother had kissed into his own strong, fine-boned hands, he held it trapped and smiled down at her.

  ‘I am not really a monster of severity to young John, you know,’ he said gently, ‘or only when he deserves it.’

  She flushed and dropped her eyes.

  ‘I am sorry, sir. It was wrong of me to criticise you. I should not have allowed my concern for your brother to overcome my good manners.’

  She spoke stiffly, pulling her hand away.

  ‘Miss Stapely?’

  She glanced up and caught his eye, with that lurking twinkle, smiling down at her.

  ‘That is much better,’ he said gravely. ‘The top of your head is naturally very beautiful, but difficult to co
nverse with. Shall we join the others in the morning-room? You and Hetta must explain your plans to me, and we shall decide if they will suffice. I must congratulate my sister on her excellent choice of clothes for you—the result is quite delightful. A great improvement on John’s selection for you. I could not feel that the sackcloth outfit was from one of our more exclusive dressmakers! And as for the choice of perfume...’

  It was impossible not to laugh with him, and as they entered the morning-room, Louisa’s hand on Alnstrop’s arm as she chuckled at some absurdity of his, Henrietta smiled with considerable satisfaction.

  The rest of the day passed for Louisa in a glow of content. Admitted to the family bosom as an instant friend, there was little formality, and the conversation, full of wit, sparkle and gentle teasing, drew her at once into the shared ideas and laughter.

  The Lady Cairshaw had naturally availed herself of every detail of ‘The Grand Free Trading Fiasco’, as she irreverently termed it, so that under her lively comments and absurdly fanciful suggestions of further possible occurrences the entire escapade began to assume the dimensions of a melodramatic farce! Their laughter escalated as Robert suggested patent methods for the gallant rescuing of virtuous ladies inadvertently discovered abandoned in sail lockers, and Louisa suggested a ready-assembled kit of ‘What Every Self-Sacrificing Heroine Should Need To Know, And Necessities To Have Cunningly Hidden About The Person, For The Saving Of Heroes Shot At Their Feet—(Send sixpence for further details).’!

  Hetta glanced at Robert, his dark face alight with merriment as he raised his hands for a moment’s peace in which to insert his own nonsensical comments. Their eyes met, and she threw him an affectionate smile, receiving a warm glow of response.