A Country Mouse

by Fenella Miller

  She smiled, finding that she might actually be coming to like him. 'I can manage that, Grandfather.' As matters were settled between them and they were in complete accord she felt emboldened to enquire after Lady Althea. 'Where is my mother, Grandfather? Did your reunion not go well?'

  'It went wonderfully. She forgave me and we embraced fondly.' He paused, his face concerned. 'Why she is so thin and poorly? I pray that she has not got the wasting sickness.'

  'No. It's that after Papa's death she was unable to cope with the grief and fell ill. I believe she is like you in that respect. Her appetite all but vanished and I sincerely believe that without the doses of laudanum to give her release from her pain she would not still be with us.'

  'She has grieved long enough. I know, I have wasted half my life doing the same. It is hoped the change of circumstances will start the healing process. She has retired to her rooms, the emotion of the occasion, plus the fatigue of the journey, have exhausted her.'

  'I'm sure that she will start to recover here. She has been much more like herself ever since she received your letter. It has been a difficult two years, Grandfather. I cannot tell you how glad I am to be here and to no longer have the responsibility of running Glebe House on my shoulders.'

  The Earl sat back and studied her critically. He did not like what he saw. 'Are you ailing, too, Emily? You are stick thin, almost as wasted as my poor Althea.'

  'No, Grandfather, I'm as well as I could be. I'm sure now that I am here, I shall soon recover.'

  'Are you telling me that your appearance is solely caused by lack of sustenance? That you have been unable to put enough food on the table?'

  Emily blushed; it was not something she was proud of. 'I made sure that Millie and Serena, and the staff, never went without, Grandfather.'

  'God dammit!' The Earl exploded, forgetting his manners in his anger. 'I shall never forgive myself for this, child. I promise I'll make it up to you. Never, never, will you want for anything again. My purse is deep and its contents are entirely at your disposal. Whatever you require, it is yours.'

  'Do you mean that, grandfather? Anything at all?'

  'Yes, of course. I do not make idle promises. What do you want? Name it?'

  She sighed happily. 'I wish you to wave a magic wand so that I become so beautiful my obnoxious cousin falls under my spell and then I can turn him away with a broken heart. That is what I want.' She sat back, waiting for his laughter.

  'Then that is what you shall have. With the right garments and decent food inside you we will turn you into the most beautiful girl in Surrey. And if you break that jackanapes heart, it would do no more than serve him right.'

  'Please, grandfather, I was only funning. I didn't mean it.'

  'You did, my dear girl. I saw how he insulted you; you shall have your revenge. It's high time that young man was taught a lesson. He has had things his own way ever since he was in leading strings.'

  Emily giggled, her wild idea now seemed a possibility. 'I put myself in your knowledgeable hands, Grandfather. By the by, I do not really wish to be married at the moment. It was merely a ploy to gain some money for the family.'

  'Excellent! I do not wish to lose you yet, my dear. I feel we are going to be the best of friends. We are two of a kind; you remind me of myself at your age.'

  Neither of them mentioned that Sebastian was even more like his great-grandfather but they both thought it.

  * * * *

  Emily decided to dine in her sitting-room, with the girls, that night. As she had no other dress, changing for dinner was an impossibility. Her mother was too exhausted, after all the excitement, and had retired to bed. She had no desire to eat on her own with her grandfather. Although cordial relations were now established, Emily was still finding it difficult to reconcile the two sides of the Earl of Westerham, irascible tyrant one moment and benevolent old gentleman the next. It was small wonder, she thought, Viscount Yardley had turned out so pompous.

  Millie and Serena had gone off with Mary to explore their new home. They had already investigated the school rooms upstairs and found them admirable. Emily supposed a governess would have to be employed to continue their education. She intended to be far too busy learning how to be a polished lady of the ton instead of a country mouse.

  Becoming bored with her book Emily rang for Jenny. 'I'm going out for a walk; I wish to change into my brown walking dress and pelisse.'

  'But that's so old, miss. You cannot wear such an outfit here.' Jenny was shocked to the core by such a suggestion.

