by Anne Ashley
There was no hint of tenderness in the glance he directed at Robina this time. She looked as surprised as everyone else by the rider's approach, and her ladyship hurriedly stepped into the breach before her son's evident annoyance prompted him to say something which he might later come to regret.
'Why, good morning, Lord Phelps,' she greeted him, when at last he drew level with the small cavalcade. 'I sincerely trust you did not intend to pay us a morning call, for as you can see we are just about to depart for a jaunt in the country.'
'Yes, ma'am, I know. Hoped I might catch you before you left. Discovered earlier from my mother that you were organising a sketching party, and decided I'd come along. If you've no objection, that is?'
'Why, of course not,' she announced, with as much enthusiasm as she could muster, while hoping her slightly raised voice would conceal Sir Percy's string of muttered oaths. 'I'm certain Cook will have provided us with ample provisions.'
'What on earth possessed you to permit that fellow to tag along, Lavinia?' Sir Percy demanded, climbing into the coach after the ladies, and slamming the door firmly closed in case the new arrival should take it into his head to leave his mount and request a seat in the carriage. 'Damned impertinence turning up like that, and virtually inviting himself!'
'Well, that's rich coming from you!' she retorted. 'You did precisely the same thing yourself.'
'Ah, but that's different. I'm an old friend of the family. Knew you'd have no objection to me making up one of the party.'
'And what makes you suppose that I've the least objection to Lord Phelps doing precisely the same thing?'
'Should have thought that was obvious, m'dear,' he muttered, casting a meaningful glance at the sole occupant of the seat opposite, who had remained interestedly staring out of the window from the moment the carriage had moved off. 'Daniel wasn't best pleased. Any fool could see that.'
'Oh, I don't supposed he minded to any great extent,' she countered, not making the least attempt to lower her own voice. 'Why should he^ for heaven sakes! Lord Phelps is quite harmless, you know.'
'Hopeless, maybe!' Then, again in an undertone, 'But devilish handsome.'
'Undeniably so.' The Dowager then decided to prove to her old friend that his obvious concerns were quite without foundation, and turned at once to Robina. 'Did you notice the look on Hannah's face, dear, when Lord Phelps came trotting down the street towards us?'
Robina could not forbear a smile. 'I did as it happens. I wish I had a shiny golden guinea for every occasion I'd glimpsed that particular expression since the young Earl arrived in Brighton. I'd be a very rich woman by now!'
'I cannot recall your gaping at him in just such a fashion when you were first introduced.'
Robina's eyes twinkled with amusement. 'That is because I had been forewarned, you see. A gypsy accurately predicted, as things have turned out, that a handsome man would cross my path.'
'Good heavens!' Lady Exmouth betrayed genuine surprise, and not just mild interest too. 'I did not realise you'd been to a fortune-teller, child. When did you go? Was it recently?'
'Yes, quite recently. When Lord Exmouth took me out for my very first lesson in the curricle, we came upon a horse fair and decided to take a look around. The fortune-teller was amongst the attractions.'
'How very exciting! What else did she tell you, my dear?'
Robina felt that she had been dwelling rather more than she should of late on what that gypsy woman had told her, secretly hoping, she supposed, that perhaps more than just one of the predictions might come true. It would be comforting to think that she was destined to enjoy a full and happy life, but she was desperately striving to be sensible about it all.
'Oh, not very much, ma'am.' She shrugged. 'One must not take these things too seriously.'
'She was certainly right about the handsome young man,' her ladyship pointed out, slightly disappointed by Robina's distinct lack of enthusiasm. 'Did she predict a marriage for you, by any chance?'
'Bah!' Sir Percy interjected rudely, thereby earning himself an impatient glance from his friend. 'Well, it's all stuff and nonsense, Lavinia, as you very well know. And if she did happen to predict a marriage for the gel, I hope to high heaven it wasn't to that buffoon riding alongside us.'
It was an effort but the Dowager did manage to suppress the chuckle rising in her throat. 'Now, that is unkind, Percy. I wouldn't suggest for a moment that Lord Phelps is a stimulating orator, but he certainly isn't a simpleton.'
