Yorkshire
Page 10
“It is when you’re here.” I was sorry for my words when I saw her stricken look. “I didn’t mean it like that, Lizzie, but no one pays any attention to me after they’ve seen you.” I smiled. “I don’t mind, really I don’t.” I was lying. My sister was a kind-hearted soul, and couldn’t help the beaux’s reactions to her stunning good looks but it did hurt when they constantly passed me by to get to her.
“Why don’t you go home and marry Tom?” asked Lizzie.
“Tom?” Tom Skerrit was the son of the neighbouring squire at home. We had played together as children. “Tom doesn’t think of me in those terms. He’s just a friend. He likes vapid, blonde girls.”
“Oh, I see.” Lizzie didn’t sound in the least convinced. “But I’ve seen him look at you sometimes, when he thinks no one is looking. I don’t think he quite believes it himself, but I’m sure he thinks of you very warmly indeed.”
I thought of Tom; tall, dark, gangling, my partner in all kinds of childhood mischief. I smiled. “It would be comfortable, a good arrangement. But I still don’t believe you.” In any case, I didn’t feel the same lurch in my stomach for Tom as I did when I looked at Richard.
Lizzie sat on a rickety chair, the only seat on this narrow landing. She’d made no attempt yet to help with the linen. I stood by the open door of a large linen cupboard, now almost empty of its contents. They lay in piles on the floor: sheets to keep, towels to keep and a rough pile of discards, to turn into rags and cloths. I took the last pile of towels from the cupboard.
I owed my sister my honesty. “I want him. If I can have him, I want him. It’s the first time I’ve ever felt like that about anyone, the first time I’ve been so sure. If I can’t have him, I’ll live with it. I’ll have to, but it won’t come again. Not for me.”
She looked at me without flinching. “I’m sorry you have chosen someone so dangerous. If you slip, if you let him seduce you, you could create a scandal that affects us all. Anything from our side would ruin any chances Ruth and I might have.”
“Oh, Lizzie, of course I won’t do anything foolish.” What could I do but promise her I’d be careful?
“And another thing. If you should succeed, if he does want to marry you, he’ll have to persuade Miss Cartwright to break the marriage contract. I’ve been watching her and I don’t think she’ll do that easily. Have you thought how much a breach of promise suit could cost? It could ruin us all.”
The practicalities and the scandal associated with such a case would wipe out our newfound prosperity and status. His, too. I’d be prepared to face poverty with him, but I couldn’t subject my family to the same fate. “I’ll be careful. He’s asked Miss Cartwright to break the contract, but she said no. I won’t do anything foolish. I may be innocent, Lizzie, but I’m not stupid.”
If he were to marry Miss Cartwright after all, I would die of anguish. I couldn’t bear to think that he might touch someone else in that way when he should be touching me, even talking to her in that intimate, caressing style. I wanted him for myself. I shut the thought off. We had a long way to go before I could let myself think about that.
Lizzie watched me, her lower lip between her teeth, a habit she had when she was thinking. “Lord Strang’s reckless behaviour has eased of late, by all accounts, ever since his brother returned from abroad. Maybe Mr. Kerre has a beneficial influence on him. But still, Rose, take care.”
“I will.”
There was no point continuing with that part of the conversation, so we went on to discuss Pritheroe’s behaviour. “What sort of minister keeps half his congregation ignorant and passive?” Lizzie asked.
In this matter at least we were wholly in accord. “She has been kept ignorant. And maybe celibate.”
“I can’t see that. A man needs his pleasures, especially in marriage. The Church says in the marriage service that it’s the duty of a married couple to procreate. Do you think they married properly?”
I looked at her curiously, a torn sheet in my hands. “I think it’s immaterial. If she proves to be in the family way, James will be off to Devonshire faster than lightning. He’d be the last one to prefer a lawsuit.”
“I suppose so,” said Lizzie, with a sigh. She looked up at me brightly. “But everyone seems to think it’s a done thing.”
I agreed, and we went on with our work.
