Life had settled for Laura. A degree of order had been restored, aided by the splendour of her surroundings.
Sloping banks of profuse green grass ran down to meet a series of small streams, each in turn feeding the remarkable lake that glimmered whenever the sun's rays struck at its surface. Laura removed her shoes, exposing dainty feet, her toes sampling the soft carpet.
While luxuriating in the lawn’s finery, Laura looked on as the wrought iron gates of Marlbrook parted. The opening sanctioned the entry of a coach.
The conveyance negotiated the curves of the driveway, dust trailing the vehicle to form curls of creamy white smoke.
Lady Catherine was a guest of Lady Cynthia’s and would be absent for several more days. The identity of the visitor remained unknown, as Laura made her way back to the kitchen.
The commotion generated by the newcomer extended its reach to the scullery, a room relatively isolated from the main part of the house. Laura stood in awe, as she witnessed the staff scuttle about in disarray. However, the reason for their confusion soon became obvious. The butler, his face a beetroot red and nose aglow, lit by his underlying hysteria, heralded his findings from the top of the stairs. Lord Henry’s unexpected homecoming created a great deal of to do.
Laura had always known that Lord Henry would take up residence, after all this was his home, but that day had always seemed unrelated to today. A jumbled reaction occurred within Laura. Lord Henry had been privy to very intimate facts, and she had shared a familiarity with him that could hardly be considered appropriate. Her only saving grace was that Lord Henry had departed the manor before witnessing her final predicament, an indication that all her troubles may not yet be beyond repair.
Laura had no idea how his Lordship would receive her nor did she have any immediate plans to find out. Her mind sharpened, with obscurity selected as the best way forward. With the Mistress absent, she would be safe for a short period, as the formalities of introduction would not be adhered to until then.
Her duties completed, Laura made for the safety and solitude of her room. Lord Henry’s portrait was mounted on the wall lining the stairs. Laura examined his likeness and came to the conclusion that the painting did him an injustice. The artist, while capturing Lord Henry’s striking features to perfection, had failed to provide an insight into the true character of the man.
As Laura reached the landing on her floor, the artist and Lord Henry still occupied her mind, her awareness dimmed by concentration. The mouth of the corridor, positioned to her right, had yet to be reached, when the collision occurred. At full pace, Laura met with an obstacle and, in that instant, she managed to unravel all her cleverly thought out plans.
Dazed, Laura’s heart beat furiously. Her body had rebounded off a man and had come to an abrupt halt back where she had started. Her victim had not been so lucky. Elegance of dress had failed to come to his assistance.
When surprise dispersed, a mass of unidentified matter rose in Laura’s throat, the lump restricting her ability to swallow. His Lordship’s grim features added to the tension, and Laura could feel the familiar heat of embarrassment swamp her.
“My Lord – please forgive me. I am truly sorry, but we have been at odds with your unexpected arrival and…” and Laura’s words trailed away. Laura had no idea what her garbled apology had to do with their mishap, and she had no intention of finding out. An untidy and somewhat hurried curtsy completed, she began a rapid retreat for her room.
Stunned by the rather unusual circumstances of their reunion, Lord Henry’s senses were shocked but not diminished. The woman would not get away that lightly.
“Madam!”
Laura came to an abrupt standstill and hesitantly turned around, and incredible though it seemed to Lord Henry, he thought the woman might actually slight him by ignoring his command.
Lord Henry took charge. “If I am not inconveniencing you, would you be so kind as to indulge me with your presence. That is, madam, unless you have a more pressing engagement to run off to?”
Fresh, no - untarnished was the word Lord Henry worked to locate, as he likened Laura to a summer nymph with merely a halo of flowers absent. His appraisal took in the sight of her sunburned cheeks, a scarcity in fashionable circles, but he did not challenge the display on Laura.