'Seems one to me. Have you ever tried to hold a conversation with the halfwit? Why, he goes off into a world of his own at the drop of a hat. Still,' he shrugged, 'I suppose he has been forced to adopt such tactics in order to get away from that mother of his, if only to mentally distance himself,' he continued, striving to be fair. 'She never leaves the boy alone. Drags him about with her everywhere.'
'Yes, I had noticed that myself,' the Dowager was forced to concede.
'And I'll tell you another thing,' he went on, warming to the subject. 'Don't let those die-away airs of Augusta's fool you. She's as sharp as a razor, that one! And as mean as a moneylender to boot! I've had it on the best authority that the only reason she's in Brighton now is because she hasn't had to dip into her own purse to pay for the house she's staying in. It was her sister who hired it originally. Only when the sister became ill late in the spring, she offered it to Augusta. She snapped up the chance by all accounts. And hasn't paid her sister a penny piece, if I know anything!'
Lady Exmouth had not heard this particular tale, but wouldn't have been in the least surprised to discover it was true. 'I'm afraid Augusta has changed. She isn't the friend I remember.'
'Very true. So you be careful, m'dear,' Sir Percy warned. 'I've also heard a rumour that she intends to stay over in England until next year. The family no longer owns a property in this country, so I wouldn't put it past her to sponge off her friends. If you're not very careful, she'll be inviting herself to Bath in the autumn and inflicting her company on you.'
'She'll be out of luck if she tries,' her ladyship responded. 'My plans are still uncertain. I should like to return to Bath after the summer, but there is every chance that I shall be returning to Courtney Place with Daniel.'
Sir Percy did not attempt to hide his astonishment. 'Why on earth are you considering doing that? Daniel's fully recovered—happier than I've seen him look for years.'
'Do you really think so?' The Dowager was much struck by this. She valued Sir Percy's opinion more than he realised. 'Perhaps, then, there'll be no need for me to return to Kent.'
'No need whatsoever,' he assured her. 'I'll admit I thought he could do with your support after the accident happened. That's why I took it upon myself to travel to Bath to collect you.'
'And very grateful I was too,' she responded, casting him a fond smile.
'Well, it was little enough at the time.' He shook his head at the all too vivid memory. 'But as I've said, Exmouth's fully recovered now and more than capable of arranging his own future, Lavinia, old girl. So, if you take my advice, you'll allow him to do so. He'll not thank you for interfering,' he added, casting her a meaningful glance.
Robina, who had sat quietly digesting everything that had been said, was of a similar opinion. She wasn't so certain as Sir Percy appeared to be that Daniel had fully recovered from the tragedy of losing his lovely wife, but she was sure that he was more than capable of running his own affairs without his mother's help, kindly though her ladyship's intentions were always meant.
At least Daniel proved himself very capable of finding his way to the spot Robina had suggested for the picnic without any trouble at all, for within what seemed a very short space of time he was drawing his curricle off the road, coming to a halt beneath the shading branches of a large yew.
Whilst Robina and the Dowager consulted on the exact spot to hold the picnic, Daniel organised the removal of the food baskets and rugs from the coach. The delicious aroma of roast chicken wafted through the air a
s the baskets were carried across the grass, making Sir Percy feel decidedly peckish, and he wasn't slow to voice the opinion that the contents of the baskets should be sampled before the champagne had chance to grow warm.
As no one objected to this, the Dowager ordered the servants to serve the food and drink immediately. Everyone, with the exception of Lord Phelps who ate sparingly, eagerly sampled each of the tempting offerings Cook had taken the trouble to prepare. Consequently, no one felt particularly energetic afterwards, and the game of cricket which Daniel had proposed earlier to keep his younger daughter entertained was postponed until the food had been given time to settle.
Hannah decided to follow Lord Phelps's example and sketch for a while. It was decided that the best view of the ruined priory could be obtained from a position close to the large wood which covered a substantial part of the landscape. A river meandered its way across the countryside close to the wood's edge, and nestling between a clump of trees on the far bank was what remained of the priory.