We finished the sorting and went downstairs to help Martha until it was time to dress for dinner. I wouldn’t be able to wear colours for much longer. I did so want to show Richard I could wear clothes with style, so I fished out the best gown I had brought with me. Then I forced the maid Martha had sent up to pull my laces tight.
Unfortunately, the girl couldn’t dress hair, so Lizzie and I did each other’s. My rich brown locks had a mind of their own. They were dreadfully unruly, both a blessing and a curse. It did away with the need for curling papers, but was difficult to keep in any sort of style. Lizzie dressed it simply, and when I looked at my reflection the mirror showed gleaming red-brown highlights. I looked quite pretty, a miracle in the circumstances. Lizzie took extra time preparing for her entrance, so I decided to go down before her.
I was on my way downstairs when I saw Steven. My heart sank and I wished I’d waited for Lizzie now. He beckoned me into an empty room. With a heavy heart I followed, staying near the door. I wouldn’t allow him to close it.
“Did the funeral go well?” I asked in an attempt to find some way to avoid personal conversation.
He grimaced. “Well enough. Mr. Pritheroe only preached for an hour, when I thought it might be closer to three.” He waved the subject away carelessly. “Won’t you kiss me?” He gave me that puppy dog look which used to make him look appealing, but I ignored it. I found it pathetic now, and wondered how I ever imagined myself attracted to him in the first place.
“I hope Lady Hareton didn’t object to being the only lady there,” I said coolly.
“I don’t think so.” He didn’t seem interested. “Lord Hareton asked me if I would like to continue here as chaplain for the present, and in time I could take one of the livings within his gift. Several are vacant.”
I wondered who he meant by “Lord Hareton,” then remembered it was James.
Steven took a turn about the room. “It’s what we always dreamed of.” He threw his arms out in a dramatic gesture. “Remember those days in the orchard last year? I said I would offer for you, if only I had a decent living?” Unfortunately, I did, and could only be thankful I’d made no promises to him then.
As the younger scion of a respectable country family, he’d had to make his own way. While I sympathised with his lot in life, I couldn’t approve of his way of trying to make his fortune. Tall, dark and classically featured, he charmed every eligible female in the district before he landed on me—the most desperate, and therefore the most promising. I saw now what my needy self had failed to see at the time. I also saw how difficult it would be to get rid of him now. He might be happy with one of the livings, but he must realise my dowry would be considerably more than I previously expected. That would undoubtedly weigh heavily with him. I remembered the rumours about him and the poorer girls in the district that I had previously discounted. They might very well be true.
My heart sank. Whatever happened, I wouldn’t let Steven trap me.
He took a step toward me. “Is there anything wrong?” He held out his arms but I indicated the open door, shaking my head.
“No, nothing, but it’s not wise to meet like this.” I despised myself for lacking the courage to tell him I wanted to break with him. I couldn’t bring myself to do it and face the inevitable commotion he would be bound to make.
“Should I speak to Lord Hareton? Tell him how it is between us? We could meet more openly then, be truly a couple.” His eagerness was frightening me with its intensity.
I nearly panicked, but I forced down my fright. I could deny it, if I had to. After all, I’d done nothing to be ashamed of. I’d made no promises, hadn’t compromised
myself. A few clandestine meetings were all, to listen to him, let him kiss me. My imagination had done the rest. I couldn’t believe how stupid I’d been to let him cajole me in this way, but his looks and his address had flattered me into ignoring his more insalubrious habits.
“I don’t think that would be appropriate. James has a lot to think about at the moment. We should let him settle matters first.”
“You haven’t forgotten your promises,” he said gently.
I edged towards the door. “I made no promises. I wasn’t in a position to make any, if you remember.”
“Of course, of course,” he said soothingly, but frowning in concern.
I didn’t want him talking to anyone, so I said hurriedly, “We’ll speak again,” and left the room.
