Country Cousin

by Jacqueline Gilbert

  Hugh smiled ruefully: ‘To tell you the truth, there was little doubt.’

  ‘What else do you like doing, besides collecting snuffboxes, I mean?’ she asked, as he opened the door and ushered her through.

  ‘Nothing very energetic—walking is my main form of exercise.’ He pursed his lips thoughtfully. ‘I go to concerts and the theatre, read, enjoy a good meal with people I like follow the Test Match and...’

  ‘Buy snuffboxes,’ finished Eleanor. ‘Oh, yes,’ she breathed, ‘it is lovely, isn’t it?’ and she knelt down by the small Louis XV table on which was displayed a charming box, smaller than Eleanor had anticipated, inset with intricately painted pictures of plump ladies reclining on frothy clouds. ‘Quite lovely,’ she repeated, and they smiled at each other, and into this companionable scene strolled Edward.

  ‘So there you both are. Good morning, Eleanor, sleep well?’

  Eleanor rose to her feet murmuring an appropriate answer and Edward turned to Hugh.

  ‘I have to go to Wells today to look over a horse. I’ve suggested to Van that we all go and make a day of it.’

  ‘Good idea,’ agreed Hugh. ‘You and Van can discuss the horse ... I’m sure that Eleanor and I can find something to do.’

  ‘I’m sure you can,’ said Edward. ‘Come and breakfast, and we’ll make a start.’

  The next few days passed quickly, the four of them spending most of the time together. By Wednesday Eleanor had grown used to being included in the general plans and was surprised at how disappointed she was to find that the day was to be her own. Edward stated that he had business to attend to, and later, she heard Vanessa discussing with Hugh the prospect of visiting friends in Esher. As the only vehicle left was her Spitfire, which could accommodate two, Eleanor took the hint.

  The weather looked promising, a thin gleam of sunshine was struggling through the cloud, and if she could find a sheltered spot, then she would do some work. Transport was the main difficulty, but she had spied a bicycle in the depths of one of the outbuildings and went in search of Sam. After listening to her, Sam was not enthusiastic.

  ‘You won’t want to ride this old thing, Miss Eleanor,’ he protested, struggling to free the machine. ‘It’s hardly safe.’

  ‘I think it is,’ persisted Eleanor, giving it a closer inspection as he propped it against the wall. ‘It looks worse because of all the cobwebs.’

  ‘Used to be Miss Van’s, but she’s not used it for many a year. Let me test those brakes before you ride it. I don’t think Mr. Edward will like the idea,’ he muttered under his breath.

  ‘Mr. Edward needn’t know,’ she replied firmly, rubbing the dirt off with a finger.

  Sam produced a rag from out of nowhere and gave it to her. He shook his head, still not completely easy. ‘The brakes seem good enough ... I’ll have to lift the saddle, though, you’ve a fair stretch of leg.’ He looked up at her. ‘Why don’t you give the horses their apple while I’m doing it? Else they might think you’ve forgotten them this morning,’ he added slyly.

  Eleanor took the two halves of apple from her pocket and grinned.

  ‘There’s not much misses you, Sam, is there?’ and she walked over to the paddock fence and sat on the top bar. They came towards her expectantly and she held out her hand to each in turn. They blew gently and nuzzled, and she laughed and stroked each soft velvet nose. ‘Don’t be greedy,’ she admonished fondly, and giving them a last pat, returned to Sam who was now filling his pipe, watching her.

  ‘You’re used to horses?’ he asked, puffing briskly, shielding the flame of the match from the breeze.

  ‘Not really. A farmer friend has let me ride occasionally, but not on anything compared to them. They’re beauties, aren’t they? I’ve watched Edward exercise them first thing in the mornings from my bedroom window. Now he’s what I would call used to horses!’ She nodded at the cycle. ‘Is it okay?’

  ‘Wouldn’t say that,’ returned Sam laconically, wheeling it over to her. ‘This is as ready as I can make it at such short notice. I’ve given her a drop of oil and a bit of air, but there’s no bell.’

  ‘Not to worry, I’ll just yell if anything gets in my way!’ She slipped the straps of her art folio over her arms and wriggled it comfortably on to her back.

  Sam thumbed the tyres doubtfully. ‘Better not go too far, Miss Eleanor.’

