Lena caught snatches of their discussion and was surprised by Peter’s knowledge of painting. It was something she would have to ask him about as she herself had a liking for the work of John Ward of Hull.
When the final course was finished, Marcia rose and was followed by the rest of the ladies to the drawing-room, leaving the men to their cigars and port.
The general talk was of the latest fashions and the opinions expressed in several ladies’ magazines. They were not publications to which Lena subscribed, though she did try to keep abreast of fashion trends to some degree. Now she realised that her knowledge should probably be extended, especially if she were to become a doctor’s wife. She smiled to herself as she wondered what these ladies would have thought if they had seen her attire when she had roamed Whitby’s quays and wharves. Gossip began to take over and when Hull was mentioned Lena strained her ears to catch any comments made about the Hustwick family.
‘My dear Miss Carnforth, or should I follow our hostess’s request for informality and say Pauline?’ One young lady drew her attention. ‘You were sitting next to the highly eligible Mr Hustwick, and I noticed that at times you were deep in conversation with him. How did you find him?’
‘Polite and attentive,’ replied Lena, without elaborating, and was relieved that the matter could be taken no further when the door opened and Charles led in the men to join the ladies.
Lena noticed Peter make straight for the young woman with whom he had arrived at Weaver Hall, whose name she had learned was Greta, though beyond that she knew no more about her. Laughter ran out from their exchanges. Lena’s lips tightened in annoyance.
‘I hope you are enjoying yourself.’ Alistair’s quiet voice broke into her thoughts.
She forced a smile. ‘Oh, yes, indeed.’
‘You looked somewhat preoccupied?’
‘Just wondering how Mama and Papa would have viewed my coming here with you.’
‘I’m sure they would have approved.’
‘I believe you are right.’
Conversation flowed freely among the groups that had formed but host and hostess, without making it appear too obvious, made sure that their guests freely circulated so that a friendly atmosphere was encouraged generally. Wine was served and coffee and sweetmeats made available.
After an hour Marcia clapped her hands, bringing silence to the room. ‘Eliza has agreed to play the piano for us.’
The murmur of approval coming from a number of guests told Lena some of them already knew of Eliza’s talent. She found their opinion borne out when Eliza stroked the keys with a delicate touch, drawing out the most exquisite sounds as she played Chopin. She followed the piece with others by Mozart and Brahms. Whenever she finished a piece there were cries for more until finally Marcia intervened and called for a rest for her. She was loudly applauded and everyone wanted to make their own personal thanks until finally they settled down to conversation again.
‘Wasn’t that splendid?’ Peter voiced his pleasure as he and Greta came to talk to Lena and Alistair.
‘Indeed it was,’ replied Alistair.
‘Truly an accomplished performance,’ said Greta. ‘I wish I played as well.’
‘You play the piano?’ queried Lena.
‘I do,’ Greta confirmed, ‘but not as well as Eliza. I could never compare myself to her. Do you play, Lena?’
‘Yes, I do, though I too could not compete with her. What about you, Peter?’
‘No’ he replied with a shake of his head.
‘It’s never too late,’ she pointed out.
‘That’s what I keep telling him,’ said Greta.
‘I have you to entertain me, my dear.’
Lena squirmed at the thought of these two enjoying a musical evening together.
Greta gave a small dismissive gesture. ‘You make it sound as if I am a frequent visitor to Raby Hall.’
‘You do not live nearby?’ queried Lena.
Greta gave a little laugh. ‘Goodness, me, no.’
At that moment Charles approached. ‘I’m sorry to break in, but can I drag Alistair away? Jemima’s not feeling too well. I wonder if you would have a word with her, Alistair?’
‘Of course.’
‘Marcia’s taken her to the small drawing-room.’
‘Can we be of any help?’ Greta asked.
‘No, no. She doesn’t want any fuss, but I insisted she see Alistair.’ The two men hurried away.