Her hair had fallen loose from its prudish constraints to tempt the viewer, the silk-like morsels distracting him momentarily from the allure of her eyes. Any man experienced in the ways of women would recognise those eyes. When kindled with desire, the magnificent objects would pierce a man’s soul, her innocence an arousing additive but no barrier to his resolve. He had bedded many women like Laura and few had fought him for long. The undertaking to capture them was almost as much fun as the end reward.
As Lord Henry focused his attention on Laura, he too was the object of scrutiny. Sarah watched the developing scene from the hidden recesses. Never once did she think of going to Laura’s aid.
Laura drew breath before curtseying in a slow and polite manner, while inwardly berating herself for her careless blunder. Her resolve to remain anonymous in this house had been undone.
Lord Henry broke the uncomfortable silence. “Madam, despite your gallant attempt to incapacitate me, I can state with some degree of honesty that I am pleased to see you intact and in my home.”
The declaration, while airing as genuine, held an undertone that made Laura wary. The ability to use language temporarily passed her by.
“Come, madam. Surely it is I who shall be the loser if you were to withhold your comments. Did we not share ale and have words of friendship spoken between us?”
Lord Henry tempted Laura to debate the subject but wisdom told Laura, no.
“Miss Jennings, I can see by your reaction that I have failed to give you credit. Your past comments warned me of the dangers that familiarity can breed, and you gave strict instructions that you did not want to foster their growth. Am I correct?”
Laura quickly reassembled her wits and coated herself in their protection. “My Lord,” Laura began, her voice composed and once more in control. “I am indebted to you for the removal of my need to explain. Your sympathetic bent towards a servant and her problems earns you praise.”
Lord Henry did all that any man could, given the circumstances. He permitted Laura to finish her speech.
“You have rightly perceived the problems that I could face if I stepped outside of a servant’s boundaries. Indeed, credit must be given to you for remembering me at all. I regard myself as fortunate in my choice of employment.” The words stated, Laura bobbed a polite curtsey and then left him to his own company.
Stunned by Laura’s rapid exit, Lord Henry made no attempt to move. The scene replayed. Studying the situation in depth, he endeavoured to come to grips with how a servant could have got the better of him.
A connoisseur of the ladies, Lord Henry believed himself to be an expert in the habits of women. The majority of females who found themselves in Laura’s position would have fainted clear away at the mere prospect of a Lord of the Realm conversing with them. As to demanding their presence, heaven help him, he dared not think what aftermath that would have conjured, but Laura had dismissed him and left him in this condition.
Laughter fell from Lord Henry in a hearty burst, his hat slapped hard against his outstretched thigh in good cheer. The minx had won, but as the laughter faded he envisioned their next encounter. He would make it his business to ensure that all future engagements took place on his terms.
Sarah observed her sister’s blunder, and disgust built for the insipid woman with whom it had been her misfortune to inherit. If ever an opportunity had presented itself it had been now. Nevertheless, in compensation, one intriguing detail had stood out. Lord Henry’s countenance had testified against him. Sarah was quick to recognise lust. Laura, Sarah could tell, had no idea of the effect she had on the man, but she was not her sister. Lord Henry warranted her attention, and she would take great pleasure in making su
re that some day soon he would be hers.
In the privacy of her chamber, Sarah studied her reflection in the full-length, gilt-edged mirror. Hands wandered over the ripe young breasts that she knew men coveted before moving on to the slim waist that enticed, tracing her curves in a downward progression to the target of a man’s intent. Nature had been generous with Sarah, and she would offer no complaint. In one month and five days, she would attain eighteen years of age. She was a woman, ready to play grown-up games and perhaps entertain herself along the way. Sarah stayed in the shadows but not for long.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN - Barriers
“Mother, as always, it is a pleasure to be home,” Lord Henry stated, as he bowed to kiss Lady Catherine’s outstretched hand.
“I take it you will carry out your side of the bargain, Henry?”
“I have given my word, and a gentleman never goes back on his oath.”
“No, a “gentleman” would not,” Lady Catherine replied, knowing full well that she affronted her son.
