"She was happy enough," replied Lucy. "She appreciated everything Lord Summerville did for her."
She glanced surreptitiously at Bethany, but that lady only smiled.
"She saved me as well," Bethany murmured thoughtfully, "although not in the same way. I think Louisa knows all about it."
More secrets? She was holding a rolled up parchment in her hand and she looked across at her daughter.
"Estelle," she said. "Are you all right? It was a terrible shock for you."
"I will recover. I have no idea what happened. I was telling her something and she suddenly looked, well scared. Then she tried to stand and she just collapsed into my arms."
"Her heart had almost given out," Louisa assured her. "It was nothing you did."
"When she first came here and you told me she was dying, you almost told me what was wrong."
Louisa greeted her question with a worried frown, as though not sure how to reply.
"I have kept her secrets for most of my life, My Lady," she said at last. "I am not sure I can get the words out now. You had best wait for His Lordship; he will tell you."
Estelle wanted to press her, but she knew it would be unfair and her father would not approve. You never take advantage of a servant, he had told them all time and time again. They may do things against their will, simply because of who you are, and that is very unfair.
At last Lord Summerville returned, followed by his sons, and sat down beside their mother who handed him the parchment.
There were traces of tears in his eyes; it seemed to his children that he had really loved her, but was that possible when he so obviously loved his wife?
"This is Rachel's Will," he said, unrolling the parchment. "She has left large sums of money to both Lucy and Louisa, most of her wealth in fact."
The two women were looking at each other in astonishment.
"Why, My Lord?" Lucy demanded. "I expected she would leave us something, but not that much."
"You were her friends," he answered simply. "She will not have forgotten what you have both done for her over the years and your loyalty. The house in Finsbury is to be sold and the proceeds will go to supporting the orphanage. She wanted the two of you to choose some pieces of her jewellery; divide it up between you. The box is in her apartment." He studied them both carefully for a few moments. "You had best go now, get it over with as I know it will distress you. Louisa, you can remain in Rachel's apartment as long as you wish."
They had both got to their feet and Louisa turned and curtsied to him, then she suddenly walked quickly to him and put her arms around his neck to kiss his cheek.
"Thank you, My Lord," she said, tears brimming in her eyes.
When they had gone, he turned to his family and began to tell them all about the other woman in his life, the other woman he had loved. By the time he had finished, both Estelle and Susannah had tears streaming down their faces.
"One more thing," he said. "She has left a large sum for Charlotte's dowry."
Alex turned to him in amazement.
"Why? Charlotte has no need of a dowry."
"I asked her to," he said surprisingly. "I spoke to Caroline about the two of you a week or so ago and she was not comfortable with her daughter marrying into our family without a dowry. I happened to mention it to Rachel."
"God bless her," Alex said. "I do not care what anyone says about her. She was a real lady, and no mistake."
All this time Bethany remained silent, listening to a tale she had heard before, and watching her husband as he spoke falteringly of the woman he had protected for many years, even unto her death. His distress was obvious and she got up and went to sit on his lap like a little girl, put her arms around his neck, and pulled his head forward to rest on her breast.
It occurred to Estelle that she may never know how Lady Rachel Stewart had saved her mother's life, but she knew she was well loved by at least one man.
She watched her mother wiping the tears from her father's face with her fingers and wondered, not for the first time, if she could ever love a man that much. They had parted once, her mother had said so, had even thought they hated each other, yet here he was weeping on his wife's breast for another woman, and she seemed to understand completely.
At last he got to his feet and left the room. Estelle followed, not intending to know where he was going, but she wanted to see the portrait again. He went into Rachel's apartments and she could see him talking to Lucy.
"I would be really grateful for a favour," he said. "You know Charlotte probably better than anyone and I would really like to know her true feelings for my son. You know how things are, how sometimes people do not want to speak out for fear of causing offence. I do not want to learn when it is too late that she was too intimidated by Alex's position to refuse him. That will not make for a happy marriage and she will tell you."
"Yes, My Lord," she answered quickly. "I will talk to her, but I feel sure she really loves Mr Alex."
"Also, could you explain about Rachel to Caroline? I am very much afraid she may refuse to accept a dowry from her and she has already refused my help, even though Charlotte is entitled."
"Yes, My Lord," said Lucy. "I will make her understand, fear not. I have been longing to clear Lady Rachel’s name for years, but she would never allow it before."
He took her hand and kissed her fingers, giving her one of his beautiful smiles.
"Thank you," he murmured then turned to leave the room, walking towards his daughter.
She moved swiftly and escaped into the spare room to look once more upon the portrait, wondering why he had said Charlotte was entitled. This time her brother joined her.
"She certainly was the most beautiful woman I have ever seen," Joshua said quietly.
"You see that necklace, Joshua," Estelle remarked. "When I asked her about that necklace she had tears in her eyes. If what Father says is true, he had it made for her to enforce the story they wanted to foster. I wonder which one of her friends will have it."
"Neither," Joshua replied. "She was buried in that one."