With a challenging smile Peter said, ‘Maybe this is a good opportunity to put that question to the young lady who accompanied me here?’
Lena scowled but realised he had backed her into a corner from which she could not escape.
‘A question for me?’ asked Greta, mystified.
‘Earlier, when we were dining, Lena asked me who I would choose from the ladies present this evening.’ Lena blushed crimson. ‘I said, “maybe you”, meaning Lena herself. She asked what my companion would say to that, and I replied we would have to ask her but promised not to do so until we three were together. Well, here we are.’
Greta laughed. ‘Peter, you are deliberately embarrassing Lena.’ She leaned towards her. ‘This man is a tease, take no notice of him.’ She turned back to him. ‘You know full well this has nothing to do with me.’ She stopped in full flow. ‘Oh, I see, you were making out that I was very close to you, someone special.’ She turned back to Lena. ‘We are close, I suppose, in the way of many cousins.’
‘Cousins?’ Lena queried with surprise.
‘Yes,’ confirmed Greta. ‘Nothing more than that! He is very dear to me, though as free as the wind in matters of the heart.’ She glanced across the room. ‘Someone wants me,’ she said, responding to a gesture. ‘I will see you again later.’
Though angry at the trick Peter had played on her by his deception, Lena could not deny that her heart was racing and her thoughts soaring at this news, but he needed admonishing. ‘That was an unkind trick you played on me, letting me think . . . ’ Seeing the laughter in his eyes she stopped, shrugged her shoulders and said, ‘Well, I suppose you derived pleasure from it.’
‘I did, and will do anew because now I have to make it up to you in some way. You must visit Hull again, then I can keep my promise to take you on the river.’
He did not receive her response because at that moment Marcia reappeared with Alistair and announced, ‘Jemima will be all right. Alistair has diagnosed nothing serious. He has given her a sedative. A good night’s sleep should do wonders.’
Murmurs of relief ran round the room. Sensing the atmosphere, which had dipped a little on Jemima’s indisposition, lift again, Charles announced, ‘Tomorrow we have planned a day out to Kirkham Abbey, weather permitting, and I believe the signs are good. Anyone who wants to ride there can take one of our horses; carriages will be provided for those who wish a more leisurely journey. Those who do not want to go are very welcome to stay here and enjoy our home. All I ask is that you let Marcia know your intentions before you go to bed this evening.’
Alistair crossed the room to Lena and Peter. Not wanting Peter to reveal that they already knew each other from her visit to Hull, she quickly stepped in to make a more comprehensive introduction. ‘Alistair, it was Peter’s father with whom James negotiated when I accompanied him to Hull. Peter kindly showed me the town and countryside. ’
‘It was a pleasure to find someone interested in Hull,’ he put in, using a non-committal tone when he realised that she had not previously mentioned any details of her visit to Alistair.
‘Then I must thank you for looking after Miss Carnforth in a strange town.’
‘She was a charming companion, and brought a much-needed lightness of atmosphere to the moments when the four of us dined together. If Lena hadn’t been there, my father would have talked nothing but business.’ To move away from the subject Peter added, ‘Will you both be going to Kirkham tomorrow?’
‘I think I had better stay here because of my patient. I have recommended that
she has a quiet day tomorrow,’ said Alistair.
‘Then I shall stay with you,’ offered Lena.
‘No, there is no need. You must go and enjoy yourself,’ he urged.
‘I’ll be on my own.’
‘You can accompany me and my cousin,’ put in Peter quickly.
‘There you are, my dear, you can’t refuse,’ said Alistair, putting weight behind Peter’s offer.
Lena hesitated. She wanted to agree but did not want to make it look too obvious. The chance to spend more time with Peter, even with his cousin around, was tempting. She wanted to know more about him, and in her mind was already busy making comparisons between him and Alistair. ‘Very well,’ she agreed, not at all reluctantly.
