Laura Matthews

by A Very Proper Widow

  By now the tears were flowing freely down Louisa’s face. Vanessa winced, feeling desperately guilty again but knowing there was no way she could retrieve the situation. Her own handkerchief was thrust into Louisa’s hand and she put an arm about her waist to lead her from the schoolroom. Looking horribly betrayed, Louisa gasped, “You did tell him to leave, didn’t you?”

  “In a way, yes,” Vanessa admitted, leading her companion to Catherine’s room across the hall where they could sit undisturbed for a while. The room was done in yellow and white, looking bright and gay in the summer morning sunlight. Vanessa gently urged Louisa into a striped satin chair and pulled one close so she could speak softly. “I’m sorry this has happened, Louisa. My nerves were a bit on edge this morning, and William made a snide remark about your parasol. I promise you I hadn’t any intention of asking him to leave when I went down to breakfast this morning.”

  “What did he say about my parasol?” Louisa sniffled, not looking at her companion.

  “Oh, just that you would probably want to parade about the garden with it. You know how he has been. Well, I became annoyed with him for behaving like that, when here was the perfect opportunity to settle things with you, and I told him.” Vanessa flushed, but Louisa had her eyes pressed to the handkerchief. “I told him I would give him a week to offer for you, and if he didn’t, he’d have to leave. He said he would leave today.”

  Louisa straightened in her chair, clutching the wet handkerchief against her bosom. “He’s leaving because he doesn’t want to offer for me?” she asked, despair making her voice shake.

  “No, he’s leaving because I was so presumptuous as to give him an ultimatum.” Vanessa said it very firmly, to ensure its penetrating her unhappy friend’s mind, but she could not be sure that it had. “He’s miffed that I would bring up the subject at all, and he has no intention of being dictated to by me. And I shouldn’t have done it, Louisa, but I felt so very impatient with him this morning. I don’t expect you to understand or to forgive me. It was wrong, but on the other hand I won’t beg his pardon, either.”

  “Of course not,” Louisa said, pride stiffening her drooping shoulders. She rose, absently dropping the handkerchief on the floor. The tears had stopped abruptly and she reached out to squeeze Vanessa’s hand. “You had every right to do what you did, my dear, and I think it is best we know just how matters stand. There certainly is no reason for William to be here if he doesn’t plan to marry me. Strange, I had always thought he did, you know. How very odd! Well,” she said, forcing down a lingering sob, “I shall just have to accept this turn of events. It is better to know now, than to go on as we have been for the last twelve years. I do wish this had happened a little sooner, though. If I had known he didn’t intend to marry me, I would have looked about for someone else, as Mama says it is the only course for a woman—marriage. And I've grown a trifle old to be much in demand. That wasn’t the case when I was twenty. But that is bragging! We are all more in demand when we’re twenty, aren’t we? I don’t know quite why it is men think girls are so much more interesting than women. I have never found them so, but I’m not a man. Perhaps William liked me better when I was a girl.”

  “Louisa, really, you don’t understand!” Vanessa protested. “William’s leaving isn’t a sign that he doesn’t want to marry you. It’s me he’s angry with.”

  The vague eyes were not quite so vague when Louisa placed a hand on her arm, her head held erect. “It’s as good an excuse as any, Vanessa. He cannot bring himself to the sticking point, so he used that to get away. Just think how often he has quarreled with me for the same purpose. Whenever we were getting too comfortable, there was always some little disagreement. Oh, I know I am guilty of my share, but that was only because he would purposely say something to provoke me and I couldn’t resist being provoked. He doesn’t want to marry me.”

  “Nonsense. He does want to marry you; he just doesn’t want to marry your family.”

  Louisa blinked uncertain eyes, then shrugged. “Possibly. It amounts to the same thing in the end, doesn’t it?”

  There was no good answer, and the question was rhetorical, anyhow. Louisa turned toward the door, fumbled with the knob, and let herself out into the hall. Because she didn’t seem to remember in which direction to go, Vanessa quickly picked up the soggy handkerchief and followed her, leading the way toward the stairs. “Are you going to say good-bye to him?” she asked gently.

