Miss Cameron's Fall from Grace

by Helen Dickson

  ‘What is your name?’ Delphine asked sharply.

  ‘Alice Duncan—my lady,’ she added grudgingly.

  ‘Where is the caretaker my husband left to look after the house? A Mr Chambers, I believe his name was. Lord Fitzwaring sent word for you to expect our arrival. Where is he?’

  ‘Dead and in his grave these past six weeks—my lady.’

  ‘Oh, I see. Well—I am sorry to hear that. Would you be so kind as to fetch the housekeeper, if you please,’ Delphine said.

  ‘Mrs Crouch’s gone into the village to visit her sister. She’s not expected back ’til later. There’s just me and Davy.’

  ‘Davy?’

  ‘Me brother—and he’s seein’ to the wood for the fire.’

  Delphine hadn’t expected obstruction and was inclined to reply sharply, but reined herself in. ‘My husband expected the house to be fully staffed. I fear our arrival will cause a good deal of trouble—opening up the house after so long.’ She indicated the door through which Stephen had disappeared. ‘Lord Fitzwaring went that way. We have come a long way and would appreciate something to eat—and a fire would be agreeable,’ she said, rubbing her hands along her arms to ward off the chill that permeated the house. ‘Would you see to it?’

  Delphine had been raised to show respect and restraint when dealing with servants, but she suddenly knew that she was going to have to assert herself if she was to survive in this house.

  Slowly she moved about the hall, glancing about her. The sunlight slanting through the high, lead-paned windows did little to erase the shadows and lighten the mood of the hall. A wide, ornately carved oak staircase clung to the wall at one end.

  Returning to the hall, Stephen smiled ruefully. ‘The message I sent informing the servants of our impending arrival failed to get here—and sadly old Chambers has passed on.’ His wife’s distaste for the house was apparent. ‘The house is not what you are accustomed to, Delphine, but you’ll get used to it in time.’

  She sighed deeply. ‘I sincerely hope so—but at this moment it feels neither warm nor welcoming.’

  Her husband came to stand in front of her and stared at her dubiously. ‘I know how disappointed you must be and I respect your frankness—if nothing else. Will you give the place the benefit of the doubt and compromise your standards?’

  Delphine’s spine stiffened at his mockery and her tone was brittle as she lashed out with a stinging reply. ‘Whatever standards I might have had have been so completely tarnished of late that they bear no resemblance to the shining values of my youth.’ More gently, she conceded, ‘I fear it is part of growing up. To give up those values and dreams for reality is the cost, it would seem—if the condition of your house is anything to go by—I must pay.’

  Stephen smiled without a trace of rancour. ‘Well said, Delphine. I have sent someone to the village to fetch Mrs Crouch. She will soon have some food on the table. In the meantime I will show you around—although if the hall is representative of the rest of the house, I cannot imagine it pleasing you.’

  It did not. But despite the neglect, the furnishings were tasteful and Flemish tapestries depicting folklore and scenes from Greek mythology, many of them faded with age, hung in every room. The floors were all on different levels, which made a tour of the house a curiously up-and-down affair. The rooms and the great chamber all had big windows overlooking the courtyard.

  * * *

  Arriving back in the hall, Stephen shot his wife a questioning glance. ‘Well, what is your opinion of the house, Delphine? Do you think you will be happy living here?’

  Without replying immediately, she crossed to the hearth where the elusive Davy had lit a fire. Already it was taking hold and its heat went a little way to thawing her heart.

  ‘This is a fine house, that I cannot deny, but there is much to be done. Everything has been badly neglected—and the beds must be aired before we retire.’

  ‘Mrs Crouch will take care of that,’ Stephen said, standing beside her with his back to the heat. ‘Apparently most of the staff left after my last visit.’

  ‘Was there a reason?’

  He glanced at her, a mysterious smile playing on his lips. ‘Oh, yes—ghosts.’

  Delphine’s eyes opened wide. ‘Ghosts? Are you joking?’

