Miss Winbolt and the Fortune Hunter

by Sylvia Andrew

  Rosa smiled sympathetically, but shook her head. ‘It’s certainly wise to think twice before taking such a big step as marriage. But, believe me, anyone who sees you and William together wouldn’t doubt for one moment that you are suited. Possibly even better than you realise. Tell me why you’re so worried. Was it something Maria Fenton said?”

  ‘I’m not sure. I don’t think so. I didn’t believe her, I really didn’t. She tried to hint that he only wants to marry for money, because Charlwood is costing such a lot to restore.’

  ‘Ah! I’m sorry to have to say this, Emily, but I’m sure the poor woman is jealous. She hoped to capture William for herself. She can’t seriously believe such a thing of him. You must forget whatever she said—it was simple jealousy.’

  ‘There isn’t much for her to be jealous about,’ said Emily unhappily. ‘William has never pre tended he loves me!’

  Rosa smiled. ‘You haven’t said you love him, either. Do you?’

  Emily got up and walked away. ‘I mustn’t,’ she said in a stifled voice. ‘This marriage was always meant to be a…a sensible arrangement, not a love match. But then Mrs Gosworth…and now the Fenton woman… And I’ve heard what one or two of the neighbours are saying—that they admire William for his astuteness… I’m beginning to wonder whether it isn’t altogether too sensible.’

  ‘Really, Emily, you are being foolish. Very foolish! I thought you knew William better than that. No, don’t shake your head. Listen to me! No one could deny that you have a considerable fortune, or that re storing Charlwood is an expensive occupation. There will always be some who will link the two together and come up with an uncharitable answer. But I will wager anything you like that William is not marrying you for either of those reasons.’ She gave a little laugh and said, ‘You are so blind, both of you! However, I’ll keep my ideas on the true situation between you to myself for the moment. You’ll have to work it out for yourselves. But I am quite certain that William Ashenden’s motives…’ she put her hands on Emily’s shoulders and gave her a little shake at each word ‘…are…not…mercenary! Put that thought right out of your mind if you don’t want to risk spoiling your future hap pi ness.’ She got up and shook out her dress. ‘Now, let’s do something useful. Philip will be back with the children soon. They will all be looking for something to stave off starvation! Shall we see what we can do?’

  She refused to say any more and Emily was forced to follow Rosa’s lead and suppress her doubts for the rest of the day.

  But that night she lay sleep less as her fears returned to torment her. They were not without foundation. Ever since she had been of an age to marry, she had been the target of men tempted by her fortune. At a very early stage she had been the victim of such a man, saved at the last moment from a disastrous marriage by hearing his true opinion of Emily Winbolt. ‘A cool fish’, he had called her to the woman he was actually in love with. ‘I’d sooner go to bed with a block of ice.’ Hurt and humiliated, she had since then always been ready to suspect the worst of any man who showed an interest in her.

  Was she now, at this late stage, to be taken in again, deceived by the very unusual circumstances of her acquaintance with William? It had never occurred to her to question his motive until others had put the idea into her head. But now the old doubts crowded in on her like a cloud of stinging gnats. Was his plea for her to marry him just a clever ruse to gain access to a considerable fortune? Had he taken cynical advantage of her loneliness and uncertainties to finance his ambitions for Charlwood? Certainly he must be spending vast sums on its restoration—Philip had said as much. And what did she know about William’s re sources? Nothing. Nothing at all. In one respect Maria Fenton was right. There had recently been delays in the building work at Charlwood, and William had said he was going up to London ‘to sort out a few financial matters’. Now, for the first time, she began to wonder exactly what he had meant.

  But as the night wore on, she began to think about the man himself, and slowly the clouds of doubt dispersed. William was an honourable man. She had spent a great deal of time in his company, and she felt she knew him better than she knew anyone else—his intelligence, his patience, his humour, his annoying tendency to tease, his honesty—and his determination to keep his promise to his brother to look after his children. These were all William, and she liked him. He was so very dear to her. She should back her own judgement, and trust him. Emily went to sleep at last, looking forward again to seeing William, hearing his voice, being in his company…

  When she was next at Charlwood, Emily saw that work had been resumed on the house. She asked what the problem had been, and William told her that the builders had made a mistake in ordering some stonework, but that had now been put right. So much for Maria Fenton’s insinuations! What a fool she had been to pay any attention to the woman!

