A Most Unusual Lady

by Janet Grace

  ‘Dear Lord, Hermione, aren’t you ever going to offer me a cup of that tea? Appalling journey. Coachman’s an idiot. I am gasping for a drink!’

  At a helpless glance from her employer, Louisa, suppressing a smile, rang for another cup, and a pot of fresh tea.

  Aunt Alvira collapsed abruptly into a chair. She was a small, wiry woman, with a sharply good-humoured face, bright, intelligent eyes, and a decided air of command. Her clothes were plain, but of excellent cut and quality, her pelisse sensibly warm and quite without trimmings. She pulled off her bonnet impatiently and flung it on the chair beside her, shaking out tight curls of red hair, now streaked with grey.

  ‘I’ll call Herring to take your pelisse and bonnet,’ Mrs. Addiscombe ventured weakly.

  ‘Lord, no, Hermione! Don’t give the old fool anything else to think about, or nothing will get done. I’ll take them up when I go to my room. Just wanted to let you know I’d arrived before I retire. I am exhausted!’

  ‘Well, I must say this is a very unexpected pleasure, Alvira. I trust all is well at home?’

  Mrs. Addiscombe sounded totally bemused, and waved a limp hand at the table as the maid appeared with a fresh tray of tea. Louisa quietly took over and poured out, so it was not until Lady Mondfort had taken her cup of steaming tea, shamelessly kicked off her shoes, and leant back with a sigh of relief, that she answered Mrs. Addiscombe’s query.

  ‘No, all is not well. Sir Philip had been unwell for some time, and I always like to nurse him myself. That is why we shall be starting back immediately tomorrow morning, and I shall be taking Miss Stapely as well, of course.’

  ‘Starting tomorrow? We? Taking Miss Stapely? Alvira, what are you talking about?’

  Mrs. Addiscombe was clutching her hair in bewilderment.

  ‘I should have thought that was quite obvious, Hermione. Georgiana here writes me a letter saying you and that fool husband of yours want to marry her off to that unspeakable man Blane ... what would you expect me to do? I am taking her up to town, of course. Completely dissociate her name from that of that dreadful man, introduce her about in society a little, and hope not too much damage has been done to her prospects. I can’t take her about. I am too tied nursing my dear Philip, and I won’t leave him even for Georgiana, so it is a real blessing you already have such an admirably suited companion to go about with her.

  ‘Of course, people are beginning to leave town for the resorts, but not many have left yet, there will be invitations enough that I can organise, and Georgiana can use the quiet time over the summer months to learn her way about town. I trust it will all work very nicely, and dear Philip will hardly notice the two girls living with us. I have no intention at all of shirking my duty as guardian to my niece, Hermione.’

  ‘But, Alvira, Miss Stapely is the children’s governess...’

  ‘Now don’t make complications, Hermione. Give the children a summer break, or better still, teach them yourself. Do you good to have a job of work to do. You are never busy enough.’

  Louisa looked queryingly at her employer, but Mrs. Addiscombe just flapped a wan hand at her.

  ‘Just do what Alvira says, my dear. We always do in the end, so it is so much easier to agree to it immediately.’

  Thus, on that slight flap of a pale hand, Louisa found she had suddenly to adjust her ideas to the prospect of returning to life in London, to the social round she had hated meetings with the cousins who had despised her, and possibly even seeing the grandfather who had disowned her father and all their family. Her thoughts whirled. Only Aunt Honoria had seemed her friend in London, and she knew Aunt Honoria had taken a house in Bath. She shrugged a little. She would have to cope. There was no one else to turn to.

  Georgiana, who had been hardly comprehending this abrupt turn of events, suddenly spoke.

  ‘But John? What about John?’

  ‘John? Good grief, girl, I thought the man’s name was James!’

  ‘No, this is another man, a man I truly love. We were planning to marry as soon as possible—’

  ‘Don’t say another word! This all sounds worse and worse. Thank God I came when I did. No, don’t even try to interrupt. I recommend you two girls go straight up to organise your packing. We will be leaving first thing. And now I am going to retire to my bed, which I trust will be properly aired by now.’