  'Fustian, Jenny. I have no other suitable for a long walk in the grounds. A mantua maker has been sent for from London but, until she arrives, and starts refurbishing our wardrobes, we must wear what we have, or stay shut up in our rooms all day.'

  Stoutly shod in scuffed black half boots, an old chip straw bonnet rammed on her head, she was ready to venture out. Jenny was left behind. Emily did not consider that walking about the garden warranted a maid to accompany her.

  A series of attentive young footmen sprung to attention at her footsteps and doors were opened and closed like clock work. It was lucky that she, unlike most of her sex, had been blessed with good sense of direction and an excellent visual memory. She arrived in the Grand Hall without getting herself lost once. The frosty faced butler, Penfold, materialized beside her.

  'Is, Miss Gibson , going outside might I enquire?'

  Emily almost looked round to see if Miss Gibson was accompanying her and was forced to cover her involuntary snigger by diving into her reticule. 'I am intending to take a walk around the park before it gets too dark.' She had to bite her tongue to stop herself from asking the self-important gentleman for permission to go out.

  'Will, Miss Gibson, require an escort on her perambulations?'

  'No, she will not.' Emily hurried to the front door and two footman opened it with a flourish and bowed her through, like royalty.

  She ran down the steps and her tinkling laughter was clearly heard by Sebastian, just returning from his ride, and about to take his magnificent chestnut stallion, Sultan, back to the stable yard. Instead he sent the horse skittering around the corner, scattering gravel and dirt, to investigate.

  The sound of a horse approaching made Emily pause and she turned to face the noise. Judging by the stamping and the jangling, the animal approaching was large and spirited. Exactly the kind of horse she liked to ride herself.

  Sultan danced, snorting, around the corner of the building, arriving at exactly the same time as she did. The horse, startled by her sudden appearance, half reared, and Sebastian swore loudly, expecting to have a fainting female collapse under his horse's massive hooves.

  Emily laughed again, stepped sideways, and reached up to take the horse's bit. 'Steady, old fellow. Nothing to get so excited about.' She placed her free hand on the stallion's nose and brought it down to her level. 'You're a handsome boy, are you not?' She breathed, open mouthed into the horse's flaring nostrils, the odd action establishing an instant rapport with the normally savage beast.

  Up to that point she had quite forgotten that the horse had not arrived alone. She had been so occupied making friends she had not heard his rider dismount.

  'What the hell do you think you are doing? Do you want to be killed, you stupid girl?'

  Emily found herself nose to nose with a furious man with blazing blue eyes. 'How dare you speak to me like that? I am not a serving maid.' They glared at each other, her huge hazel eyes glittered with righteous indignation.

  Sultan, resenting the attention being taken from himself, lowered his head and nudged Emily firmly on the back. The unexpected push sent her flying into a solid wall of muscle. Sebastian, unprepared was unable to brace himself and he lost his balance and they tumbled backwards on to the ground.

  The language he used was quite new to Emily. Her landing had been far softer than his; she was safely cradled in Viscount Yardley's arms, he had taken the full brunt of the hard ground. The situation was ridiculous
and Emily laughed.

  'I think, sir, that you should moderate your language; my ears are burning.'

  Sebastian's swearing ceased instantly. He grinned, quite unrepentant, and suddenly looked much younger and less intimidating. 'And I think you, Miss Gibson, should consider your position; it is quite unseemly.'

  At his words Emily immediately attempted to roll away but his arms tightened, holding her still. She could feel the heat flood from top to toe and hated her second cousin for causing her so much embarrassment.

  'Please, release me, immediately. I wish to stand up.' Her voice was little more than a whisper and Sebastian realized, too late, that he had gone too far. This was no fast London debutante but a shy country girl.

  With one lithe move he sat up, placing Emily on the ground beside him as he did so. Before she could attempt to stand he was up and taking her hands pulled her easily to her feet. He stepped back, his expression serious.

  'I apologize, Miss Gibson; that was out of order. I treated you with disrespect and you do not deserve that.'