After spreading a blanket on the lush grass several yards from where Lord Phelps had chosen to position himself, Robina settled herself between the two girls. Hannah, a keen sketcher, was very quickly absorbed in the subject across the river, unlike her sister who swiftly lost interest, but who was persuaded to continue with her effort until she saw her father approaching.
Daniel paused to stare over Lord Phelps's shoulder, and was sufficiently impressed by what he saw to nod his head several times in approval, before he turned and moved slowly towards the girls.
'Phelps undeniably has talent,' he remarked in an undertone as he reached them.
He was generous in his praise of his elder daughter's effort too. He even managed to say something complimentary about Lizzie's rather hurried, half-hearted attempt, before finally coming to stand behind Robina.
'Well, now, what can one say about this effort, I wonder?' he remarked, after peering long and hard over her shoulder.
Robina, managing to school her features, continued with her drawing, just as though he were not there. Sketching had always been a favourite hobby of hers, an enjoyable way of passing those miserable, wet days when she could not venture out of doors. She had been told by many people, including her mother who was a severe critic when it came to judging the so-called female accomplishments, that she had undoubted talent. She knew her limitations, but was also very well aware that the subjects of her drawings were always instantly recognisable, and so was prepared to take any teasing in good part.
'That—er—object in the centre is the priory, I presume... Yes,' he muttered, turning his head on one side. 'If you look at it from this angle it does resemble a building... vaguely.'
'Oh, Papa! That is most unfair of you to make fun,' Hannah reproved. 'I wish I could sketch half so well as Robina.'
His brows rose. 'Robina?'
'Yes, well—but Robina gave me permission to call her by her first name.'
'And me too, Papa,' Lizzie informed him, abandoning her drawing completely now and scrambling to her feet. 'Did you know she has three sisters, and her papa gave them all boys' names, because he really wanted them to be boys?'
'No, he didn't, silly,' her elder sister corrected. 'He chose names for boys, and then changed them slightly when they all turned out to be girls.'
'He still wanted a boy. Robina said so,' Lizzie argued, before casting an enquiring glance up at her father. 'Did you want us to be boys, Papa?'
'No, sweetheart. I was more than happy with you and Hannah.'
This perfect response won him a bright smile from his younger offspring, as she caught hold of his hand. 'Come along, Papa. Let's go and explore the wood.'
'Very well, Lizzie, I'll come with you presently,' he responded, disengaging her hold. 'But first I must go and see if either your grandmama or Sir Percy wishes to accompany us. Don't you go off without me,' he warned, before striding back across the grass.
Lizzie, evidently not content to sit and await her father's return, decided to make use of a conveniently fallen tree to practise her balancing skills by walking back and forth along the length of the trunk, leaving Hannah and Robina in peace to continue with their sketching.
'I think that was very rude of Papa to say those unkind things about your picture,' Hannah remarked, once she knew her father was safely out of earshot. 'I never ever heard him criticise any of Mama's drawings. And yours is much better than any of hers that I ever saw.' She frowned suddenly. 'Mama didn't like it when people said unkind things about her pictures.'
Robina had gained the distinct impression already from odd remarks the girls had made that both of them remembered their lovely mother with deep affection, most especially Hannah who, being the elder by some three years, recalled things about their mother rather better than Lizzie did. Both had coped remarkably well with their sad loss, and both were touchingly close to their father.
Robina didn't suppose for a moment that Hannah's last remark had been intended as a slur on her mother's character. Evidently, though, the late Lady Exmouth either did not appreciate criticism, or objected most strongly to being teased. Robina had grown accustomed to both throughout her life, and so had not taken his lordship's less than flattering remarks to heart.
'Your papa, I've discovered, is a great tease. He certainly enjoys tormenting me from time to time.'
'He certainly teases Lizzie and me.' Hannah's frown returned. 'I cannot recall his ever teasing Mama, though.'
She looked across at Lord Phelps, who had remained quietly absorbed in what he was doing since he had selected his spot on the grass. 'He's very handsome, isn't he?'