‘Excellent,’ said Peter. ‘You can rest assured that Miss Carnforth will be well looked after and returned safely to you.’ He turned to Lena. ‘Do you ride or will we take a carriage?’
‘I’m afraid I do not ride,’ she said, a touch of regret in her voice.
‘Then it will be a carriage. I will tell Marcia of our intention. ’ He made his excuses and left them to seek out Greta first.
When he was able to get her on her own, he informed her of the arrangements.
‘Oh, dear.’ She pouted. ‘I had so looked forward to riding. Charles tells me he has some fine horses in his stable.’
‘Please, on this occasion, accompany Lena and me in the carriage.’
‘Ah!’ The light of knowing curiosity came to her eyes. ‘Do I detect a growing interest in Miss Lena Carnforth?’
Peter smiled. ‘Who knows?’
‘I suspect I am right, but what about the good doctor? Do her feelings lie in that direction?’
‘I feel I have the advantage - she has inherited an interest in mercantile matters from her father.’
Greta raised an eyebrow. ‘Ah, the plot thickens.’ She gave a sly smile. ‘Do you really want me as chaperone?’
‘I think it would look better, but chaperones can sometimes slip away.’
Her eyes twinkled. ‘No doubt. And for my very dear cousin, I expect it will happen.’
When everyone was gathered at breakfast, Charles announced there were seven people for carriages, four for one and three for the other; six people, including himself and Marcia, would ride, and the rest would stay at Weaver Hall.
Twenty minutes later Peter was shepherding Greta and Lena into their coach. All around was excitement as others mounted their horses and those staying behind waved them off, wishing them a good day. Alistair remained with the party at the Hall.
‘Follow me!’ called Charles, and set a steady pace in consideration for the coaches.
After a mile he turned off the main track and took one that ran round the edge of a large field towards a group of buildings including two small cottages. As they neared them, two men dressed as grooms emerged, one from a cottage, the other from a nearby building that bore all the hallmarks of a stable.
‘Good day, sir,’ they called as Charles halted the party and swung down from his horse.
‘And to you, Bob, Jack.’ He called to the others. ‘Would you all like to dismount? There’s something I’d like to show you in which I think you will be interested.’
Two boys had run from the stable. They and the groomsmen quickly had the horses tethered to a rail provided for the purpose and then followed the group Charles was leading towards the stable.
‘All this has been recently renovated,’ commented Peter as he cast his eyes over the buildings. His observation was borne out by conditions inside, which showed a strict observance of neatness and cleanliness. The visitors’ remarks of surprise and approval grew in volume when they saw stalls stretching the full length of the building. It was obvious that these animals were special. Those who knew horses realised they were looking at thoroughbreds. Questions began to flow towards Charles, who smiled and held up his hands for quiet. He held out his hand to Marcia, indicating that he wanted her beside him. She slipped her hand into his.
‘This is our new venture . . . well, I know my wife would want me to use the word “our” but it is really her suggestion. I am sure it will prove a wise one and also be profitable. We have sought expert opinion and gained the advice of several well-known figures in the racing world about our stock.’
‘I knew you were both keen riders but I did not know you had an interest in the racing world,’ someone said ‘We hadn’t. This is something completely new for us.’
‘It looks as if you are going into it in a big way,’ came another observation.
‘We don’t believe in half-measures,’ Charles confirmed. ‘The full hog for us - but within our means, of course! Apart from racing some of these horses, we hope to run a stud. It all stems from the downturn in the corn market because of cheap imports from America. We won’t be hit as hard as some; we aren’t dependent on corn, though we will continue to grow some. As you know, we have flocks of sheep and some cattle but we wanted something to replace the corn. Marcia came up with the idea of thoroughbred racehorses. So that is what we have done.’
‘You’ll be sure to give us the nod when you have a likely winner?’ someone called, a suggestion that brought jovial murmurs of agreement from the rest of the party.
‘Maybe you’ll have a chance later this year. We have our minds set on a runner at Beverley.’
‘Which one?’
