by Janet Grace
‘Where is that?’ Hetta asked.
‘Little Stoneham Manor.’
There was a long, pregnant pause, filled only by the flutter of flames and the plock and pull of Hetta’s needle and thread as, after a sudden break, she restarted stitching. Eventually she looked up. He was staring at her with an uncertain, querying look of appeal in his face. Leaving her work, she went to him and knelt at his feet by the fire.
‘I liked her very much. And I have always wanted a sister.’ She paused. Then, ‘She cried herself to sleep that night.’
A twist of pain crossed his features. Then the grimness lightened as he thought, and began to hope. Suddenly he took a deep, determined breath and his face broke into a smile.
‘I have been a fool to wait so long, tormenting myself and doing nothing. I will tell John that he and I will move over to Stoneham as soon as possible. And at the very least I will see her and talk.’
Henrietta laughed, hiding her pleasure and relief, and ordered the tea-tray to be brought in.
Thus it was that John, returning much later from a jubilant and intoxicated Alnstrop Arms, where the ‘Speckled Devil’ had ended the reign of the ‘Red Terror’ with gory finality, was astounded to be greeted by a beaming elder brother, and not a mangel-wurzel in sight. He was offered a vast glass of his brother’s best brandy, and ordered to send instructions first thing on the morrow that Little Stoneham Manor be opened and prepared for their imminent arrival.
Astounded, but nothing loath, John agreed wholeheartedly, and Henrietta was woken by them in the small hours, ascending the stairs in a haze of amicable, alcoholic accord.
The news that Little Stoneham Manor was to be opened and prepared for the arrival of its owner, the Honourable John Ferdinand, and his brother Lord Alnstrop, swept through the surrounding villages like forest fire. It struck fear in the heart of the manor bailiff, and wariness into that of Mr. Blane, but elsewhere reaction ranged from the curious to the delighted.
Mrs. Rudge obtained the news from the village butcher, who arrived hotfoot at the kitchen door to deliver gossip with the sirloin, chops and turkey. Discovering an immediate need to recheck the menu details with Mrs. Addiscombe, the housekeeper busily returned to that lady’s private sitting-room, briefly to mention an alternative vegetable, and to impart the astounding news. That languid lady, startled by interest from her couch, sent immediately for Miss Stapely.
‘For be certain the sly thing knew all about this. She stayed at Alnstrop House on her way here, you know; she is a close friend of his lordship’s sister.’
Fetched from the schoolroom by an impressed Mrs. Rudge, Louisa offered a small prayer of thanks that the good lady gave her the news as they descended the stairs together. At least she gained a few moments to steady her emotions.
‘So she wants to know all about the family from you, seeing as how you know them so well, for they are certain to call.’
Louisa stifled a cry of dismay.
‘Oh, surely not? I am only a schoolfriend of their sister’s. Now, as a governess, I am quite out of their social sphere.’
She tried to make the same point to Mrs. Addiscombe, but that lady had no intentions at all of minimising her claims upon two such eminent newcomers into the restricted social circle of the area.
‘Of course they will call. No true gentleman spurns a lady friend because of her altered circumstances.’
Her mind drifted satisfactorily over numerous heroes of her favourite novels who had stayed true to their suffering but virtuous loves for chapter after chapter, until a happy ending could be created. The prospect pleased her. She continued with more vigour than Louisa, filled with foreboding, had yet heard from her.
‘Naturally they will call. Mr. Addiscombe will leave our card as soon as they arrive, and they won’t ignore you. Hopefully they will be here before they call on Lady Crockham and her squint-eyed daughters. Always thinking she’s so superior to me and my Georgiana. Wouldn’t that make her wild?’
With a smug smile the lady of the house tucked her feet on to the couch and covered her legs with a fleecy blanket, before lying back among the mounded cushions to continue the conversation. Tapping her lip reflectively with one finger, she considered Louisa.
‘What age are these brothers?’
‘His lordship must be thirty, and his brother perhaps twenty-one or twenty-two. My friend Henrietta is twenty-five.’
Louisa’s heart sank further as she watched Mrs. Addiscombe’s eyes drift once again to the stacked bookshelves.