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Padgett, the Alnstrop butler, permitted himself a shake of the head as he watched his lordship’s study door close sharply. Each day since he had arrived back from Stoneham it had been the same. Lord Alnstrop had leafed through the newly arrived mail with increasing frustration, and the study door had closed ever more sharply as he retired unsatisfied. Today his lordship’s frown was pronounced, and his temper had been frayed since he awoke. Padgett was perplexed. As far as the staff knew, and Padgett prided himself on knowing everything the staff knew and perhaps a little more, neither Miss Hetta nor Master John was causing his lordship any anxiety at present. Her ladyship was improving again. All should have been serene in the lordly life. Padgett scratched his head.

  In his study, Robert paced the carpet, fiercely punching one clenched fist into the palm of his other hand. Her reply had not come. He was certain he would recognise it immediately, even though he was not familiar with her writing, but each day brought only tedious bills, or business mail, or long screeds addressed to Cousin Esther from her lonely widowed friends with long empty hours to fill. Robert derided himself for watching the post like a blushing youth, each day swore to himself that tomorrow he would ignore the mail and be out on the estate all day, but ever and again found himself in his study, anxiously waiting.

  Why had she not replied? Tenderness, anxiety, anger and doubts mingled in his thoughts as he mulled the question endlessly, fruitlessly. Anything could have happened. He would simply have to wait. But calmly waiting was not in Lord Alnstrop’s nature, so he paced, fretted, and was regrettably short with the staff.

  He had sorted out Cousin Esther’s problems, and Mama, who had indeed been poorly, was very much better. He would soon be free to leave, but he was uncertain what to do. Should he wait for her letter to arrive? Go immediately and attempt to see her alone at the Addiscombes, ignorant of her reaction? Had she been offended at his words, or at his actions in the quarry? Perhaps she was still set on her much vaunted independence? Her farewell in the sick-room had been very abrupt.

  He flung himself into a chair and picked up the newspaper, sharply shaking out the pages, but his eye was immediately caught by a list of advertisements for prospective governesses, and with a heartfelt oath he flung the paper aside. On a sudden impulse he strode out of the study and up the main stair. He had decided to visit his mother.

  The Dowager Lady Alnstrop regarded her eldest son fondly. He was sitting by her bed, scowling at his clasped hands, and had been doing so in silence since arriving in her room. She had known for some days that he had something he wished to say to her, something that must wait until she was better, and he was ready.

  He did not find it easy to confide. Since he had taken over his estates at his father’s death, when he was still little more than a boy, he had done everything in his power to spare her anxiety and to give his younger brother and sister a settled and carefree upbringing. This had forced upon him a reserve in discussing his worries and decisions, a determination that, while everyone else’s problems were his to solve, his own were no one’s concern but his. Just sometimes, however, he would come and talk with his mother. She wished very much that he would find a wife who could also be his confidante and friend.

  He seemed to come to a decision within himself, and with a rueful smile he looked up at her.

  ‘I need to ask your advice, Mama, for you are a woman and can best tell me what I should do. But first let me tell you about John. He wished me to tell you all about his Georgiana, and he is most hopeful of your encouragement and support. It began when we went to pay our social calls, acknowledging the cards left at the man
or by our neighbours while we were so busy out on the land. We called at a house called Stoneham Grange, in response to a card left by the owner, Mr. Addiscombe..

  Lady Alnstrop listened quietly while he outlined the growth of the friendship between the two households. She did not tell him that Charles Stapely’s girl had confessed to her all those weeks ago where she was going, and what job she would do. She watched his face, the tenderness that flooded it when he spoke of this picnic he had arranged, the sudden tension as he abruptly finished his tale.

  ‘John told me he intended asking for her hand in marriage at the assembly in Aleminster, and formally approaching the family immediately afterwards. I think it will do very well, Mama. She is a lovely girl, outstandingly beautiful, but with an unexpectedly charming nature. The family may not be of the best, but on her father’s side at least are perfectly respectable, and I am told there is a considerable inheritance. I think she will make him very happy, and I would rather wish him that than any number of more advantageous connections.’