Martha had worked wonders in one afternoon. No longer were we confined to the one clean room in the house. While we had been upstairs sorting the linen, Martha had found some “perfectly serviceable” rooms in the bleak family wing and set her new army of servants to make them habitable. The upholstery had been taken outside, beaten to within an inch of its life; the wooden furniture had been cleaned and polished. Fires had been set in the grates. Martha apologised for the lack of a fire in the dining room. She explained it smoked so badly she’d had it extinguished.
We complimented her on her cleverness. She said it had only needed hard work by more people than previously allowed on the premises, but the compliments pleased her.
His valet had allowed Richard a finer coat for his dinner, but he still held his arm in a sling. I cleared my throat and asked him how he did. “Tolerably well, madam” he replied coolly, but his eyes betrayed him when I dared to look at him directly. They held a new warmth for me. “Carier says I’ll be able to discard this sling in a day or two, but he doubts I’ll be fit enough to travel before the week’s end. If that should inconvenience you, your ladyship,” he said, turning to Martha, “please don’t hesitate to mention it. I can easily find accommodation in York.”
“My lord, I wouldn’t dream of such a thing.” Martha bridled at this insult to her hospitality, as he must have known such a hospitable woman would. “You must stay until you’re perfectly well again.”
He smiled and bowed, but Miss Cartwright looked dismayed. Perhaps this place bored her. Difficult to say, since she rarely ventured an opinion about anything. She appeared to be her usual immaculate, fashionable self, completely self-contained, betraying little except ennui.
The dinner was far superior to any we had consumed here, despite its simplicity. It consisted of only two courses, but that was one more than in the previous regime, verging on the respectable. Martha would soon have this place run as well as the manor at home. I guessed if she had inherited the Abbey as a fully functional country house, it would have intimidated her, but this way she’d settle in as countess before she fully realised it.
Lady Hareton had wanted to keep to the seclusion of her room. Her father had likewise refused to join us for dinner, though Martha assured us he wouldn’t starve. He’d said he’d take dinner with his daughter in the small parlour, thus demanding her presence and snubbing us. I suspected this gave him pleasure. He seemed to enjoy upsetting people, but I can’t say I cared overmuch.
In his absence, dinner was a convivial meal. There was tension, but I acquitted myself well. I sat next to Mr. Kerre who, whatever he suspected, treated me with consideration and kindness. He never once alluded in any way to his brother’s feelings for me, and could even be said to show some interest himself. At least Lizzie seemed to think so, when the ladies withdrew for tea.
“You seem to have made a conquest there,” she said in an undertone.
The Misses Cartwright and Martha sat apart from us, so we had a semblance of privacy. Miss Cartwright regaled my sister-in-law with tales of the conditions which prevailed in the other family estates of her acquaintance, especially that of Eyton, where she would soon be welcomed as a new bride. I tried not to listen, finding her descriptions of the house and her new position a raw wound.
“I think Gervase Kerre is taken with you,” Lizzie said archly, behind her fan.
“Nonsense.” I said. “He was only being polite.”
“Do you like him as well as the other? That might be your solution, you know. Myself, I don’t know how you can discriminate between them. They seem so alike.”
“They are entirely different.”
Lizzie frowned. “You should try. If Mr. Kerre shows an interest in you, it would prove an entirely possible match. I don’t think you have any chances elsewhere. I would as leif avoid them both, but if you must have one, go for the younger.”
“It’s not like that. It’s not something I wish for at all.”
“Then you must suffer,” Lizzie said. “I know these things pass.”
I wasn’t at all sure I wanted it to pass but arguing with her was fruitless and would only upset us both. I changed the subject and reminded Lizzie about our other discovery in the stables, the severed strap. “I think I’ll go to see it for myself,” she said. “If you’re right about it, then James must be told. If you’re not, you’ll worry him for nothing.”
“That had occurred to me, too,” I said a trifle tartly. “Shall I take you in the morning?”
“Yes please.” She might have an ulterior motive. If she went with me, I couldn’t meet Richard again, if I’d planned to. I was grateful for her help, but annoyed with her for interfering. After all, she had shown no interest in the coach accident earlier in the day.