‘Don’t really know yet. Look around and take your pick.’
As people spread out along the row of stalls, admiring the animals, Greta found one particular horse captured her attention. Peter led Lena on as he asked, ‘Do you follow racing?’
‘No.’
‘Then that is something else we’ll have to put right.’
As they walked though the stable, Lena’s thoughts were awhirl. What was Peter offering - racing, sailing, more than that? And then there was Alistair, dear Alistair, a lifelong friend who would bring her stability and standing in the community, respect and every comfort. She could never imagine him sailing or attending a race meeting, though, and he certainly was no passport into the mercantile world.
‘You’re deep in thought,’ Peter whispered close to her ear.
Lena started. She had not realised how abstracted she had become. ‘I was thinking about what you just said.’
‘Favourably, I hope?’
She shrugged her shoulders. ‘You are too far away to put it right.’
He pursed his lips. ‘Maybe . . . you’ll have to let me think about it. In the meantime lesson one begins.’ He led her to the next stall and displayed his knowledge of what to look for in a racehorse that might make it a potential winner. Lena found herself rapidly becoming fascinated.
‘I did not know you were such an expert. You must have been around horses a lot.’
He smiled. ‘Not at all! Though I had a number of friends who were. They attended races regularly at Beverley and York and I generally went along. I learned a lot from them.’
‘Everyone!’ Charles’s voice resounded above the chatter. ‘We’ll leave in five minutes.’
The chattering continued as they went back to their horses and carriages. Thanks were passed to the grooms and stable boys, and congratulations and best wishes for the new enterprise were showered on Marcia and Charles.
‘That was most interesting,’ mused Greta as she settled down and the carriage got under way. ‘You know, Peter, there’s nothing to hold me in Northampton. I think I might consider moving back to Hull.’
‘That would be splendid. It would be good to have you near again. We had some grand times together.’ He glanced at Lena. ‘Greta is an only child. When her parents moved to Northampton and were seriously injured in an accident, she felt obliged to leave Hull to look after them. Their injuries did not take their final toll until two years later. Now Greta has been left on her own. Think seriously about a move, Greta.’
‘I believe I already have.’
Lena felt a pang of jealousy and tried to quell it with the thou
ght that Greta had intimated she and Peter were nothing more than close cousins. He was romantically free. Nevertheless alarm bells rang in her mind. It was not too unusual for cousins to marry!
Chapter Thirteen
‘There’s someone I want to have a word with,’ said Greta as they came out of the inn opposite the ruins of Kirkham Priory. ‘I’ll see you at the carriage when it’s time to leave.’
Peter took his chance. ‘Care to walk by the water?’ he asked Lena.
‘That would be pleasant,’ she replied.
They strolled towards the water and then along the bank of the river flowing gently through the pleasant Yorkshire countryside, each waiting for the other to speak but feeling content just to be together.
‘It would be companionable for you to have Greta near, if she is serious about moving,’ Lena broke the silence.
‘It would. I detect from her remark that she has almost made up her mind and whenever she does, she acts quickly so it wouldn’t surprise me if a move takes place soon. I look forward to that. It could give you the perfect opportunity to visit Hull.’
Lena looked askance at him. ‘How? What do you mean?’
‘It would look better if an invitation to visit came from Greta rather than me; you would not be staying under a gentleman’s roof.’
Lena gave a small smile at the intrigue he was proposing; it sent a certain thrill through her. ‘She could invite you to attend Beverley races or some other function, for example,’ Peter continued.
‘You seem to have given this some thought?’
‘No. It has just burst upon me. In affairs of the heart, where you are concerned, I don’t believe in missing an opportunity.’
‘You flatter me, Peter, but don’t get too many ideas . . .’ She laid a hand on his arm.
He stopped and turned to look at her. Their eyes met with an expression that said everything without their needing to utter a word. He drew her to him then and their lips met, gently at first then more firmly in an expression of their deep feeling.
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