"Whose idea was that?"
He shrugged, as though it was of no real importance; she did not agree.
"Father said it was what she wanted, what she asked him to do."
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Rachel's sudden death chased out of their minds the suggestion of Simon's visit to Summerville Hall. It had been a few days since Estelle had been able to get to Winterton House but the morning after the funeral she saddled her own horse and made her way there.
He was doing something with a chair in front of the house as she drew rein and the sun gleaming down on his blonde hair made her catch her breath. He had taken off his shirt as he worked and his muscles rippled when he moved; she longed to run her fingers over that chest, longed to put her arms around him.
He straightened up and turned to look at her.
"My Lady," he said with a puzzled frown. "When you did not return I assumed I was right and your father had forbidden you to see me."
She dismounted and led her horse behind her as she approached him.
"Not at all, Sir," she assured him. "A dear friend of my parents, a lady who had been staying with us, died suddenly. In fact, she collapsed and died in my arms, so it was very disquieting. The funeral was yesterday."
"Forgive me," he said hurriedly. "Were you very sad?"
"I was actually. I stayed with her near London last year and I became quite fond of her. We all knew she was dying, but it was still a shock."
They were silent for a little while as she looked at what he had been doing with the chair. It was missing a leg and he was trying to reattach it. Again she felt guilty that her father would have sent it away to be repaired without a moment's thought for the cost.
"I am glad you have come," he said. "I have finally persuaded my father to visit. He will be here soon and I would so like him to meet you."
Her heart leapt. He wanted her to meet his father? She sm
iled.
"I would be honoured," she said. "Will he bring his wife?"
Simon shrugged.
“I have no idea. It is likely she will want to inspect my inheritance. She might well be able to help with the upholstery; she is rather clever at that sort of thing.”
“Really?”
“Yes. When she lived in America with her first husband, she said if they did not make what they wanted, they went without. She is a lovely woman; you will like her.”
"I am sure I will, Sir."
"Would you do something for me, My Lady?"
"Of course."
"Will you call me Simon?"
"Only if you call me Estelle."
Their eyes met then and they stood for a few minutes, just looking at each other while she gradually felt more drawn toward him. That bare chest was so close and when he leaned forward and their lips met, she had to stop herself from holding that chest closer to her own.
He kissed her, a long deep kiss which made her heart flutter, then he quickly stepped away and dropped his head.
"Forgive me," he said at once. "That was altogether far too familiar, far too forward."
"Did I give you the impression I objected?" She answered playfully.
His eyes met hers then he stepped forward and kissed her again, but this time he put his strong arms around her and drew her close to him. She could hear his heart beating rapidly, his body stirring against her, that bare flesh touching her. This was not a feeling she had ever had before but she was anxious for it to go on as long as possible.
Just then the sound of hooves made them part and look up to see a man of middle age, with reddish hair and beard, streaked with grey, riding a big, grey stallion. Beside him on a smaller horse road a woman with a pretty, childlike face and wearing a red cloak about her shoulders. Blonde tendrils peeped out from beneath her red hood and she wore a teasing smile.
Simon moved away from Estelle.
"Father!" He cried out, striding toward the newcomers with a huge smile on his handsome face. “Frances!”
The man on horseback frowned at them both, then dismounted and clasped his son in his arms. Once more he frowned at Estelle, although a little smile was trying to escape from the corners of his mouth.
Charles Carlisle turned to help his wife down from her mount and Simon stepped forward to give her a swift kiss. He was obviously very fond of this woman, which was a wonderful sight.
"Father," said Simon, his hand on the older man's shoulder as he guided him toward Estelle. She curtsied. "May I present Lady Estelle Summerville. She is my closest neighbour, and my friend."
The pure shock on his father’s face was almost palpable; he seemed on the point of collapse and Frances gripped his arm tightly, looped her own arm through his in an attempt to steady him. It was that same terrified look Estelle had seen in Rachel just before she collapsed and died in her arms.
He saw us kissing and now he is concerned because he is a farmer and I have a title. That was her immediate thought, but she did not for one moment believe it.
Mr Carlisle bowed, but the fear remained in his eyes.
"My Lady," he muttered. "I am honoured to meet you."
Simon looked puzzled.
"Let us go inside, Father," he said quickly. "I will get you some refreshments. Guess what I found? A portrait of my mother. You told me she was beautiful but I never imagined she was that beautiful."
“I would like to see that,” Frances assured him as she moved to take her husband’s arm once more. “She must have been lovely to give birth to such a handsome boy.”
"Estelle?” Simon said, turning to look back at her. “Would you like something to eat?"
She could sense that Mr Carlisle did not want her there. He had something to say to his son, something she should not be a party to. Her father's rules about respecting the privacy of others came pounding at her brain to quash her curiosity.
"I had best return home, actually Simon," she said quickly. "I will see you tomorrow, perhaps." She curtsied to his father and stepmother. "Mr Carlisle."