  ‘I won’t,’ she promised, balancing on one toe as she sat astride the saddle. ‘I say, Sam, I wish you’d stop this Miss prefix, it’s not my style at all.’ Giving him a grin, she pushed off. ‘There’s no need to worry about me ... I’ve been brought up on a bike,’ and wobbling as she negotiated the curve, she pedalled down the drive and out on to the road.

  The day was a grand one for cycling, the breeze gentle enough to be cooling but not enough to have to battle against. Eleanor, lulled into an optimism that was misguided, forgot her promise and went further than she intended. Eventually she found a sheltered spinney and settled to work. A packed lunch, provided By Duffy, satisfied hunger pains at midday, and if she hadn’t found a wild honeysuckle growing in a hawthorn hedge, which she couldn’t resist, she would have started back much earlier. As it was, by the time she had packed up all her gear and dragged the bicycle through the undergrowth to the road, the sun had disappeared and clouds had begun to build up.

  Eleanor zipped up her anorak and started for home. She would, she thought, be warm after a few minutes’ hard work on the pedals. Not a quarter of an hour passed, however, before there was an ominous bump-bump from the back wheel and examination showed a two-inch split in the tyre.

  ‘Drat the thing!’ exclaimed Eleanor, frowning down at the wheel. ‘Oh, well, heaven knows how far from Priory Lodge I am, but there’s nothing else to do but push!’ and this she proceeded to do. After a while the heel of her right foot began to shout for attention and realising that her minor road joined the main one a few yards ahead she made that her goal, and on reaching the junction propped the cycle against the road sign and sat on the grass verge, gingerly removing sock and shoe.

  This revealed a king-sized blister, and winding a clean handkerchief round as best she could, Eleanor eased her sock and shoe back on. Intent on the job, she was unaware of passing traffic, and of one particular car which suddenly pulled up and then backed to where she was sitting. Then she did look up, surprise changing to wariness when she saw Edward alight, slam his door and walk over to her.

  ‘What the devil are you doing here, Eleanor? I thought you were with Van and Hugh?’

  ‘Oh, did you?’ she said guardedly. ‘No, I’m not.’

  ‘I can see you’re not,’ he exclaimed impatiently. ‘Surely Van told you the arrangements for today?’

  ‘Er—something was said, but I fancied a jaunt more leisurely for a change.’

  ‘You’re extremely leisurely at the moment, it seems,’ he said dryly, glancing down to her foot, taking in the tyre, flushed face and tousled hair. ‘Where did that contraption come from?’ and he nodded at the cycle.

  ‘I found it in the shed and Sam helped me to...’

  ‘Sam had no business to allow you out on...’

  ‘It had nothing to do with him,’ exclaimed Eleanor indignantly. ‘Don’t you dare go on at Sam, because it wasn’t his fault. He wanted to tell you, but I wouldn’t let him. He said not to go far because of the tyres, but...’

  ‘You thought best. Don’t get excited. Far from blaming Sam, I sympathise with the poor fellow. That dewy-eyed look of yours is all humbug!’ He looked at his watch. ‘I haven’t time to take you back, you’ll have to come with me.’

  ‘You don’t have to concern yourself with me, Edward. If you’d come two minutes earlier you would have missed me altogether. I can quite easily...’

  ‘But I didn’t miss you.’ He picked up the cycle and heaved it over the hedge into the adjacent field, where it vanished into the undergrowth with hardly a sound.

  ‘What are you doing?’ protested Eleanor. “That’s a perfectly good bike,
you know, and I’ve grown very fond of it...’ Edward pulled her to her feet and steered her firmly to the Jensen. ‘Suppose someone steals it?’ she added worriedly.

  ‘My dear girl, no one in their right mind would steal that thing, but if you insist, I’ll arrange for its collection.’ He opened the door. ‘In you get.’

  She did so, struggling with her folio which Edward took from her without a word and placed on the back seat. Soon the Jensen was bowling along the road, very fast.

  ‘I’m sorry to be such a nuisance,’ Eleanor said at last, seeing him glance briefly at his watch for a second time. ‘I was going to wait for a lorry to come by and hitch a lift.’

  ‘I see. Why didn’t you dump the cycle, somewhere safe, of course,’ he added caustically, ‘and get on a bus?’

  ‘Because I hadn’t any...’ Eleanor checked the words abruptly.