  “No. I would only make a fool of myself. I’ll stay in my room until he’s gone.”

  Feeling utterly helpless and not a little responsible, Vanessa saw Louisa to her room. They could hear the sounds of activity in the Entry Hall and Vanessa decided she really should go down and bid her guest farewell. The front door was open and his traveling carriage could be seen standing on the gravel, already piled high with valises. Vanessa had had no idea he had so much with him. To think that now the Chinese Chippendale bedchamber would be empty, after Alvescot had left. It hardly seemed fair.

  William was standing on the black and white tiles giving instructions. “That is to go in the carriage with me. No, don’t put anything more on the top. Strap this one to the rear. I shall be wearing the cloak to keep off the dirt of the road, even though it is a warm day.”

  When he heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs, he swung around, but apparently it was not Vanessa he expected to see. His gaze traveled further up to the hall above and then confusedly returned to her. He said stiffly, “As you can see, I’m leaving now. Thank you for having me.”

  “Of course. I trust you’ll have a pleasant journey.”

  “This is not the type of day I would ordinarily choose to travel,” he said petulantly, his gaze once more seeking the upper hall. “But then, I have no choice.”

  “You had a choice.”

  He rammed a beaver hat on his diminishing locks, bowed slightly, and moved to the door. Once again his eyes raced up the stairs. In a loud voice he announced, “I’m leaving now.”

  “Yes, so you said. If you’ve forgotten anything, we’ll forward it to Suffolk.”

  “I’m going to London.”

  “Well, if you wish to leave your direction, we’ll send anything there.”

  William scowled at the upstairs hall. “I won’t be leaving my direction.”

  “As you wish. Good-bye.” Vanessa was tempted to offer her hand, but he was paying no attention to her. Tompkins stood waiting to close the door behind him, but still William hesitated.

  “I haven’t left anything behind,” he said, stalling. “I was very careful about that. Every drawer, even under the bed. I didn’t just trust the servants; I looked myself. You won’t find anything, not a trace of me, once I’ve gone, once the dust has settled behind the carriage. It will be as though I’d never been here.”

  The thought seemed to depress him. With one more hopeless glance at the stairs, he turned and walked out, his shoulders hunched forward and his hands clasped uneasily behind his back. “Good-bye,” he called as he stepped into the carriage. Vanessa could hear his instruction for the coachman to proceed before Tompkins closed the door. And then the crunch of the wheels on the gravel, which quickly faded.

  Vanessa could not resist glancing up to see if Louisa had come out of her room, but the hall above was empty.

  Chapter Fifteen

  It took Edward several days to devise a scheme which pleased him. He didn’t want anything to go wrong. If the child were actually to come to any harm, Vanessa was more likely to boot him out of the house, as she had Oldcastle, than she was to marry him.

  Neither Louisa nor Vanessa was willing to talk about Oldcastle’s departure and Edward began to wonder if he’d made some sort of amorous advance toward his hostess. Edward had contemplated the efficacy of such a step, but especially now decided it wouldn’t do. He had to cover for himself. If he wasn’t able to convince Vanessa to marry him, he still wanted to be able to live at Cutsdean and receive his allowance.

  There was diver
sion enough for him in Basingstoke. Edward wasn’t particularly interested in Vanessa’s body. She wasn’t really his type at all, being so tall and dark. He preferred small fair-haired women, feminine versions of himself. Vanessa’s sole advantage, as far as he was concerned, was the access she would give him to financial independence. He didn’t really like her caustic tongue, nor her understanding of estate matters. When he became master of Cutsdean she would have to slide back into a more properly female role—directing the household and crocheting doilies, planning entertainments and taking her children to visit her parents in Somerset.

  Edward decided it would be well to plan the “accident” around his own riding ability, which would down two birds with one stone. Not only would he rescue Vanessa’s son, but he would exhibit his skill in the saddle and she would never consider denying him the stables again. The only obstacle to this plan was, of course, that he would be riding Harley’s nag, not the most dependable beast he could imagine. Still, he felt every confidence that he could handle the lazy animal. Edward was used to believing all horses lazy and stubborn when he took them in hand.