‘Good ages,’ that lady sighed. ‘One young enough for the passions of youth, the other an experienced man of the world.’ She sighed wistfully. ‘Dear Georgiana will appreciate some more young friends, and it does her good to meet people of polish and sophistication, don’t you agree, Miss Stapely? Though Mr. Blane’s address is charming, of course, and he does call upon us so frequently.’ To Louisa’s horror, her employer simpered self-consciously, then asked abruptly, ‘And they really told you nothing of their intended visit here?’
‘Nothing. Indeed, I was unaware they owned any land in this area.’
I wish it had stayed that way, Louisa thought, torn by the flutter of insane hope in her heart, and the fury that they were wantonly and futilely coming to destroy her tentative, new-found equilibrium.
‘There is no reason why they should discuss details of estate management with their sister’s guest,’ she ended firmly.
‘No,’ Mrs. Addiscombe agreed. ‘Though it seems strange to me, when they knew you would be in Upper Stoneham, so close. Perhaps,’ she studied her finely shaped fingernails critically, ‘perhaps they planned the visit rather suddenly after their departure?’ She smiled speculatively at Louisa.
Or perhaps, that lady thought bitterly, they did not mention it because they had no wish to be saddled with the necessity of acknowledging acquaintance with a mere governess. But she merely shrugged a little and offered Mrs. Addiscombe no opinion.
In the event, it was some days after their arrival before Lord Alnstrop and the Honourable Mr. Ferdinand made their round of social calls. Mr. Addiscombe, along with the other gentlemen of the neighbourhood, had called at Little Stoneham Manor and left a card, but each had received the same response: his lordship and Mr. Ferdinand were out on the estate. It seemed that they spent most of the daylight hours out inspecting the land. The bailiff was known to have received notice, but no one had heard of a new appointee. It appeared that Mr. Ferdinand intended to do the work for himself for the time being. This gained the cautious approval of the local gentlemen, while the news that builders had been called in to repair and refurbish the house and outbuildings caused an outburst of excited speculation among the ladies. Perhaps Mr. Ferdinand’s residence was to be permanent? Visits were eagerly awaited.
When at last the great event happened, Louisa and the children were out. The weather was beginning to smell of summer, and there seemed to Louisa to be every excuse for the long walks she so enjoyed. The girls were becoming expert at spotting local birds and identifying their different songs, while the boys’ favourite walk at present was through a large area of woodland to the north of the Grange. Here they had discovered a badger’s set, and loved to squat on the trodden earth outside it, peering into the dark hole, with Rags whining and quivering between them.
Today, however, despite visiting the set, the boys had been persistently bickering and scrapping throughout the walk, so Louisa was relieved to leave the free fight that was likely to ensue to Annie, the nurserymaid, as Georgiana suddenly appeared, pulled her by the arm and breathed, ‘They’ve been!’
It emerged, from a flushed and starry-eyed Georgiana, that the brothers had called, had been everything that was pleasing and polite, and, to Mrs. Addiscombe’s immense gratification, had even stayed a little over the usual half-hour. They had asked especially after Miss Stapely, sending Lady Cairshaw’s kindest regards, had been most sorry to have missed her, and asked permission to call again in the hopes of seeing
her. Mrs. Addiscombe was transported. Louisa was returned to high favour. Miss Lyntrell glowed.
‘So you were pleased with the visitors?’
Louisa was surprised to see a blush of confusion on Georgiana’s face.
‘Why, yes!’ She spoke with an unusual reticence and modesty. ‘Yes, indeed, they were far more pleasant than Mr. Blane.’ She gazed down at her clasped hands, then raised that glowing face and smiled. ‘Lord Alnstrop asked where we liked to walk. The manor had lands quite near to here. They mean to stay for some time, and Mr. Ferdinand will eventually settle at the manor permanently. He has plans to landscape the grounds.’