  Alnstrop’s mother thought his tone was defiant, and she smiled at him.

  ‘My dear boy, I could not agree more. She sounds charming, and I hope to meet her soon. If you and John are both happy with the match, then I am certain I shall be too. And now, my dear, tell me what worries you, and I will give you my advice.’

  He drew breath.

  ‘Well, Mama, it may surprise you to know that the Miss Stapely who is governess to the Addiscombe children is that same Miss Stapely who stayed with us here after that disastrous smuggling escapade of John’s.’

  He stopped abruptly, a stricken look on his face.

  ‘I am a fool. I had not meant to mention anything of that to you...’

  She chuckled. ‘I hear a great deal more of what goes on than you might suppose, my boy, and by and large it keeps me very amused. Why don’t you tell me of your friendship with Miss Stapely from the very beginning? I found her a most likeable and unusual girl.’

  His face lit up.

  ‘Yes, isn’t she, Mama? That is what I told her. But are you sure you are strong enough for another long tale?’ Lying about the pain came easily to her now, so she smiled and nodded.

  He began his story back in the spring, with a chance meeting in Thesserton village.

  He did not spare himself as he talked, pointing out all his foolish handling of their friendship, stumbling for words to describe the growth of his love, then ending with the despairing cry, ‘Why does she not answer?’

  She leant to take his strong hand in her shrivelled one. ‘There may be a thousand answers to that, my dear, and you will solve none of them by sitting here. Go to her, and demand an answer. Go immediately. Misunderstandings can only breed unhappiness, you must confront them face to face. And Robert,’ she smiled, tiredly now, ‘I very much hope you reach an understanding with her. I would dearly like to see you happy.’ She paused. ‘Did you say you left the letter with John to deliver? I thought so. Well, I may be doing him a grave maternal injustice, but I don’t think I would trust my life’s hopes to John’s memory, and especially not when his mind is so full of his own concerns.’ She saw his sudden speculative frown. ‘Don’t go accusing him, I may be quite wrong. He is a caring boy at heart. Just keep it in mind. There. Kiss me goodbye now. I will see you again when you return.’

  His mind made up, set only on seeing Louisa as soon as possible, Lord Alnstrop sprang the horses over the country lanes at speeds that would have called forth heartfelt admiration and envy from his brother. He swept up to Little Stoneham Manor with a cheery ‘Halloo!’ and leapt lightly down.

  He was disconcerted to find his brother nowhere about, and to hear from the servants that he had departed unexpectedly for London, leaving no explanation, and precious few instructions for running the estate in his absence. Alnstrop was not pleased at being forced to cope with a number of sensible queries that should have been automatically dealt with by John before his departure.

  It was evening before he was free to drive over to Stoneham Grange, and, although he had been unwilling to wait so long, he hoped that at least it would mean he would find his love freed from her duties with the children. He even toyed wistfully with the idea of the shrubbery by moonlight.

  Returning later, his senses felt bludgeoned by the effort of gaining a sensible explanation of events from Mrs. Addiscombe. She had been sitting alone, drooping over a novel, a bowl of peaches in her lap, and a damp handkerchief in her hand. She had been longing for a sympathetic ear to confide in, and her sentiments descended into bathos at the mere mention of her daughter, Lord Alnstrop’s brother, her husband, or Lady Alvira Mondfort.

  It was not an easy conversation, and it took Alnstrop some time to disentangle the truth of the matter, and most particularly the information that dear Miss Stapely had, with Georgiana, been wilfully removed from the house by Lady Mondfort—thus putting all her children’s future education at risk—and summarily deposited in London, probably against her will.

  Somewhat confused, but nothing daunted, Lord Alnstrop returned to Little Stoneham determined to continue his pursuit of his beloved first thing in the morning.

  It was gone noon the next day before he eventually found himself driving through the streets of London, and pulling up with relief before the Ferdinand family’s town house. He was irritated to find that John, whom he found he wanted rather urgently to see, had not made use of Ferdinand House. He must have decided to stay with Henrietta.