He gave a sharp nod of his head and turned to watch her mount her horse. She could feel his eyes following her as she rode away, as though to be sure she was really going.
***
The following morning Estelle wondered if Simon's father would still be there and whether she should perhaps stay home. He had something against her, that was clear, and she could only hope it was just the class difference that was bothering him. Did farmers arrange marriages for their children as well? Had he perhaps already promised Simon to another girl, a girl of his own community?
Whatever it was, she could only hope they would be able to change his mind. She had been drawn to Simon since she first laid eyes on him, but that wonderful kiss had convinced her he was the only man for her. For the first time in her life she was getting a glimpse, just a little window into the world her parents inhabited and she could somehow understand the things her mother had told her. Did that mean she was in love with him? She had no idea, but she could not let his father come between them.
When she arrived, Simon was sitting outside the house in the sunshine, drinking from a tankard. She dismounted quietly and stood watching him, looking for any sign that his father might still be about. At last he looked up and saw her and that delighted smile lit up his face.
"Estelle," he said gently as he got to his feet and held out his hand. "How lovely to see you."
He did not look his normal cheerful self though.
"What is wrong?" She asked. "Has something happened?"
"I made a mistake yesterday," he replied. "I should never have allowed my father to see us kissing. It was a shock to him I think, to find out like that, when he had only just got here."
"Is there something to find out?" She asked.
"Well, perhaps you are in the habit of sharing such a passionate kiss for no good reason, but it is a new experience for me."
He was trying to suppress a smile as he spoke and she laughed.
"Your father does not approve of me," she asked.
"More than that. He has told me not to see you again. He wants me to put this house up for sale and move back with him."
"Did he give a reason?" She asked. "Has he arranged a marriage for you already, is that it?"
Simon looked a little puzzled, then he smiled and shook his head.
"No," he said. "We do not really do things that way. I am surprised though, now you mention it, that your father has not arranged such a marriage for you."
"We do not really do things that way, either. Is it to do with status, with class? Is it my title he objects to?"
"I think not. He was quite distressed and he knows I will not simply do as he says. I am a grown man for heaven’s sake. I am a lot older than you. Perhaps that is his reason."
"My father was twice my mother's age when they married," she said, "and they are very much in love, always have been."
"He will be back soon. He has gone for a ride; he gets so little free time to simply enjoy riding at home, but he will need to get back later. The farm does not run itself and he worries about leaving the young boys to care for the animals. Frances has gone with him.”
***
The Carlisles drew rein some miles away from Winterton House. They found a stream among the trees where their horses could drink and they could sit and decide the best way to handle the situation.
“You will have to tell him, Charles,” Frances said.
She sat beside him on the grass and took his hand. She could see how troubled he was and it distressed her to see it. They had built a happy family since their marriage, she with her two children and he with Simon, and now it seemed it would be destroyed by a meeting which should never have taken place.
Charles told her shortly after their marriage about Simon, but he never wanted him to know that he was not the boy’s natural father. Now it seemed he would have to tell him, or disaster would ensue.
“How?” H
e answered her. “How am I going to explain to him that he has been lied to all these years? He is all I have of his mother; if he turns against me I will never recover.”
“Charles, do you really think it likely? He loves you; he loves his family. He has grown into a fine young man, because of you and he is a reasonable man. I see no other way.”
“Perhaps Summerville will forbid the match,” Charles said. “He would not really want his daughter to marry a farmer’s son.”
She sighed.
“From what Adrian told me about him, I do not think he would care very much as long as they love each other. It is not a risk we can afford to take.”
“He was responsible for Julia’s death. Perhaps that will be enough to deter Simon, and he will never have to know.”
“You can try that, Charles,” she said as she kissed his cheek. “But do not be surprised if it is not enough. From what I saw yesterday, that kiss, it is too late for past grievances to come between them.”
***
Simon sat down on the stone bench beside the door and took Estelle’s hand. They were silent for a little while, many images whirled around her mind, images of his poor mother, burned alive for heresy, of his father, working like a plough horse on the farm just to send their son to good schools. Most men in Mr Carlisle's position would be thrilled to have a son married into a noble family, but perhaps he had too much pride, like Caroline when it came to taking a dowry from Lord Summerville. Pride had a lot to answer for.
"Estelle," he said at last, "I was going to tell you yesterday that I believe I have fallen in love with you. Now I do not think I should. It is not just my father's objection, although he seems convinced that Lord Summerville would never allow such a marriage. He was so adamant about it, so determined, it rather frightened me."
He turned his head to listen to the sound of an approaching horse. She got to her feet and turned to kiss him goodbye.
"He needs to give a reason," she replied stubbornly. "I know my father would not object and just to prove it, I am going home now to ask him."
"And if he agrees, will you marry me?"
She felt a little smile forming on her mouth and she leaned toward him and put her arms around his neck. Their lips came together and once more she felt that passionate kiss, once more she knew what her mother had been talking about.
HOLY POISON: Boxed Set: The Complete Series 1-6 Page 96