On the inconsequential note she drifted away, leaving Louisa a prey to her own thoughts. If this star-struck glow was produced by one meeting with his lordship, she knew that her own emotional difficulties would be severe. She had no beauty to compare with that of Miss Lyntrell, nor fortune, or youth or lively personality. Nothing. Any man would be stunned by Georgiana’s beauty, and nothing in her character would deter him. A sudden vision of Georgiana tripping blithely through the rooms of Alnstrop, the proud glow of ownership on her face, twisted Louisa’s heart. Yet every feeling was revolted at the thought of competing in love with a girl entrusted to her care. She would have to watch, as the drab, demure governess, his courtship of Georgiana. She would have to force herself not to care. How she wished all the Alnstrop family at the far ends of the universe. Hateful man, to so thoughtlessly, unknowingly, torment her.
As Miss Stapely ascended to her rooms to change from her walking-clothes, her brow was furrowed and her eyes tense. When she reached the nursery, she asked Annie to supervise nursery supper. She had a headache and was going to lie down.
CHAPTER TWELVE
‘Rags! Rags, come back! Bad dog! Here!’
Clifton was dancing up and down in frustration as the dog, never famed for his obedience, ignored them all as if they had ceased to exist and, plunging determinedly into the undergrowth, vanished at speed into a section of the woods they had not previously explored.
Louisa, with not a premonition to cloud the clear blue of the summer sky, shrugged cheerfully.
‘Let’s just follow him. We are bound to arrive somewhere!’
The day was hot, the woods full of bird-song, the children keen to explore, and Georgiana engrossed in detailing the new clothes the seamstress had brought to the house that morning. They dawdled contentedly.
Rags’ hysterical yapping sounded shockingly shrill through the drowsy trees. Increasing her pace slightly, Louisa sent the children to run ahead and discover the disturbance. It was not a day made for hurrying.
When she and Georgiana emerged on to a wide grass ride swathed through the woodland, Rags was predictably ignoring the children’s shouts. He and a gangling young setter were chasing each other in a frenzy of excitement, tongues lolling, ears flapping, barging, darting, snarling and somersaulting. They paused briefly, facing each other, heads low to the ground, tails up and wagging, before the setter leapt forward. He swerved clumsily around Rags and scrambled away down the ride, with Rags on his stumpy legs pounding in pursuit, yelping furious insults.
Before Louisa had time for more than an exasperated sigh, John Ferdinand broke out of the undergrowth on the far side of the ride, breathless and dishevelled. He glared after the retreating dogs and drew breath for a ferocious shout, just as he became aware of the party from Stoneham Grange. Reducing his bellow to a polite cough, he strode over.
‘Miss Stapely! Miss Lyntrell! How splendid to see you both again. I had no idea you would be walking so far from the Grange. And you must be all the Addiscombe children. Can you tell me your names?’
Impressed by such civil notice, the children all bobbed and bowed politely as they introduced themselves.
John spoke ruefully. ‘I had intended to train Russet to the gun while I was here, but I have yet to prevent him vanishing after rabbits. He is the most foolish dog, though sweet-natured.’ He turned towards the sound of crashing through the bushes. ‘Ah! Here comes Robert at last. Look!’ he called. ‘I haven’t got the dog, but I have found something much better.’
Louisa’s heart beat with agonising thuds as she stood among the children, waiting for him to ignore her and stride over to Georgiana. He pushed past the last branch and stood a moment, his gaze fixed upon her. Confused, she looked away and turned to Geoffrey, pretending to straighten his shirt-collar. Robert dropped his eyes to his own attire. Like John, he was dressed casually in a loose white linen shirt, old buckskins, obviously kept strictly for country use, and muddied top boots. His coat was slung over his shoulder. He raised his eyes back to hers with a rueful smile, but she was determinedly talking to the children.
‘Miss Lyntrell, it is a great pleasure to meet you again, and the rest of the family.’
He stayed for what seemed an age, greeting Georgiana, then Louisa heard John laugh and invite Georgiana to search with him for the dogs.
‘Come on, you children!’ he called. ‘Look lively. A penny to the first one to spot the rabbiting runaways!’
A thudding of departing feet. Louisa raised her eyes sufficiently to encounter his lordship’s shirt-collar.
‘How do you do, my lord?’
‘Miss Stapely.’
