Scandal at Greystone Manor

by Mary Nichols

  ‘Not mourning, Issie, but something quieter out of respect for Mark’s feelings.’

  ‘You are always worrying about Mark’s feelings, Jane. I begin to wonder if you are not a little in love with him yourself.’

  ‘Nonsense.’ Her reply was sharp, but she turned away so that her sister could not see the consternation on her face. ‘Aunt, what do you think?’

  ‘Think about what?’ the lady asked vaguely. It was obvious that her deafness had prevented her from following the conversation.

  ‘I was saying that Isabel should not wear bright colours in deference to Mark’s state of mourning,’ Jane said very loudly.

  ‘You may be right,’ her ladyship said. ‘But there are some lovely shades of lilac and dove grey to be had.’

  ‘The only thing I have in grey is that plain old carriage dress I wore to come here. You do not expect me to wear that again, do you?’

  ‘It would serve,’ Jane said.

  ‘Well, I won’t. How can I shine in society in something as drab as that? The gentlemen will not like me in it.’

  ‘Gentlemen?’ Jane queried. ‘What gentlemen?’

  ‘Why, Mark and Mr Ashton, of course.’

  * * *

  She would not be moved and it was a resplendent Isabel in pink and green who greeted the gentlemen when they arrived. Jane was in a plain lilac trimmed with white lace. Both carried parasols for the day was warm.

  Bullock’s Museum was housed in the Egyptian Hall in Piccadilly, only a short distance away and they elected to walk. There were strange, often bizarre exhibits in the museum, things like skeletons and animal bones, weapons and armour, uniforms with bullet holes in them, and unusual plants. They wandered round the exhibits, then moved on to inspect the magnificent travelling coach used by Napoleon on his campaigns. He had abandoned it after his defeat at Waterloo and taken to his white riding horse to make his escape. When he knew escape was not possible he had appealed to King George for asylum in England, but this had been refused and since the island of Elba could not hold him, he had been sent to St Helena, way out in the Atlantic. His coach had been bought for the museum and people flocked to see it. Painted blue with gold ornamentation, it was very large and luxuriously appointed, with a folding bed, even a desk with pens, paper and ink, and compartments for maps and telescopes. It had bulletproof doors and blinds on the windows. It obviously needed a team of strong horses to pull it.

  ‘Did the Duke of Wellington ride about in a carriage like this?’ Jane asked Mark.

  ‘He had a carriage, though it was nothing like as ostentatious as this,’ he answered. ‘In any case, he preferred to ride.’

  ‘Did you meet him?’

  ‘Yes, several times, though I do not think he deigned to notice me.’

  ‘I shall write one of my letters to him. He is supposed to be in sympathy with the plight of his men and their families.’

  ‘I don’t know how you dare,’ Isabel put in.

  ‘Nothing ventured, nothing gained,’ she said, laughing.

  ‘Well, I think you are wasting your time,’ her sister went on. ‘It is a national problem. What can one woman do?’

  ‘If we all thought nothing could be done, nothing would be done,’ Mark said.

  ‘I sympathise with the children, of course I do,’ Isabel said. ‘And I always give a few coppers to beggars, but you are talking about thousands of pounds. You are becoming obsessed with it, Jane, and I, for one, am tired of hearing about it. If you and Mark wish to continue the conversation, Mr Ashton and I will find something else to talk about.’ She took Drew’s arm. ‘Come, Mr Ashton, show me the animals.’

  Drew looked towards Mark, who answered with a slight nod and Drew allowed himself to be led away.

  ‘Mark, ought we not to follow them?’ Jane asked, staring at their disappearing backs in consternation.

  ‘She is bored, Jane.’

  ‘That is no excuse. I am appalled by her behaviour and can only apologise on her behalf.’

  ‘Dear Jane, there is no need for you to apologise for anything. You are not your sister’s keeper.’

  His endearment meant nothing to him, but everything to her, but she must guard against letting him know that. ‘No, but I am concerned that she is not showing proper regard for your feelings.’

  ‘And do you know what my feelings are, Jane?’ he queried with a smile. ‘Can you read my mind?’