Chapter Nine
Lizzie was as good as her word. The next morning we went to the coach house together. After seeing the strap, she agreed with me the break looked too clean to be merely wear and tear. Someone had deliberately cut it.
A worried frown marred her perfect features. “We must tell James. But only when we can speak to him privately.” At last, we were in total agreement, and it put me in better temper with her.
We decided to go back in to find our brother, but as we turned to leave the doorway darkened, and Richard came in. My heart sank. Perhaps he’d hoped to find me alone. Then I saw that James was close behind him. They bowed good morning while we returned the courtesy, giving me time to order my thoughts.
Richard glanced at me in warning. “I see someone else had the same idea as we did. It may serve to confirm my suspicions. Did you notice anything amiss, ma’am?” he said to Lizzie.
Lizzie indicated the bit of leather. “My sister noticed a problem with this strap yesterday. I wanted to see it for myself, before bothering James. You have so much on your mind at present.” She smiled placatingly at James. “We didn’t want to bother you with it if we had any doubt.”
“I, on the other hand, have no doubts, about this.” Richard took the strap from Lizzie’s unresisting hands. “See for yourself, sir.” He held it out to James. “The other side only confirms it. The strap has been severed nearly through, and left to finish the job for itself. The coach is in such a state of disrepair the perpetrator relied upon no one bothering to examine it. After all, you can’t repair such a wreck, you can only have it destroyed.”
James looked cynical, but he walked forward and examined the strap.
Eventually, he put a hand up to his mouth, rubbed his chin and sighed deeply. This problem settled on his shoulders. “There’s no doubt about it. The strap has been cut. It’s certainly the direct cause of the accident. I think this family owes you an apology, Strang. Someone in this household wanted someone on that coach dead. Whoever it was, he caused your injury.”
Richard shook his head. “I need no apology, sir. After all, it was entirely my fault I was aboard the coach. My mother always said my curiosity would kill me, and this time she was very nearly right.” He gave a wry smile. “I can’t think, however, that the news would give her very much satisfaction.”
A thought occurred to me, and without thinking first, I blurted it out. “Why use such an uncertain way of doing it? The accident might have inju
red people but not killed anyone at all. There was no glass in the windows to increase the danger, and coaches overturn every day with less serious results.” Richard gazed at me steadily, an arresting expression on his face.
I looked away hastily, as he continued with my thought. “Then…. someone may have only wished to harm the occupants, or to give them a fright?”
We all paused, as we tried to work out the implications of this. “Who on earth could have wanted to do that?” James turned away from the coach, to face Lizzie and me, dropping the strap as if it burned him.
“With your permission, that’s what I would like to try to find out,” said Richard. “If you call in the authorities, the thing must reach the press, and I’m afraid the resulting publicity might do your family a great deal of harm.”
“Oh God.” Lizzie turned pale. With such a scandal, she would find things even more difficult in London. “So close. So close to everything I ever wanted. This could take it all away.” She blushed in shame when she caught Richard’s gaze. “I—I’m sorry, sir, it must seem so heartless to you. It’s just that—that I’ve dreamed of a season for years, and when I realised it might be possible it drowned out everything else.”
Richard patted her hand. “Society cannot be denied the opportunity of your company, ma’am. But if this thing should become known, I’m afraid the papers would make hay with it.” He released her hand. “You’re unknown to society, and if it becomes known that any suspicion exists about the deaths of the previous earls of Hareton, I’m afraid it will be the next cause célèbre. My reassurance that you had nothing to do with it won’t count for much, I’m afraid, unless we can find out more about it.”
“So we need to keep this to ourselves,” James said grimly. “Do you think I should destroy the coach?”
Richard held up a restraining hand. “No. It’s your only proof. If I can find who did this, and it was, as I believe, nothing to do with you or your family, it might be as well to bring the attention to the authorities to it, and have it cleared up. You’ll still carry a certain amount of notoriety, but it won’t do you any harm in the long run. Especially once people get to know you.”