She raised her eyes as far as his mouth, saw the fine-lined firmness of his lips, and, dropping her head again, began to walk hastily after the children.
‘Miss Stapely—’ She stopped. ‘I owe you an apology, Miss Stapely. My comments to you when we last met were a gross impertinence, and I have spent many hours bitterly regretting them. I would like you to believe that such an outburst is uncharacteristic of me. Can you forgive me?’
A terrible confusion gripped her and she could barely speak.
‘Why, yes,’ she managed huskily. ‘My own words were such as would give you a disgust of me. I, too, am sorry.’
‘May we put it behind us and start again? As friends?’ As friends. More than she had dared hope. Less than she had dreamed.
‘Yes. If you wish, my lord.’
Gently, he took her hand and, placing it on his arm, began to lead her down the ride after the others. He spoke quietly, reassuringly, for a while, about Hetta and his mother, passing on their greetings and good wishes, but it took her an effort to answer in more than monosyllables. There was a pause. When he spoke again there was laughter alight in his voice. He found it hard to suppress the sudden joy he felt at this gift of an unexpected meeting.
‘I had meant to impress with my elegance when we next called at the Grange. I had sorted out my most immaculate coat, to John’s great surprise. Such foolish plans, when we all meet like this and I am dressed like any yokel!’
He laughed, but Louisa, nagged by the worry of whom he had hoped to impress, fought hard to respond with a semblance of the light-hearted ease she had felt at Alnstrop.
‘Why, it is only just that you should be served such a turn, when you remember my attire when I first arrived at your home. But I am disappointed that you lack a sackcloth cape. I had thought them all the rage at Alnstrop. Elegant coats are commonplace in Stoneham with our resident dandy—a sackcloth cape would be quite out of the common way.’
She managed to smile and look up at him. His eyes crinkled at the corners, just as she had remembered, as he smiled with her, and she felt momentarily breathless, but he talked on with reassuring ease.
‘A resident dandy? Who can this be? Tell me more.’
‘You have not met our Mr. Blane? Well, that is a pleasure in store for you, to be sure.’ She continued to talk about Mr. Blane and the devastating effects of his suave sophistication on the ranks of Georgiana’s admirers.
‘I fear there could be another contender in those ranks,’ Lord Alnstrop replied as she finished. He was looking down the ride ahead of them. ‘She is an outstandingly beautiful child. Who are her family?’
‘Mrs. Addiscombe’s first husband was Hugh Lyntrell, eldest son of the Huntingdon Lyntrells,’ Louisa re
sponded dully. ‘A very good family, I believe, and she has a considerable inheritance to come from them when she comes of age. She regularly visits her aunt, Alvira, who married Sir Philip Mondfort.’
‘Ah, yes, I know Sir Philip.’ Lord Alnstrop sounded reassured.
They had now caught up with the others, and the conversation was suddenly interrupted by the eruption of two muddied dogs and four breathless children into the ride.
‘I saw them first!’ Geoffrey claimed the minute his head appeared from the bushes.
‘That’s not true!’ came a squawk from behind him. ‘Isabel had already pointed before you shouted,’ Jane stated firmly. ‘We all saw her. She deserves the penny.’
Lord Alnstrop stepped decisively forward as Geoffrey’s face began to pucker, and spoke in tones that would be obeyed.
‘It sounds a grand hunt. Pennies all round, I think. Eldest first. Then I don’t expect to hear any more arguing. Understood?’ He dug in his pockets for coins, and the children, instantly subdued, thanked him with model politeness. The dogs lay exhausted at their feet.
Her thoughts in a turmoil of uncertain hopes and fears, Louisa resorted to her job in order to escape. She felt she must regain command of this situation.
‘We must go back,’ she announced in brisk governess tones. ‘We have already been out longer than usual. Come on, children. Make your farewells. Goodbye, Lord Alnstrop, Mr. Ferdinand.’
‘But if you are late,’ said John, grinning with appreciative mockery at her brisk tones, ‘then we must certainly escort you back to ensure you make good speed. Don’t you agree, Robert? I am sure you ladies would walk a good deal faster with a masculine arm to steady you.’