  ‘No, of course not.’ She felt the colour flare in her face and wished to end the conversation. ‘But I still think we should follow them for propriety’s sake.’

  He laughed suddenly and it was the first real laugh she had heard from him since his father died. ‘Whose reputation were you thinking of, Jane? Theirs or ours? Who is the pot and who the kettle?’

  She was obliged to smile at that. ‘Then, for all our sakes, let us rejoin them and endeavour not to discuss the Hadlea Children’s Home.’

  * * *

  The stuffed animals were in a separate part of the museum for which they had to pay an extra shilling. The entrance was a narrow corridor made to look like a rocky cave, which opened out into a tropical rainforest where the stuffed animals were set in lifelike poses among the vegetation. Drew and Isabel were not to be found there or in any other part of the building. Worried about what had happened to them, they went outside to find them standing on the walkway. Isabel was clinging on to Drew’s arm with both hands and had her head on his shoulder.

  ‘There you are,’ Drew said. ‘Miss Isabel felt faint and begged me to bring her out in the fresh air. I dared not leave her to fetch you.’

  ‘Oh, dear,’ Jane said, gently detaching her sister from Drew’s side and putting her arm about her shoulders. ‘Do you feel better now?’

  ‘Yes, a little.’

  ‘Do you think you can manage to walk back to Mount Street or shall we ask Mark to find us a hackney?’

  Mark turned to a little crossing sweeper, who was waiting anxiously to see if they wished to cross the road, gave him a penny and bade him run for a hackney. He sped off and was soon back with the hire vehicle.

  Thus they returned to Mount Street and in the few minutes the journey took, Isabel recovered her spirits. Jane found herself wondering if her sister had truly felt faint or if it had been act put on for Drew’s benefit, then upbraided herself for her uncharitable thought.

  ‘Issie,’ she said as soon as they were alone, ‘you should not have asked Mr Ashton to take you away from us. It was very embarrassing for Mark and it put me to the blush to think you could behave in such a forward manner, and to compound it by hanging on to Mr Ashton’s arm in that fashion was the outside of enough. I dread to think what Mark made of it.’

  ‘I nearly fainted and I don’t care what Mark thinks. And I will not have you scolding me.’

  ‘Issie!’ Jane was lost for words.

  ‘Well, I won’t. I wish I had not said I would marry Mark.’ And with that she flounced out of the room, leaving Jane’s heart and mind in turmoil. It was so difficult to tell if Isabel really meant what she said, or if it was a tantrum that she would regret.

  * * *

  Her sister was more subdued than usual when they sat down to a light meal with their aunt at five o’clock, but she would not hear of postponing the outing to Ranelagh Gardens on account of not feeling well earlier in the day.

  ‘I am perfectly recovered,’ she said. ‘We are only in town for a few days and heaven knows when we will ever come again if Papa is so determined we must economise, so I intend to make the most of it.’

  It was with a heavy heart Jane prepared for the evening when they would again be escorted by Mark and Mr Ashton. She wished the latter would go away, back to where he came from, but her wish was not to be granted.

  * * *

  Drew and Mark arrived promptly
at eight o’clock in Mark’s town carriage and all four of them were soon on their way to Chelsea.

  The gardens were a popular place where the aristocracy mixed with anyone able to afford the two-shillings-and-sixpence entrance fee. It had a Chinese Pavilion, an ornamental lake and several walks. Outdoor concerts were also staged there. Mark and Drew, with the ladies between them, made their way to the pavilion to listen to the music, which did not finish before it became dark. The area around the pavilion was lit by lanterns strung among the trees, but the surrounding tree-lined walks with their little arbours were in darkness and were therefore a popular place for romantic assignations.

  * * *

  In the crush of people leaving at the end of the concert, Jane became separated from her companions. She wandered round for several minutes trying to find them and was beginning to think her best plan was to make for the exit and wait there for them to find her, when she encountered Mark. ‘Where are Mr Ashton and Isabel?’ she asked. ‘I have been looking for you all for ages.’

  ‘I don’t know. I thought they were with you.’