  ‘Money,’ finished Edward. ‘You ridiculous girl!’

  ‘I never bother at home, there’s always someone who knows me to help out.’

  ‘You’re not home now.’

  ‘Oh, well, you came along,’ she observed airily.

  He shot her a side glance. ‘So Van didn’t ask you to go with them?’

  His face told her nothing. ‘Oh, it wasn’t like that, and anyway, there was a shortage of car space.’

  ‘Nonsense ... Mother’s was in the garage.’

  ‘She knew I had plans of my own today,’ Eleanor said firmly, putting an end to the interrogation. She wasn’t going to be accused of complaining and she launched into an account of her day.

  ‘You don’t bring anything back with you to draw at home?’ Edward asked.

  ‘It depends. You can’t uproot wild plants these days without permission from the landowner. Some species are now protected by law because they’re dying out completely.’

  ‘I didn’t realise things were so bad as that,’ said Edward, slowing the Jensen almost to a halt to turn right.

  ‘I suppose something will be done when it’s too late,’ replied Eleanor rather forlornly. ‘Where are we going?’ she asked, as the car passed through an open barrier. ‘It looks like a private aerodrome!’

  ‘It is,’ agreed Edward, winding down his window as a white-overalled man ran alongside, and saying briefly: ‘Sorry I’m late.’

  ‘Thought it was off, Mansel. Is this it?’ The man indicated a large packet at the back of the Jensen.

  ‘Yes. I’ll park and you can take it.’ Edward manoeuvred into a line of parked cars. He turned to Eleanor before alighting. ‘I won’t be a moment, someone’s waiting for this,’ and he heaved out the packet and strode off. He returned almost immediately and opened her door.

  ‘Aren’t we going home now?’ she asked in surprise.

  ‘I’ve arranged to meet someone here, so we might as well go into the clubhouse and make ourselves comfortable.’

  ‘I’m not dressed for socialising,’ Eleanor said doubtfully. ‘I could wait in the car.’

  He scanned her briefly. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. No one’s going to notice what we wear,’ and Eleanor allowed herself to be led meekly into the clubhouse, thinking that Edward’s grey and white dog-tooth check pants and Aran sweater would stand scrutiny better than her own patched jeans and anorak.

  ‘I suppose you fly,’ she said, looking round her curiously.

  ‘Yes.’ Edward glanced at her briefly. ‘I’ll take you up one day.’

  ‘Er—well, maybe...’

  ‘Let me tell you, Eleanor Ferrers, that I have been piloting aircraft since I was seventeen, and I can assure you that you’d be far safer in my Piper Cherokee than riding that damned cycle!’

  ‘Very well, I accept your offer. Never let it be said that parsons’ daughters are chicken-hearted,’ she replied demurely.

  ‘There are times when I suspect parsons’ daughters are not spanked enough in their early, formative years,’ he retorted jocosely.

  Edward ordered a drink and sat her at one of the small tables at the side of the room, excusing himself to speak to someone at the bar.

  I bet he’s a good pilot, too, she thought, as she sipped her drink. She loved watching him ride the horses, and speed in the Jensen had no fears for her. Altogether, Edward was a comforting person to have around in that respect. In fact, she was enjoying herself ... rather to her surprise. After a while her eye was caught by a woman who had just come in and was weaving her way between the tables. Her route may have appeared haphazard, but she knew her goal, and when Edward turned and moved towards her, Eleanor was not surprised, just stupidly disappointed. Naturally, she told herself crossly, it’s only to be expected that the most beautiful and exciting woman in the room should be claimed by Edward Mansel, but he might have warned me, and then I should definitely have waited in the car.

  To her dismay she saw that after five minutes of deep conversation he was bringing the woman over. It was no use remembering her father’s maxim that fine feathers do not necessarily make a fine bird—that philosophy is only acceptable when you feel that you have at least a few feathers existing of your own! She watched their approach with a sinking heart.

  ‘Eleanor, this is Felicity Maddox—Felicity, this is Eleanor Ferrers, who is on a visit from Yorkshire.’ He pulled out a chair and Felicity sank gracefully in to it. She was even more breathtaking close to, with ash-blonde hair, eyes a startling green and a voice attractively husky.