'Very,' Robina agreed, thinking that girls grew up rather quickly these days. She could not recall ever noticing whether a gentleman was handsome or not when she had been Hannah's age. She could, however, remember wandering off by herself, when she had been specifically requested not to do so, just as Lizzie, the little monkey, appeared to have done.
'Your sister hasn't bothered to await your father's return, I see,' she said, placing her sketch pad carefully to one side, before rising to her feet in one graceful movement. 'I had better go and check she isn't getting into mischief.'
'She's always doing that,' Hannah grumbled. 'I had better come with you. One of these days she's going to get herself lost. Then she'll be sorry!'
As they entered the wood, they could see no sign of the girl. Experienced in the ways of her sister, Hannah voiced her suspicion that Lizzie had possibly gone down to the river. 'She would do that, as Papa particularly requested her not to do so.'
Robina could not forbear a smile. She could fully appreciate the girl's chagrin. Having three younger sisters, she knew well enough how annoying they could be on occasions, but she had never been tempted to play the talebearer, and she doubted that Hannah would ever consider doing so either.
'In that case we'd better search there first,' Robina suggested, leading the way through the undergrowth.
The long grass and bracken brushed against her skirts, but there was little she could do to protect them from the inevitable staining. Besides which, she was more concerned about Lizzie than her own appearance.
They arrived at the riverbank without catching a glimpse of the truant, but thankfully after a few moments Robina detected a gleeful chuckle in response to Hannah's calling. 'She's further along the bank,' she said, swiftly locating the direction of the faint noise.
Keeping a safe distance from the edge of the slippery, sloping bank, they continued to forge a path through the thick undergrowth, and eventually spotted the girl, clinging monkey-fashion to the overhanging branch of a tree which leaned some way out across the river.
'Come back at once, Lizzie!' Hannah ordered, a clear note of alarm in her voice, which Robina could quite understand. The branch was swaying precariously under Lizzie's weight. 'Come back at once, do you hear, or I'll go and fetch Papa!'
'Oh, very well,' Lizzie responded, evidently having taken her sister's threat seriously, and was
just beginning to edge her way slowly back when there was the unmistakable sound of splintering wood. Hannah let out a scream as Lizzie, immediately losing her grasp, dropped into the water, quickly disappearing into the murky depths.
Refusing to panic, Robina quickly dispatched Hannah to collect her father. Lizzie had landed in the water several yards from the bank, too far out to reach with a substantial stick, so Robina did not waste precious time in trying to make the attempt and swiftly removed both bonnet and shoes.
Only that morning she had been entertaining Exmouth's daughters with amusing tales of her own childhood exploits, some of which she was forced to admit she was now less than proud. However, one secret pastime in which she had never regretted indulging was learning to swim.
Her good friend Lady Sophia Cleeve had been taught to do so by her elder brother Lord Angmering, and had been eager to share this rare female accomplishment with her good friend the vicar's daughter. The lake on the vast Cleeve estate had been an ideal place to learn, and Robina, after a tentative beginning, had soon lost her fear of the water and had surprisingly excelled at this outdoor pursuit. Never had she been more grateful for this natural ability than now, for the instant she dived into the water her worst fears were confirmed.
The river looked peaceful, gently flowing, but beneath the surface were hidden currents and, worse still, beds of tangled reeds, just waiting to entwine themselves round an ankle or leg and slowly draw some poor unsuspecting soul slowly downwards to his death. Robina could feel those perilous green tendrils flicking against her skirts as she began to tread water, frantically searching for a sign of the little girl who moments before had been gasping and spluttering above the water line, but who now was nowhere to be seen. Then, blessedly, she noticed a stream of bubbles rising just a few yards away, and detected a flash of blue just beneath the surface.
She reached the exact spot in seconds. The water was murky, heavily silted, and visibility was poor, but thankfully after one swift plunge beneath the surface she made contact with the girl and, holding fast to the sleeve of the bright blue dress, she brought Lizzie to the surface.