  Emily glanced nervously upwards. What she saw reassured her. 'I accept your apology, sir. It appears that we are destined to fall out every time we meet'

  He smiled, his eyes warm with amusement. 'Fall over, on this occasion, I think, Cousin Emily.'

  Emily felt herself blush again, but this time it was for quite a different reason. To cover her disquiet she busied herself with the shaking out of her dress, glad she was not wearing either of her new gowns. When she had recovered her composure she answered, the tone as light as his.

  'Let us hope our meetings in future are less hazardous, Cousin Sebastian.' For some reason she felt that her words might come to back to haunt her.

  Chapter Five

  Lady Althea opened her eyes and for a moment was not sure where she was. She gazed round the delightful chamber, decorated in the Oriental style. On the bed hangings, and the curtains, dark red poppies and lush green leaves rioted, the colours nearly as fresh as the day they were hung almost thirty years ago.

  With a sigh of pleasure she sank back into the pillows, she was home, sleeping in the rooms she had occupied until she had defied her parents and married Peter Gibson. She could remember clearly the day she and her mother had selected the exotic materials still hanging here.

  For the first time in two long years she felt contented with her lot. She believed she was finally turning the corner and could start to live her life without the support of her beloved husband. Still smiling, she leant over and gently tugged the bell rope. She would rise and take a bath. Using the bathing room again after so long would be a novelty.

  Edwards appeared beside her. 'Yes madam? Are you ready to rise?'

  'I am, Edwards. But first I would like a bath. I do not intend to go down this evening so lay out an old gown, any will do.'

  Her dresser beamed. 'The water is on its way. I heard you sit up and sent word down. There is a note come up for you, my lady, will you read it now?'

  Lady Althea held out an elegant hand, the veins showing blue through her pale skin. She unfolded the paper and seeing the contents laughed out loud. A sound Edwards had not heard for far too long.

  'Excellent! The Earl has arranged for Madame Ducray to come down from town bringing a selection of materials and ready sewed gowns, for us to choose from. She will be staying at Westerham until all four of us have completely renewed our wardrobes. Is that not splendid news?'

  Edwards nodded. 'Yes, madam. It's high time you all had new gowns.'

  The sound of clattering buckets was clearly heard from the adjoining bathing room and Lady Althea got out of bed with enthusiasm.

  'I think I shall have my hair washed as well, Edwards. Perhaps you should cut it for me; it has become far too long and straggly, has it not?'

  Two hours later Lady Althea was resting comfortably in her sitting-room, her hair freshly styled and her navy blue eyes alert. She was awaiting a visit from her younger daughters. What had become of Emily, she had no idea. Edwards had sent a message with one of the chambermaids to her room but had found it unoccupied.

  Serena and Millie were outside in the passageway and she smiled to think that now her precious girls would be able to grow up in the same luxurious surroundings as she had. If she had had any inkling of exactly what her normally sensible and sedate eldest daughter was doing, at that very moment, she would have been horrified.

  * * * *

  Sultan stamped his huge hooves impatiently, he was eager to return to his cosy stable. Being ignored again, he snatched his bridle from his master's hand stretching his nose high into the air. It had the desired effect.

  'Stand, sir. Enough of that nonsense.' Sebastian said, laughing at his mount's antics.

  'I believe he's trying to tell you that he wishes to be in his stable, not standing about here.'

  Emily reached up and stroked the velvety nose. She was already in love with this horse. She would dearly love to ride him but knew her cousin would never agree to such a thing. But something prompted her to ask.

  'Would you permit me to ride Sultan? He's similar to the stallion I was forced to sell after my father died.'

  Sebastian's eyebrows shot up under his hair. 'Good God! Are you saying you have ridden such an animal yourself?'

  Emily laughed, delighted she had surprised her cousin. 'Indeed I have; and I'm not ashamed to say that I always rode astride. I have a habit specially made for that purpose.'

  'I do not believe it. No girl alive could ride a horse like Sultan safely.' She bristled and her smile vanished. How dare he call her a liar! Emily threw back her head and challenged him.