  ‘I never joke about something as serious as ghosts,’ he said teasingly.

  ‘Are you telling me the house is haunted?’

  He nodded. ‘So they say—many who have stayed here have heard strange sounds on occasion. In these parts, people have a firm belief in the wandering spirits that are supposed to inhabit the region, often occupying themselves with the same objects and pursuits as before they passed into the world of shadows. Every dwelling place in Cornwall, in particular the old houses, has its ghost—not that I’ve experienced any hauntings myself. Do you mind?’

  Unable to repress a smile, she shook her head. ‘Not really—although I am reminded of All-Hallows Eve, when some of the older children at the orphanage would frighten the little ones with tales of goblins, ghosts and spirits until they refused to sleep alone. I have never experienced any myself. I know not whether I believe in such things—not that I’ve given it much thought—but I always think the living cause more trouble than dead.’

  ‘Those are my thoughts exactly. I strongly suspect that the peculiar noises heard are more to do with the caves that run beneath the house and the sea that fills them when the tide comes in. Strong winds blowing in from the sea might also have something to do with it. After the servants left, Mrs Crouch was hard put to get anyone else. Alice Duncan and her young brother Davy stayed on. They were born here; their parents worked for my father and they look upon Tamara as their home. Ghosts do not frighten them. When it becomes known that Tamara has a new mistress, I doubt we shall have any trouble recruiting staff, since every man and woman in the vicinity will want to take a look at you.’

  ‘I sincerely hope not, since there is clearly so much to be done. Are there any mines in the area?’

  ‘Several.’

  ‘And do you own any of them?’

  He nodded. ‘Three—all productive and profitable, one extending under the sea. Most of the people hereabouts depend upon the tin and copper mines for a living. Of course, another of the major industries in Cornwall is smuggling. It’s as well you know about this clandestine trade. The smugglers use the cove here at Tamara to bring in their contraband, so if you should wake in the night and hear horses’ hooves, turn over and go back to sleep. Ask no questions. Let them get on with it and they will leave you alone.’

  ‘Even though what they are doing is wrong?’

  ‘Absolutely. Interfere at your peril. Many inns and houses along every stretch of coast have deep cellars and passageways that provide a secure store for their contraband—even the caves I spoke of are used from time to time if the conditions or the Excise men prevent it being transported over the moor. It’s part of the fabric of their lives.’

  ‘But what they are doing is criminal.’

  ‘Government taxes on imports and exports are to blame. Far from being reviled, the smugglers are celebrated as local heroes. It is not limited to the poor. Priests, doctors, gentry to the local magistrate—even the Customs men frequently take part in it. They are all involved in one way or another, happy to turn a blind eye in return for the odd keg of brandy.’

  ‘Goodness! I begin to wonder about this extraordinary turn my life has taken. Smugglers and ghosts! Dear me! Cornwall suddenly makes London seem extremely dull.’

  He grinned. ‘You shall soon get used to it—and the house.’

  ‘I had no idea it would be so big or that it would need so much work.’

  ‘Mrs Crouch and Alice Duncan could not manage it alone.’

  The competent Mrs Crouch impressed Delp
hine the moment she laid eyes on her. She was a tall woman, tall and thin, yet as solid as a tree. Perhaps in her mid-fifties, her skin was flawless. Most startling of all were her eyes, which were deep and dark, in strange contrast to her snow-white hair. She was wearing a black gown with a plain white-linen collar and cuffs and her voice was soft, clipped and businesslike. Delphine liked her immediately. She could deal with someone like Mrs Crouch, whose authority was quietly impressive.

  Stephen and Delphine sat on either side of the large stone fireplace enjoying a glass of wine while Mrs Crouch prepared their evening meal. Stephen was the first to break the silence that had fallen between them.