#
The dawn of Laura’s impending doom started out bright and sunny, a false sense of calm dominating the atmosphere of the house. Formal introductions were set to take place in the morning room.
At the given hour, Laura nestled alongside Sarah. A parlour maid, whose pallor indicated her level of discomfort, was also in attendance, being the latest addition to the household.
Lord Henry appeared to be in good spirits. “Occasionally, a man is rewarded with a task that he enjoys and today is such a day.”
Apprehension rose within Laura, along with a vast amount of other unidentified worries, as the threat of exposure flourished.
“Mother...” Lord Henry applied a deliberate pause. He played with Laura’s emotions, fully aware of her distress. “I have just cause to congratulate you on your talents.” Lord Henry’s gaze settled upon Laura. He would not be denied her reaction. “I confess that I am ignorant as to the aptitude you possess in the hiring of your staff. However, your ability to select a companion that is also able to defeat a man in a game of bowls is a feat unsurpassed. Would you not agree, Miss Jennings?”
To the amusement of her Ladyship, her son went on to recount, in quite gleeful terms, how Laura had whipped his feet from beneath him while knocking the wind from his lungs.
Lord Henry’s contrivance worked. He could read the indebtedness in Laura’s eyes. The trivial act of relating a harmless tale had reaped him the dividend he coveted. Laura would be beholden to him for his chivalrous conduct. Now it was only a matter of time before Laura would be his to do with as he pleased.
Laura remained oblivious to Lord Henry's antics, and unaware that she had erected yet another barrier in her relationship with her sister.
Sarah acted elated, girlish giggles concealing her hostility. Unlike Laura, she could see through Lord Henry’s game. They were identical, she and he, and she applauded his technique.
As for her irksome sister, she earned no such admiration or praise. Laura had thrust her into the background for the last time.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN - Games
Lord Henry’s return brought about change. Normally sedate servants reacted to the man with fervour, as he breathed life into a stagnant household.
Laura tried her best to understand her master. A man awash with faults and exploits worthy of note, as indeed most under stairs attested to, he had become their main source of conversation. There were days when Laura wondered what they had ever discussed prior to his arrival. However, she had come to understand the relevance of his homecoming, the meaning deeper than that of a son merely returning home. Lord Henry and his bride-to-be heralded a new era for Marlbrook. Their wedding would ensure the continuation of a lineage and cement the positions of the staff. The ultimate result was an economic one. To a countryside bereft of work, the prospect of prolonged employment warranted celebration.
Cosseted in her drawing room, Lady Catherine grew impatient to impart her news to Laura. “My son is to be honoured with a modest dinner, and I have decided to surround myself with company that will not irritate me while I partake of food.”
“Is Lord Henry’s fiancée to join him?”
“No. However, the guest list includes Laura Jennings and her sister. You have my blessing to attend.” Had she been so inclined, Lady Catherine might have taken pleasure from her creative delivery. Such an invitation was unheard of in social circles, but then Lady Catherine did not always stay in tune with her peers. The event was dated to take place before the first wave of houseguests arrived for the summer.
Laura could count on one hand the number of social occasions that she had attended during her lifetime, and those, she reluctantly had to admit, included funerals.
“Sarah, we are surely blessed to be given this opportunity.”
“My father always included me when he entertained,” Sarah replied, thus effectively ending the conversation.
Lord Henry sat alone in his study, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He was proficient in the art of deceit. He had manipulated his mother in order to procure his own end, and Lady Catherine remained unaware of his subtle prompting. At the conclusion of the dinner party, Laura would share his bed.
Laura lingered in front of the mirror. The girl, with eyes sheltered against the world had departed, replaced by a woman eager to participate in life. Her hand reached out and touched her face as if sampling the significance. She was content and her image confirmed her satisfaction.
Laura’s dress, donated by Lady Catherine, moved in unison with her, the fabric owning a colour that walked hand in hand with her eyes. Her hair shimmered, having undergone a lengthy brushing. No adornments embellished Laura, the night lights would undertake that task.