  The conversation at the breakfast table the morning he’d had the idea eventually helped him develop the plan. John and his pony were both attached to the stream on the south end of the estate. Edward had seen them there even before Oldcastle had mentioned John’s wet feet and Vanessa had explained. It seemed a simple matter to him to cause the boy’s pony to bolt with him into the stream bed. A prickly burr surreptitiously shoved under Rollo’s saddle blanket would start him off, and if the boy fell it would be into the shallow water, where he wouldn’t hurt himself. Edward would wait until they were actually on the stream bank, blocking the pony’s retreat in that direction with his own horse, but close enough to give immediate chase. The bank on the other side was steeper, and it was unlikely Rollo would try to climb it in his panic.

  So everything was settled in Edward’s mind. The only difficulty he was encountering was that Vanessa never invited him to join her and her son on their rides. She was, in fact, quite adamant about his not joining them, saying carelessly, “No, thank you, Edward, we’d rather go alone. John is jealous of my time and he wouldn’t appreciate your diverting me from giving him my full attention.” So each day they rode off by themselves and Edward was left to kick his best boots against a hapless fence post in frustration.

  After a few days, he no longer asked to be included. Instead, he rode out when they did, hoping they would go in the direction of the stream and he could appear there as if by accident. But they didn’t head for the stream. The weather was cool for the better part of a week, and Vanessa had no intention of allowing John to play in the stream when there wasn’t a hot sun to dry him out quickly. Twice, in fact, she had Catherine sitting up with her on her horse and they didn’t go far from the stables at all, just far enough to satisfy John’s insatiable need to be regarded as old enough to run his pony outside the confines of the stable yard.

  Vanessa would have liked to go for a long ride by herself, but her time was limited and any she could spare for riding was naturally devoted to accompanying her son, and occasionally her daughter. There had been no word from Alvescot or Oldcastle. Each day when Tompkins brought her the post she had to stifle her disappointment.

  A hard gallop across the fields might have relieved her of a little of her pent-up restlessness. She was not taking his rejection at all well, she admitted to herself. The placid manner in which she had accepted her household before Alvescot’s advent was permanently destroyed. Only with a supreme effort was she able to bear her remaining guests, and even then she was given to speaking her mind more often than she was used to do.

  It was time, she knew, to work up the courage to ask Hortense to remove to her house in Basingstoke as soon as the lease ran out. Each day she told herself this would be the day she did it. But each day she couldn’t be sure whether she was going to do it because Alvescot had suggested it, or because it was what she wanted. Her parents expected her to continue to house the old woman, and she was, after all, Frederick’s mother. What was perhaps more pertinent was that if Hortense went, Vanessa would be left with Mabel. Early on, Vanessa had suggested that Hortense could house her sister and her sister’s children at Basingstoke, and Hortense had stared at her with that sharp face and those cold eyes, saying, “You must be mad! There’s not room in that house for more than one person. It is a town house, my dear Vanessa, not meant for a family at all. There is but one decent bedroom in the whole place, and no acceptable public room at all.”

  Vanessa knew for a fact that there were four family bedrooms in addition to the servants’ rooms, and several comfortable parlors. But there was no use arguing with her mother-in-law. If Hortense wasn’t willing to house her own sister, Vanessa wasn’t going to be able to convince her to change her mind. No one changed Hortense’s mind. The only way to get her to leave was to tell her. Vanessa mentally debated the issue for days before coming to the decision that Hortense had to go, for her own peace of mind. If she didn’t act soon, Hortense would search for someone else to let the Basingstoke house and Vanessa would be stuck with her for another year at the very least.

  So one afternoon when she had changed into her riding dress but had some time before she was to take John to the stables, she hunted Hortense down in the Saloon, where the older woman was frowning at a letter in her hand. The frown remained when she lifted her gaze to Vanessa.