  Later that day they walked up to the folly; while the children chased each other up and down the hill, they stood looking at the view. The lush green of summer was beginning to give way to the tints of autumn—gold, scarlet, amber and bronze. Autumn was slowly advancing. In no time it would be winter.

  Emily gazed at the clear blue sky arching over the multicoloured landscape and gave a sigh of contentment. ‘It is all so beautiful. I hope the children will be happy here.’ William took her hands and turned her to face him. For once completely serious, he said, ‘They have had a rough time of it since their parents died. Juana’s family rejected them, and it proved impossible to bring them back to England as soon as I wanted, but they weren’t happy while they waited. Now I intend them to have a normal, loving home here at Charlwood. Will you give me your help to make it one? It’s time you gave me your answer.’

  Emily had made up her mind the night after her talk with Rosa and she answered him now without hesitation. ‘It’s yes. I will marry you, and I’ll make the children as happy as I can.’ The children were now at the foot of the hill, and they waved and started running up towards her, laughing and giggling, covered in twigs and bits of dry grass. She watched them approach. ‘I’m very fond of them already, William.’

  ‘I know. Emily, I swear you won’t regret this marriage.’ Cup ping her face in his hands, he kissed her then, slowly and sweetly. For one moment she was back in the hollow on the hill at Shearings, drowning in the delight of a man’s kiss. Then the children were upon them, Laura clasping her knees and demanding to be kissed, too. With typical blunt ness James asked, ‘Why were you kissing Miss Winbolt, Uncle William?’

  ‘Because, my lad, I’m going to marry her, and we shall all live together at Charlwood.’

  There was no doubt about the children’s reaction. James’s usually serious face broke into a huge grin, and Laura skipped around them all for joy. ‘I told you she would, James, I told you she liked us,’ she shouted glee fully. ‘And now she’s going to look after us all the time.’ They were both so excited that they took off down the hill again, whooping and laughing.

  ‘That seems to have gone down rather well,’ said William, looking slightly dazed. ‘It makes me wonder if my reaction when you said you would was too re strained. Should I have been more exuberant, too? Leapt in the air, perhaps? Turned a somersault?’

  Emily was suddenly filled with a bubbling hap pi ness. ‘I’m glad you didn’t,’ she said, demurely. ‘Your kiss was…more than adequate. I’m not sure I could have taken much more excitement.’

  ‘My dear girl, you don’t know the half of it,’ he said softly, taking her hand and pressing a kiss into the palm. ‘And teaching you the rest is one of the things I most look forward to. But I’ll take care. You’ll enjoy being married to me, dearest Emily, I promise you.’

  He laughed and hugged her when she blushed scarlet, and his arm was round her as together they went down the hill.

  Things were less happy in the Fenton house hold. The news that the owner of Charlwood was to marry Emily Winbolt, and that the whole family would take up residence in the Dower House very soon after, was greeted with furio
us disbelief.

  ‘You told Kidman you’d break it up!’ snarled Walter Fenton. ‘You swore that the Winbolt woman would never marry Ashenden if she thought he was a fortune hunter! You told him you could convince her. And now what?’

  Equally angry, his sister-in-law snapped back, ‘I did my best, but she didn’t believe me. Can I help it if the girl is a fool?

  ‘You’ll have to have a better excuse than that when Kidman comes this time, Sis! And don’t tell me I’m vulgar. You’re in no position to criticise anyone. Perhaps you’d better start thinking of where you’ll go when he sends us packing.’

  ‘He won’t do that,’ said Maria confidently. ‘Not when there’s a chance I might remember more of what Edric said on his death bed. You leave it to me.’

  From the moment her engagement to William had been made public, Emily lived in a whirl of activity. Now officially the future mistress of the Dower House, she was consulted about the furnishings, about the staff to be engaged and a hundred and one other things. Lady Deardon seemed anxious to help, perhaps because she and Sir Reginald unfortunately had to travel up to Yorkshire three days before the wedding.