  ‘I have decided to leave Tamara the day after tomorrow, Delphine. It is imperative I leave for Portsmouth. I have delayed my departure too long as it is. Had your father done as I asked and kept you in London until my return from Spain, things would have been different. As it is, you must make the best of it. You will find plenty to occupy your time and, when the local gentry get to know about you, you shall have no shortage of visitors. Mrs Crouch and Alice understand that you have governance of the entire household.’

  Delphine sighed, a frown puckering her brow. ‘That in itself is daunting to me. When I was growing up my mother worked hard to encourage interests beyond my charity work, but sadly I am no housekeeper.’

  ‘Mrs Crouch will help you. She has formidable organisational skills and is willing to roll up her sleeves and lend a skilled hand with any task you ask of her. It is important to me that you are happy here. Tamara is a beautiful house—your home, now—and while I am gone you have my permission to make it truly yours.’

  ‘Indeed?’ she said, looking around the gloomy hall. ‘In what way?’

  ‘In whatever way you wish. You may transform its Puritan austerity with brightness and comfort and anything else that takes your fancy.’

  ‘Am I allowed to hang new curtains at the windows,’ she asked, tentative at first, then growing bolder as fresh plans rushed through her brain, ‘and have the sofas and chairs re-upholstered in a colour and fabric of my own choosing?’

  Stephen grinned, enchanted by her enthusiasm. ‘Absolutely.’

  ‘And light the rooms with chandeliers and replace the floor coverings with Oriental carpets?’

  ‘Anything.’

  Suddenly she looked concerned. ‘I must confess that arithmetic was never my best subject and I have no experience of book keeping. Are you not afraid that I might ruin you?’

  ‘I think I can stand it.’

  ‘And you can afford to trust me with such a mammoth task? Can you really afford all that?’

  ‘Of course I can. I am a wealthy land-and-mine owner, Delphine. Money is no object; besides, nothing has been done to the house since long before my mother died. It’s time new life was breathed into it. You need not concern yourself with matters other than the house. The land, the mines and the people who depend on the Fitzwarings for their living are in the hands of capable agents.’

  ‘And what if something should happen to you in Spain? It is possible, considering the dangers you face on a daily basis.’

  ‘It is possible. In the event of my death, without issue the estate will pass into the hands of a cousin.’

  ‘And if I should have a child?’

  ‘Boy or girl, the child will inherit Tamara. Unlike most big estates, Tamara is not entailed to the male line. If there is no child, then you needn’t worry. You will be well taken care of. I have written to my lawyer in Falmouth to advise you in my absence and to instruct the bank to have money made available to you.’

  ‘I see,’ she said stiffly, avoiding his piercing gaze, wondering why she should feel this immense disappointment. Why should his leaving affect her so? She reminded herself sternly that he had not married her by choice.

  Stephen frowned, eyeing his wife curiously. ‘You seem put out. Why, Delphine? While the war in Spain goes on it is my duty to be out there with my regiment. You know that. It is important to me.’

  ‘So was my own work,’ she reminded him dejectedly. ‘Everything I have known—my life—my work—lies in ashes at my feet, all because of a brief moment of madness. I shall miss it dreadfully.’

  ‘I know. For what it’s worth I am sorry, but you always knew I had to return to my regiment.’ Content and relaxed, he joined his fingers in his lap and stretched his long legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankles. ‘Are you upset because you will miss me?’ His eyes narrowed on her speculatively, feeling a sudden reluctance to leave her behind. ‘If that is the case, then you could always follow the drum and join the other women who do not wish to be parted from their men even in war.’

  Brushing her hair away from her face, Delphine looked across at him, her eyes suddenly alight with laughter. ‘What? Be a camp follower trailing after you? Oh, no, Stephen. I think not.’

  ‘Why not? That way we should see each other often.’

  ‘Thank you for the suggestion, but I would not wish to be an encumbrance. Besides, why would I wish to drag myself off to Spain when I have a lovely new home to take care of and spend all your money on?’ she teased, suddenly tempted to take him up on his offer, shake off her cares and take to the open roads of the Peninsula.