  “It’s from my brother,” she remarked. “He says he has decided to stay in Somerset permanently. Apparently there’s a naval man there who has befriended him, and he prefers his society to that of his own family.”

  “How nice for him to have found a friend. I’m sure it’s a wise course for him to pursue.” Vanessa seated herself opposite Hortense, whose eyes had narrowed and were observing her keenly.

  “The population here seems to be decreasing rapidly, and I wonder if you are not responsible for the change,” Hortense commented with an intimidating glare.

  Vanessa steeled herself against the woman’s assumption of authority. It would be too easy to gloss over the matter—and neglect to carry out her intention. She clenched her riding gauntlets a little more tightly in her lap. “That’s a matter I wished to discuss with you, Hortense. The lease on your house in Basingstoke will soon expire and I think it would be . . . prudent for you to move back there.”

  “Prudent? What are you talking about? I’m settled here.”

  “Yes, but this is no longer your home. This is my home, and my son’s and my daughter’s. You have a home of your own over which you can exercise complete control. Often enough you’ve objected to the way I run things at Cutsdean and it makes for an uncomfortable situation.”

  “I’m perfectly comfortable here,” Hortense insisted.

  “You would be more comfortable in your own home.”

  “You mean you would be more comfortable if I weren’t here!”

  Vanessa lifted her shoulders in a gesture of resignation. “Yes, that’s true. I can’t see any point in your being here, Hortense. You don’t approve of the way I raise my children, you don’t approve of the way I run my household, you don’t particularly approve of me. We don’t rub along together satisfactorily. There’s no sense in your staying here.”

  “Cutsdean was my home for thirty years.”

  “Yes, but it’s no longer your home. When Frederick brought me here as a bride, he moved you to the house in Basingstoke.”

  “He would have wanted me to return here after his death, to see that the family heritage was properly maintained.”

  Vanessa shook her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t believe that’s true. Even Lord Alvescot said Frederick would not have intended for you to return here.”

  “Ah, I see,” the older woman proclaimed, her eyes glittering angrily. “It is my nephew who’s at the bottom of this. He always was a troublemaker. But it won’t do you the least good to try to please him now he’s gone, young lady. He’s no more
possessed of a knowledge of what my son would have wanted than you are. It is my duty to stay and see that Cutsdean and the Damery name are treated with the proper respect.”

  “No,” Vanessa said gently. “You’ve been here for two years and I can’t see that it’s done the least good. You wouldn’t be happy here unless you were in charge of Cutsdean, and that I can’t allow. Cutsdean is my responsibility now. I’m doing my utmost to preserve it for John, and I have to run it the way I see fit.”

  Vanessa rose, pulling on the riding gauntlets. “The lease on your property in Basingstoke is almost expired. I want you to move back there, Hortense, as soon as it’s available. Don’t be concerned about your grandchildren; I’ll bring them to visit you as often as you wish.”

  Vanessa waited to see if her mother-in-law chose to respond to this direct instruction, but the older woman sat silent, staring straight ahead of her. There was an arrogant tilt to her head which Vanessa knew well. If Hortense decided to ignore what she’d just said, Vanessa could not picture bodily removing her from Cutsdean. Well, she had done what she could. Hortense lived by her own code of honor, and if it could incorporate staying where she didn’t belong, there was little Vanessa could do.

  “Excuse me, please. I have to meet John at the stables,” she said, and walked quickly from the room.

  Her mind was preoccupied during the ride. John chattered with his usual eagerness and she smiled at him, teasing occasionally, but not with her whole attention. The day was warm again after a cool spell and she agreed that they would go to the stream. When any thought of Alvescot drifted into her head, she thrust it forcefully aside. There was enough to worry about with Hortense and the others. Louisa, according to her mother, was going into a decline.

  And it was true that Louisa was more than usually subdued, but Vanessa could think of nothing to divert her mind. She didn’t wish to ride, or read, or even play the pianoforte any more than was necessary under her mother’s insistence. Edward made fun of her for pining after such a fool as Oldcastle, and Mabel accused her of letting him slip through her fingers.