  ‘I am so sorry, my dear,’ she said to Emily, ‘but my own daughter is expecting to be delivered of her first infant within the next fort night. She’s our only child and I must be with her. It’s William’s fault. I was always telling him to make up his mind, and now that he has it’s too late for us to be at his wedding. We are leaving early the day after tomorrow for Yorkshire. William and the children will spend a last night with us, then they will have to move into the Dower House. Thirle will be completely boarded up. Most of the servants who are not going with us have left already.’ She sounded annoyed as she went on, ‘All such a scram bled business! It’s a real blessing you are to marry, for I don’t know what would happen to those children if they were left in William’s hands alone. But I have to say, it’s a joy to see you with them. They are so fond of you.’

  ‘And I of them, Lady Deardon,’ said Emily with a smile.

  ‘We’ve arranged to take a last look at the Dower House tomorrow. Will you be there?’

  ‘I don’t think so. Philip is taking the children to Temperley for the day, and Rosa and I are planning to inspect the arrangements at the church.’

  ‘Then I’ll say goodbye now. We shall stay up in Yorkshire for some months, and after that we are to spend time in London. You must ask William to bring you to stay with us there. Be very happy, my dear.’

  On that note Lady Deardon embraced Emily warmly and left.

  The following day Rosa decided she wanted to go with Philip and the children to see her father, so they agreed that inspecting the church could wait till the evening and Emily drove over to Charlwood after all. When she got there the Deardons’ carriage was blocking part of the drive, and the grooms were laughing and talking to Mrs Lilley, so she left the gig and her own groom with the rest and went on foot up to the Dower House. Lady Deardon had a good carrying contralto, and Emily realised that William was getting a scolding. Amused, and not at all eager to interrupt, Emily walked quietly nearer.

  ‘This wedding of yours should have taken place weeks ago, William! All this scurrying and hurrying, and no one of any importance invited. You should be ashamed. The neighbourhood is bound to talk.’

  ‘Let them! As long as Emily and I are satisfied, it surely does not concern anyone else. And, apart from yourselves, everyone who is important to me will be there, ma’am.’

  Unappeased, Lady Deardon swept on. ‘I kept telling you to make up your mind, but you wouldn’t listen to me. I did what I could. You said you wanted a rich wife and I found you not one, but two—Emily Winbolt and Maria Fenton were both young, and both respectable. And, what is more, they both had the fortune you said you needed for Charlwood. Perhaps that was a mistake. One would have been enough. You would have made your mind up sooner and there would have been time for a decent celebration.’

  Unable to move, Emily was forced to listen as Sir Reginald interrupted. ‘Well, I have to say, Sarah, I think he’s chosen the right one.’ He gave a rich chuckle. ‘Though if I remember rightly, Will, the Fenton woman was your first choice. You weren’t at all keen on Emily Winbolt.’ The chuckle grew louder. ‘What was it you called her? A plain, strong-minded woman! That was it.’

  ‘She still is,’ said William curtly.

  Several minutes—or was it hours?—later, Emily was driving at a break neck pace back to Shearings. In her fever to get away she had for got ten her groom and was alone in the gig, rattling through the lanes, deaf to the noise as she scraped its sides on the turns, and blind to anything else on the road. Her headlong rush stopped just short of Shearings. Philip and Rosa were out for the day, but the servants would be there, with curious eyes and sidelong glances. She sat for a while, trying to think where she could go. It was hard to think at all. The pain was making it difficult to get her breath, and the cruel words were hammering in her head: Plain, strong-minded…. She still is. She still is. She still is… Emily bent her head and put her hands to her ears, but the voice, William’s voice, curt, dismissive, did not go away: Still is, still is, still is…

  ‘Miss Emily! Are you all right, miss?’

  She looked up. Will Darby was standing in front of the gig, an expression of concern on his homely face.

  ‘Yes. Yes, I’m all right, W-Will. But I…was just trying to…to decide what to do about the gig. I want to walk…to walk back to Shearings, you see.’