Sarah had spent her days in preparation and her nights crippled by rage, when her endeavours had not gone as she desired. Her room verified her efforts. Clothes decorated the bed and floor. Hairpins and face powder adorned the dresser. Pretty baubles lifted the lid of her painted jewellery box, the trinkets joining the disarray. She too appeared before the looking glass, and knew it would take an exceptional man to refuse an offer when packaged like this. She too, smiled.
Sarah peered over her shoulder as Laura entered her chamber. Envy reared and blistered. Laura beckoned to her to hurry, but Sarah made no move. Sarah was appalled by the sight of her sister standing in the doorway. Somewhere along the way, her older rival had acquired beauty and Sarah had not realised it until now.
Laura and Sarah were not the first to enter the dining room. Two gentlemen, one of stout proportions and the other tall and thin, were positioned near Lord Henry, the three engrossed in deep conversation. The unidentified men were the only other additional dinner guests on the invitation.
The chamber mesmerised the new entrants. Row upon row of candles brightened the night, bestowing a dreamlike glow on everything they touched. However, spellbound or not, Laura silently scolded herself for their late arrival. All eyes were focused upon them, as they completed their walk to the far wall.
Sarah maintained a polite distance from her sister, allowing Laura to precede first. No one would ever denounce her for a lack of decorum. Hostility absented itself. Tonight, Sarah bathed in the compliments she read in the faces around her; in particular, Lord Henry’s that she examined with care.
Lady Catherine sat upon her chair as though it were her throne, her black cane complementing the colour of her gown. She condoned her son completing the introductions alone. “Laura!” The thunderous proclamation silenced the occupants of the room. “I must insist upon your company. Come, girl, and sit by me.”
Despite the unnecessary attention her summons had commanded, Laura was grateful to her ally.
Lady Catherine took Laura under her wing. “Do you not think that our distinguished, but somewhat crumpled, guest, Mr D’eath, is in need of a manservant?”
Laura chuckled. Lady Catherine misbehaved, and under her influence Laura would soon regain her composure.
Lord Henry M
arlbrook, as decreed by the majority, had matured into a princely man, one used to getting his own way. His mastery was obvious to those he indulged in conversation.
The two male additions to the household were of an older age group, distinguished but somewhat rumpled in appearance, looking oddly as though they had trekked a great distance to be here. An equal number dined.
Her Ladyship enjoyed playing the role of antagonist. “My son tells me that you have travelled to distant shores and looked upon sights that we mere mortals cannot invoke due to our uninformed intelligence. This is an extraordinary claim Mr D’eath?”
In all, Mr D’eath appeared to be a grubby little man with an egg-shaped belly protruding from his centre. He took great pleasure in his superior intellect and opposed his hostess without qualm.
“I concede to your scorn, Lady Catherine; however, there are wonders in this world that are beyond the bland and predictable. For those who have never witnessed the miracles, it may be too difficult for them to raise in imagination.
And so it began. Tales of strange and enigmatic lands fuelled thought and resulted in the manufacture of aspirations. Laura hung on Mr Death’s every word, suspended by the descriptive narrative from which her journal would later profit.
Mr D’eath, a Doctor of Anthropology, as well as his understudy Mr Cartwright, belonged to the London Society of Anthropologists. Recently returned from Egypt, it appeared that Mr Cartwright’s sole function hinged on his ability to unconditionally agree with every phrase Mr D’eath uttered. Mr D’eath, on the other hand, relished the attention and assumed the primary role of conversationalist. Moreover, aside from his unfortunate name linking him with his profession and making one have to stifle the occasional bout of mirth, he remained unchallenged.
Sarah coveted the life of the rich. Dressed to entice, she too thrived on attention, and since Lord Henry was still obviously smitten with Laura, she decided to amuse herself elsewhere. Sarah understood that the novelty of her sister’s virginal appeal had yet to wear off.
Journey's End (Marlbrook) Page 7