  'Give me a leg up and you will see just how wrong you are.'

  For a moment Sebastian hesitated; it was an outrageous suggestion. Then he saw the fury in her remarkable eyes and decided it would not hurt her to learn a sharp lesson. He would call her bluff.

  'Very well; we will take him somewhere safer. The back paddock will do.' He viewed her dusty old-fashioned dress as they walked towards the field. 'Do you to need to change into your habit?'

  She shook her head. 'No, this skirt is full enough; I shall manage.'

  Sultan, on discovering he was not to be put into his box, began to show his displeasure by sidling and throwing his head about. Emily was beginning to regret her rash decision but she would not back down; she wished her cousin to discover that, unlike the usual debutantes, there was more to her than feminine fripperies and inane chatter.

  It quite escaped her attention that so far, in their brief acquaintance, she had not shown the slightest sign of being either feminine or a chatterbox.

  'Are you certain you wish to go through with this, cousin? I will quite understand if you feel you are not up to riding Sultan when he is in this mood.' If he had not accompanied the suggestion with a superior smile Emily might have agreed. In spite of her prowess as a horse woman, she was starting to think that she would not be unable to a control the overexcited animal.

  'No, definitely not. I have said I shall ride him and ride him I shall.' They had reached the three acre meadow in which the house cows and miscellaneous poultry lived. The gate latch was stiff and Sultan refused to stand still and allow Sebastian to open it. Without a second thought Emily stepped up and removed the bridle from her cousin's hand.

  'Stop that, silly boy;' she murmured as she walked him in a small, tight circle. The horse was so surprised to be led by such a small human that he lowered his huge head and nuzzled her back. 'That's better; I don't understand what all the fuss is about.'

  'The gate is open. Bring him in,' Sebastian snapped, annoyed that his horse was behaving like a donkey with his smug cousin.

  Emily led Sultan into the field and heard the gate clang with an unnecessarily loud bang behind her, making Sultan shy violently, lifting her off her feet for a second.

  'It's all right, boy, it's only a silly gate. Slammed by a silly person. Calm down now.'

  Sebastian almost snatched the reins back. 'You
had better adjust the leathers to suit you. I shall hold him for you.'

  She held the stirrup under her arm, the quickest way to judge the length she needed, and moved the buckle up five holes. She went round to alter the other and was then ready to mount. She knew Sebastian was expecting her to back down; she would not give him the satisfaction. She gathered up the reins. She could barely reach the horses withers; she bent back her leg and felt

  Sebastian take it and then she was in the saddle and Sultan was her responsibility.

  She settled herself more securely and slackened the reins, allowing Sultan to flex his neck, or had he so desired, to take hold of the bit and bolt off with her. She heard a sharp intake of breath beside her and knew her cousin was regretting his rash move and was about to step back and grab the bridle.

  She clicked her tongue and squeezed her legs firmly and the horse moved away smoothly into a perfect, balanced trot. Emily relaxed; the handsome chestnut was a joy to ride, the most responsive mount she had ever had

  She pushed him into a canter and took him in a figure of eight around the paddock. On the second circuit she asked him for a flying change and he obliged. She forgot everything in the exhilaration of the experience. She was unaware that she was showing an indecent amount of leg or that she had attracted a large audience of grooms and stable hands as word of her exploits had spread round the yard.

  She rode Sultan for twenty minutes before deciding it was time to allow him to return to his box. After all, he had already been ridden hard by his owner all afternoon. She reined in smoothly at the gate, her face flushed and her eyes sparkling. It was only then she noticed the row of grinning faces lined up against the fence.

  Good heavens, had the entire staff of Westerham come out to see her? She also became aware that her cousin was not sharing her pleasure. Sebastian was standing, arms folded, his full lips curled in supercilious disdain.

  Her heart plummeted. Why had she allowed pride to push her into such a situation? She could feel the warm afternoon breeze cooling her bare calves and knew she had made a dreadful error of judgement. In the space of twenty short minutes she had destroyed her precious reputation. She had also brought disgrace to her mother and her grandfather.