  ‘I could take it for you, miss. But are you sure you’re all right?’

  Emily straightened up and made herself talk in her usual decisive manner. ‘Of course I am. But I need a touch of exercise. Thank you.’ She got out, handed the reins over, and waited till Will Darby touched his cap and drove off.

  She watched him go and then took the path that ran along side the stream. She was like a sleep walker, making for her goal without consciously knowing where it was. But after a few minutes she had reached it, and sat down in the hollow on the hillside below the oak tree. She looked round. When she had last been here the ground had been a refuge after her fall, soft and welcoming, and overhead she had seen a canopy of bright green leaves. Now the trees were nearly bare, and their dead leaves lay on the ground, crack ling harshly when she trod on them. She had become a different person here with a stranger who had com forted her, made her feel cherished, and then had aroused such a storm of passion in her… Why had she not seen then that this was just one of fate’s cruel tricks? She had been off her guard when she met him again, more afraid of discovery than suspicious of a possible fortune hunter. Later, still blind, she had been amused by him, had learned to like him, to trust him. For a short while she had even allowed herself to fall in love with him.

  And now it was all over. William Ashenden was just another fortune hunter, and she was not going to marry him, after all. Why had she not seen at the beginning that he was actually just like all the others? Why had she for got ten the harsh lessons she had learned when young? Philip was a beautiful child; Emily was plain. Philip was charming, attractive to all; Emily was too in de pen dent, too stubborn. What was the word again? Strong-minded. A plain, strong-minded woman. She still is She still is. She still is… She took a sharp breath as the pain hit her again like a knife thrust. Then she smiled bitterly. At least, unlike her first betrothed, William Ashenden could hardly call her ‘a cold fish’! He knew better than that. That was something he had found here in this very place. Had it amused him to find out how vulnerable she really was?

  She sat lost in her thoughts for some time, till an aware ness of her surroundings began to return. The sun had gone in, and she was cold. Philip and Rosa had promised to deliver the children back to Thirle, but they would soon be home. If she wasn’t there, they would start to wonder where she was. She must face the world again. She got up, dusted down her clothes and set off for Shearings.

  On the way she discovered that there was one thing at least she was sure
about. Rosa and Philip would have to wait till tomorrow before she told them anything. In her present state she would find it impossible to face their consternation, the inevitable questions her decision not to marry William Ashenden would provoke. Above all, they would want to know what would happen to the children, and she wasn’t ready even to think about that. This awful sense of betrayal left no room for anything else. She would avoid it all by pleading a sick headache and retiring to her room as soon as she got in.

  Rosa was sympathetic, but gave in to Emily’s request to be left in peace, and Emily spent a sleep less night struggling to regain something of her former calm good sense, berating herself for her weakness when she failed. William Ashenden had broken through the coolly detached approach to life with which she had protected herself. Today, with a few short words, he had destroyed years of patiently regained self-esteem. Now she had to learn all over again that Emily Winbolt was plain. And not only plain, but quite pathetically stupid, too! Stupid enough to have believed that in one man’s eyes at least she was beautiful—because he cared for her.

  She lay awake, trying to plan how she could tell Rosa and Philip that her marriage would not take place. They would want to know why, but how could she tell them about William Ashenden? How could she bear to say the words, when it felt as if each syllable was twisting a knife in her heart. And then there was William himself. What was she to say to him? If only she could forget her heart and use her head!

  As dawn was breaking she came to a decision. William was bringing James and Laura round to Shearings some time during the morning. Before they came, she would break the news to Rosa and Philip, and ask them to look after the children, while she spoke to their uncle. Her mind balked at trying to imagine what she would say, and how he would reply. But however it went, they would have to sort out what was to happen afterwards. With the Deardons gone, and Thirle closed up for the winter, the only place where the three Ashendens could stay was the Dower House. But someone else, not her, would have to look after the children. Perhaps Rosa could find a suitable woman in the village to be a stopgap until a governess or nurse could be appointed. Emily herself would go to stay with her grandfather in London for a while.