  After a light meal, Robert decided he would walk, rather than drive, over to the Cairshaw residence, and set off through the busy streets, feeling more cheerful than he had for several days. It was good to be in town again, he knew he was near Louisa, and she had been providentially separated from those doubtless delightful, but irritatingly ever present, children.

  His hopes were high, and he was whistling under his breath when a little gloved hand clutched his arm.

  ‘Robert! Darling Robert, it has been an age since I saw you last! Wherever have you been lurking all this time? I had no idea you were coming up to town; darling Hetta never said a word. How naughty of her to keep it such a secret from all of us who have been pining for a glimpse of you!’

  He was gazing down into the engaging face of Annabelle Whitley. She had not changed so very much since the last time he had gracefully eluded her clutches: the same riot of red-gold hair, the same sharply mischievous face, the same effusive nature. She was amusing, but wretchedly persistent, and he wished whole-heartedly that she were somewhere else.

  ‘How do you do, Miss Whitley?’ he replied warily.

  ‘Now, Robert, that is not kind. Miss Whitley, indeed! And after all these years—far more than I would care to mention. I shan’t let you go easily now I have found you, you know, for meeting you like this is most providential. I had to send my stupid maid home, for she was half-dead of a headache, so I sent her back with the heavy packages while I went to buy new ribbon. So you see, I am quite unescorted. Is that not dreadful? As a gentleman, you cannot possibly abandon me!’

  He glanced hopefully round the street, but it seemed to be true. She was unescorted. He frowned.

  ‘That was foolish behaviour, Annabelle. I will see you home, but then I wish to carry on immediately. I am on my way to call on Hetta. She does not yet know I have arrived in town.’

  She held his arm closely as they walked on, leaning against him a little, and peeking up at him confidingly from beneath the brim of her elegant little bonnet.

  ‘I can tell you that Hetta is not at home, for I saw her out driving with that young brother of yours. But she will be at Mrs. Morgan’s tomorrow night. Why don’t you come? Dolly Morgan would warmly welcome such an eligible man.’

  She giggled provocatively up at him, then stopped and turned, perplexed, to see what it was that had startled Lord Alnstrop to a standstill. He was gazing across the street, to the doorway of an extremely exclusive dressmaker. Just entering was a trio of customers, a middle-aged lady with force
ful features and grizzled red hair, a young girl of luxuriant blonde hair and quite exceptional beauty, and another girl, a little older, with her chestnut locks tucked demurely under her bonnet.

  The blonde girl noticed Alnstrop first, and, giving him a little wave of greeting, laughed and turned to point him out to her companion. Alnstrop started forward to cross as the second girl stared at him, but she abruptly swung round and vanished, with the other two, into the dressmakers.

  A laden dray trundled heavily past, cutting off their view, and making conversation impossible.

  ‘Well, you can hardly chase them in there, you would not be at all welcome,’ Annabelle ventured, once it had gone. ‘Tell all, my dear. Who are they, and what are they doing with Lady Mondfort? Has the little blonde captured your stony heart after all these years? You certainly didn’t seem to be a favourite with the other.’

  But Annabelle could discover nothing more than their names from Lord Alnstrop, and found him a taciturn companion. He abandoned her at her house as soon as he decently could, but she waved to him cheekily, none the less, and promised to see him soon.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Louisa, on the morning Lord Alnstrop left Stoneham, woke up in her luxurious bed in the Mondforts’ house in Gudrigan Square. She was relieved to discover that she was angry. Very angry. The see-saw of emotions that had tormented her over the last few days seemed to have resolved itself.

  He had obviously gone. The short visit to the nursery had been only to make his excuses, and the microscope and puzzle for the child were no more than cheap peace offerings for his ungentlemanly behaviour in the quarry. Her fury raged as she remembered how she had responded to his advances, when he must have been merely amusing himself. Maybe, she thought bitterly, such men as he graduated from annoying parlour-maids on the back stairs in their youth to seducing governesses on picnics in their maturity. She scowled. Well, never again! From now on she would do her work, fend for herself, and breed Aunt Honoria’s pugs in her old age. She did not care.