  ‘No. I lost sight of them soon after everyone started to leave. Where can they have got to? If they have been separated, Issie will be frightened; she never liked the dark.’ She did not add that if they were together, it was one more indiscretion on her sister’s part.

  ‘Our best course is to go to the carriage lines and see if they have made their way there, before we do anything else.’

  ‘Then I will stay here and continue looking.’

  ‘No, Jane, we stay together. I don’t want you to become lost, too.’

  They went to where the carriages waited, but Jeremy had not seen Mr Ashton or Miss Isabel. They returned to the gardens, now in darkness because almost everyone had left, and began a systematic search of all the paths, taking one of the lanterns from the pavilion to light their way. ‘They must have missed their way trying to find the exit,’ Jane said. ‘Though how that could be when almost everyone was making their way out and they had only to follow, I do not know.’

  They walked down one path after another, with Mark swinging the lantern to and fro and in the process managing to disturb more than one pair of lovers to their dismay or indignation, but there was no sign of Drew and Isabel. They turned back towards the pavilion and here they encountered Drew. He was alone.

  ‘Where is Issie?’ Jane’s anxiety made her speak sharply.

  ‘I have taken her to the carriage. She is waiting there for you.’

  ‘She wasn’t there half an hour ago.’

  ‘No. She fainted and fell among the crowd. I picked her up and carried her back into the pavilion to recover, then I escorted her to the carriage and came looking for you.’

  ‘Then let us make haste and take her home,’ Mark said. ‘That is twice today she has felt unwell. I do hope she is not sickening for anything.’

  They returned to the carriage where Isabel sat waiting for them with Jeremy standing by. Jane rushed to join her. ‘Issie, what happened?’

  ‘There was such a crush of people, all pushing and pulling, and I could not move and you all left me and I fainted and would have been trampled underfoot if Drew had not seen what happened and rescued me.’

  ‘Then we are indebted to him,’ Mark said, taking his seat opposite her. Drew joined them and they were driven at speed back to Mount Street. The gentlemen did not stay long after delivering the ladies safely into the care of their aunt, who fussed round Isabel and suggested the physician should be called, but Isabel would not hear of it. ‘I am perfectly well now,’ she said. ‘It was the heat and the crush of people made me faint, nothing more than that. I am going to bed. Tomorrow we are going riding in Hyde Park. I would not miss that for the world.’

  Jane went to her own bed, but she could not sleep. Her sister had a robust constitution and had never fainted in her life, so what was happening now? Was she deliberately throwing herself into the path of Andrew Ashton? Did she really wish she had not accepted Mark’s proposal? It would cause the most dreadful scandal for her to back out now. It would break Mark’s heart and he would be tainted by it, too. He was too good a man to be treated in that fashion.

  * * *

  Mark was occupied with his lawyer all the following morning and Jane spent it writing more letters, while Isabel and their aunt went shopping. They did not return until it was almost time for the gentlemen to bring the riding horses to the house. Jane went to her room to change into her riding habit, which was the one she always wore for riding at home. It was plain and serviceable in a dark-green grosgrain. She heard the men arrive as she was slipping into her boots. After fastening a green hat on her dark hair with a hat pin, she went downstairs to greet them.

  They were standing in the hall, when Isabel came from her room and down the stairs. She was wearing a new riding habit in mauve velvet, cut in the military style with lines of braiding and gold-fringed epaulettes. Her head was crowned with a tall beaver hat with mauve feathers curling round the brim and touching her cheek. Her feet were encased in kid half-boots. Jane could only stare at her.

  ‘Here I am, gentlemen,’ she said cheerfully. ‘How do I look?’ And she twirled to show off her ensemble, though the very long skirt hampered her.

  ‘Lovely, as always,’ Mark said.

  ‘Magnificent,’ Drew added.

  Jane was silent as they made their way to the front of the house and mounted. The road was busy and they could only ride in single file until they entered Hyde Park, when they walked their horses at a sedate pace along the Row. It was not Jane’s idea of going for a ride, but she could not leave Isabel who was intent on seeing and being seen.