  ‘Then I won’t waste words trying to convince you to abandon your mission.’

  ‘And I will have to go to London at some point for my sisters’ weddings. You would not object to that?’

  ‘Of course you must go. Your beautiful twin sisters would not take kindly to your being absent?’

  ‘Precisely,’ she said, unable to conceal the hint of bitterness in her tone, for she knew full well that she wouldn’t be missed if she didn’t go, not by her sisters and certainly not by her parents. ‘When I was born my parents couldn’t forgive me for not being the much-wanted son, and to be less beautiful than any of my sisters only added to their disappointment.’

  ‘You are far more beautiful than your sisters, Delphine,’ Stephen said softly. ‘I have not yet met your two older sisters, but in my opinion you possess a radiance and vitality that the twins lack.’

  Delphine forced a smile, touched by his attempt to make her feel better about herself. She was fully aware that any compliments he gave her were empty ones. He simply wanted to make her feel happier about herself and at home in these new and strange surroundings, and, if compliments might do that, he would no doubt tell her she was as alluring and captivating as Cleopatra herself.

  ‘I never thought short-sightedness to be one of your afflictions, Stephen,’ she chided. ‘My mouth is too big and my cheekbones too high. My eyes are not the fashionable blue—and the colour of my hair is certainly not in vogue these days.’

  ‘You do yourself an injustice—and there is certainly nothing wrong with my eyesight. True, you are not the blue-eyed blonde with soft, pretty features, not beautiful in the vapid, traditional way, no. There’s too much character in that lovely face of yours, too much intelligence in those pensive eyes.’

  ‘There you are, then, you agree with me,’ she said, a little hurt by his unflattering description of her face.

  ‘Allow me to finish. For a start, your mouth is not too big. It is a full, sensuous mouth, beautifully shaped. Your cheekbones are divine. They give you a cool patrician look few patrician women ever attain, and your eyes and the striking colour of your hair are incredibly arresting. So you see, on the whole, you are very beautiful.’

  Slightly embarrassed, she flushed. ‘I am surprised at your sudden propensity to flatter me.’

  ‘I am no flatterer, Delphine. I give my opinions honestly.’ Stephen’s expression was serious. A lock of dark hair had fallen over his angular face and there was an intensity in his eyes that surprised Delphine. More attracted to her by the moment, Stephen studied her closely, curious as to the reason for her
particular allure. It was more than just her face or her body that attracted him. She had a glowing gentleness that warmed him, a fiery spirit that challenged him and a radiance that drew him towards her with increasing power. His lips curved into a smile and when he spoke his voice was low and husky. ‘But what chance has a common soldier with a lovely young woman so in love with her charity work?’

  Because of her previous experiences with people and the many times she had been hurt, Delphine refused to take him seriously. ‘My charity work has nothing to do with it. I love being involved—and you are far from a common soldier. You are a colonel in Wellington’s army, fighting for your country. You should be proud of that.’

  Stephen looked at her long and silently, which surprised her, for he was not usually at a loss for words. His expression was unreadable, until gradually his stare became admiring. ‘You are a strange creature, Delphine. Just when I think I’m getting to know you, some new trait shows itself.’

  She laughed lightly. ‘Goodness! May the good Lord save me from being predictable.’

  ‘I doubt you shall ever be that. And therein lies your charm,’ he responded. ‘You don’t mind my going away?’

  ‘You have to, I know that. I do not expect you to desert your post because you married me—and I imagine you shall have plenty of accommodating female company,’ she ventured quietly.

  His jaw hardened. ‘You are determined to think me a libertine.’

  She flushed. ‘And you must understand why.’

  ‘And upon that you condemn me?’

  ‘I do not condemn you. Everything has happened so quickly. We have scarcely known each other a week. All this is new to us both. I am sure you enjoy the ladies—and they must adore you—although stealing your heart away from the army would be a difficult task for any woman to accomplish.’

  ‘That may have been true once, but now I have a wife it no longer applies.’