  ‘Yorkshire?’ she echoed, as though it were a county on Mars, and Eleanor nodded, reading the message loud and clear that emanated from the hard, green eyes.

  Her glass was refilled—Eleanor knew she ought not to have had another on such an empty stomach, but it gave her something to do, for it was soon apparent that she might not have existed so far as Miss Maddox was concerned. Her feelings were not improved when Felicity turned to her, smiling sweetly, and purred:

  ‘Do persuade Edward to stay on this evening, Miss Ferrers.’ She tilted a shapely head to Edward and added reproachfully: ‘Darling, you did promise!’

  Edward smiled slightly and shook his head; ‘I said perhaps.’

  ‘There you are!’ exclaimed Felicity, teasingly, ‘I’m sure Miss Ferrers would enjoy herself.’

  Oh, you do, do you? thought Eleanor grimly, a deep resolve forming that she would rather walk home than remain. And anyway, who did she think she was kidding? If Felicity could not induce him to stay, then an insignificant Yorkshire nonentity couldn’t!

  ‘We won’t stay,’ Edward was saying, ‘but I’ll do penance one evening next week, Felicity.’ The drawl was very pronounced.

  ‘Darling, that’s a promise?’ Felicity raised her brows provocatively. ‘And I may choose your punishment?’ she added softly, a smile gathering on her lips.

  ‘You may,’ replied Edward easily, then turning to Eleanor he said: ‘Are you ready?’

  More than ready, asserted Eleanor to herself, rising and shrugging herself into her anorak before he could help.

  ‘So you think the horse will do?’ Felicity asked.

  ‘He’ll suit you admirably.’ Edward included Eleanor into the conversation by adding: ‘That horse we vetted at Wells this week was for Felicity.’

  ‘Do you ride, Miss Ferrers?’ asked Felicity with charming interest.

  ‘Yes,’ answered Eleanor, thinking it wasn’t altogether a lie.

  Two minutes later she raised her flushed face thankfully to the cool air as Edward closed the clubhouse doors behind them. She saw him give her a keen look as he opened the car door, but there was silence between them until the Jensen was speeding along the road. As it had to be said and the longer she waited the more difficult it would become, Eleanor took a deep breath.

  ‘I’m sorry I messed up the evening for you.’ To her disgust it came out prim and proper.

  ‘You didn’t,’ replied Edward laconically.

  She flicked him a glance beneath lowered lashes to see if she could read his face. He looked composed enough, but then he rarely displayed his real feelings. Th
ose objectionable eyebrows were a thick line above eyes fixed steadily ahead.

  ‘I’d feel better if you said what a nuisance I’d been,’ she carried on irritably.

  ‘That’s a pity, as I have no intention of saying anything of the kind,’ Edward drawled. ‘What bee in your bonnet have you now, Eleanor?’

  ‘If I’d realised that you’d arranged to meet Miss Maddox then I’d never have come with you. You could easily have put me on the bus and...’

  ‘Thank you,’ he returned dryly, ‘but since I had no plans for staying this evening you need not concern yourself with outraged feelings.’

  There was a car coming up fast from behind. As it zoomed past, the headlights flicked on and off and a hand waved. Edward responded with a similar reply and when the rearlights disappeared into the distance, Eleanor said flatly:

  ‘Miss Maddox didn’t stay on herself.’

  ‘Evidently not.’

  She slipped further into her seat and stared out of the window. After a few miles of silence, Edward said:

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me you could ride a horse?’

  ‘You didn’t ask me,’ she prevaricated.

  ‘I didn’t ask if you could ride a bicycle, but that didn’t stop you from doing so,’ countered Edward uncompromisingly.

  ‘That’s quite different!’ said Eleanor, indignantly.

  ‘Why didn’t you ask?’

  ‘Because I can’t ride well... it was stupid of me to say I could ... I mean, I have, but I’m not much good and would certainly be outclassed by Miss Maddox.’

  ‘I should imagine so. Felicity is a superb horsewoman,’ Edward announced, sweeping into the driveway and pulling up in front of the garage doors.

  She would be, muttered Eleanor under her breath as she climbed out of the Jensen, adding louder, as Edward joined her: ‘I suppose she can fly a plane too.’ There were no lights on at the front of the house and he took her arm to guide her along the path.

  ‘She can indeed.’

  ‘Anything she can’t do?’ replied Eleanor tartly.