  * * *

  They had been riding for perhaps half an hour when another rider coming towards them stopped when he reached them. ‘Wyndham, good day,’ he said. He was a tall, elegant figure with dark curly hair and almost black eyes, which looked Isabel over appreciatively, then turned towards Jane and then to Drew. ‘Ashton, we meet again.’

  ‘Indeed,’ Drew said.

  ‘Wyndham, are you not going to present me to the ladies?’ the newcomer asked.

  Mark seemed reluctant, but he turned to Isabel first. ‘Isabel, may I present Lord Bolsover. My lord, Miss Isabel Cavenhurst, my future wife.’

  Bolsover swept off his tall beaver to her. ‘My felicitations, Miss Cavenhurst. My friend Mark is a fortunate man.’

  Isabel replied with a ready smile and a nod. ‘My lord.’

  Mark turned to Jane. ‘And this is Miss Jane Cavenhurst.’

  His lordship bowed again, but Jane could not bring herself to smile at him. She inclined her head without speaking.

  ‘Daughters of Sir Edward, I assume,’ he said. ‘And sisters to Teddy. I am indeed glad to make your acquaintances.’

  Isabel, who had never heard of Lord Bolsover in connection with her brother, was inclined to be friendly towards him. ‘Oh, are you a friend of Teddy’s?’

  ‘I know him well,’ he said. ‘But I have missed him of late. I do hope he is not ailing.’

  ‘Oh, no, he has gone to India to make his fortune.’

  Bolsover laughed aloud. ‘So that is where he has hidden himself. No matter, there are other ways of skinning a cat.’

  ‘Isabel, I do not think we should detain Lord Bolsover,’ Jane put in quickly. ‘And we must be on our way.’ She gathered up her reins to move off.

  ‘No doubt we shall meet again,’ he said, touching the brim of his hat. ‘I have business with Sir Edward.’

  ‘I do not like the sound of that,’ Jane said to Mark as they resumed riding. ‘It sounded almost like a threat.’

  ‘Don’t worry, he can do nothing while Teddy is out of the country.’

  ‘He could threaten Papa.’

  ‘I doubt he plans to leave London to go to Norfolk in the
middle of the Season, Jane. He can make a fortune fleecing the young bloods who come to town to enjoy themselves. He would not forgo that.’

  ‘Are you really his friend?’

  ‘Certainly not, no more than he is mine. I detest the man.’

  ‘Why?’ Isabel demanded, catching the end of the conversation. ‘I found him very civil.’

  ‘He is the one to whom Teddy owes money,’ Jane said. ‘It is that man who drove our brother to emigrate.’

  ‘It was Teddy’s own fault, if you ask me,’ Isabel said. ‘He did not have to gamble.’

  ‘You are right, of course, but I fear Lord Bolsover has not finished with us yet.’

  ‘What can he do?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Mark put in. ‘Let us forget him and enjoy the rest of our ride.’

  ‘Yes, let’s,’ Isabel said and kicked her horse into a trot and then a canter. ‘I’ll race you to that tree over there.’ And she was gone at a crazy gallop.

  There was nothing they could do but follow, led by Drew, who was the only one riding his own mount, which gave him the advantage. Jane was a good horsewoman, but on a hired hack could not catch her sister, let alone keep up with the men. She was well behind them when she saw her sister ride under the tree she had pointed out. In an effort to pull up, she was caught by an overhanging branch with such force it threw her to the ground.

  Drew was off his horse in an instant and kneeling beside her. He had her head cradled in his arms when Mark and Jane arrived and dismounted. Jane fell to her knees beside them.

  Isabel was unconscious, her face paper white. ‘I fear she is badly hurt,’ Drew said, with an unaccustomed tremor in his voice. ‘We must get her back to Mount Street as swiftly as possible and have a doctor fetched.’

  He turned from addressing Mark to look down at Isabel and the expression on his face filled Jane with alarm. It was more than just the concern of a gentleman towards an injured lady, more than that of a friend. He loved Isabel. She looked up at Mark to see if he had noticed, but if he had, he betrayed nothing of his feelings as he prepared to remount his horse and go for help.