by Ann Barker
‘Jez,’ he said. ‘Jez, did I kiss you when I was delirious?’
‘It’s all right,’ she said, blushing fierily. ‘You didn’t know what you were doing.’
His gaze dropped to her lips before his eyes met hers once again. ‘That’s not very flattering to you,’ he said. ‘A man would have to be mad, not to want to kiss you; especially one who had tasted the sweetness of your lips.’ There was a long silence. Then the door opened, and Ilam came in.
Jessie turned her head, her face aflame. ‘I can’t manage him,’ she said, sounding breathless.
Ilam crossed to the bed. ‘I believe a lot of women have said the same.’
In the past, Ashbourne would have made a smooth rejoinder. On this occasion, as much to his surprise as anyone else’s, he snapped, ‘Have some sense, Ilam. She’s only trying to give me an extra pillow.’
After the earl had been propped up, Jessie left Ilam to give his father some tea whilst she retreated to her room to cool her hot cheeks.
‘Thank you,’ said Ashbourne, after Ilam had assisted him to take a few sips, the earl’s hands still being too shaky to hold the cup reliably.
‘I’m glad that I can be of assistance,’ Ilam replied in an even tone.
‘But you still wish me at the very devil,’ Ashbourne observed.
‘Not sufficiently to smother you with that pillow,’ Ilam pointed out.
‘Ah, but then you had Jez as a witness,’ the earl reminded him.
‘So I did.’
‘Not that I think you would have done it anyway. I appear to have fathered a man of principle. God alone knows how.’
‘Doubtless it’s because I never saw anything of you.
Ashbourne raised his hand defensively. ‘Touché.’
The viscount got up off the bed where he had been sitting and wandered over to the window. ‘Anyway, sir, to prove that I intend nothing but your good, I’m setting plans in motion to take you to Illingham.’
‘Illingham? Why?’
‘The doctor tells me that you will recover better in the country.’
‘We could go to Ashbourne, then the expense and trouble would fall upon me and my servants rather than yours.’
Ilam looked at him, his face set. ‘I would rather not go there,’ he said harshly.
‘Why ever not?’ the earl asked.
‘Some of the most unhappy moments of my life have been spent there, thanks to you,’ said Ilam.
‘And mine,’ answered Ashbourne softly, ‘but the place amounts to more than fleeting moments of unhappiness for you and for me. What’s more, it will be yours one day; perhaps sooner than later, if you decided to smother me after all.’
After a pause, Ilam shrugged and said indifferently, ‘Please yourself. Have you finished with that tea?’
‘Yes, thank you.’
Ashbourne stared at the door after his son had gone. It was possibly the longest conversation that they had ever had.
Chapter Twenty-one
They left London several days later, with every arrangement having been made for Lord Ashbourne’s comfort. Their party formed quite a cavalcade. Ashbourne travelled in one carriage with cushions, footstools and blankets all provided for his comfort. Pointer, being well acquainted with his needs, likes and dislikes, accompanied him, along with Jessie. Lady Agatha travelled in the second coach with Lord and Lady Ilam. A third carriage followed, carrying most of the luggage, and the remaining abigails and manservant.
The arrangement of the different persons in the party had been the subject of much discussion. Naturally, Lord and Lady Ilam wanted to be together. There was not room for all the others to go in Lord Ashbourne’s coach, and for him to be comfortable. Lady Agatha and her brother tend to irritate one another, so it was decided that Jessie should go with the earl. ‘Jez never annoys me,’ he said, making her blush with this mild compliment.
‘If he hurts her, I really will kill him,’ Ilam said, under his breath to his wife before they got into the carriage.
‘I don’t think he will,’ Eustacia replied, catching hold of his arm and squeezing it. ‘He’s fond of her, I think. Oh Gabriel, wouldn’t it be wonderful if that fondness became something more?’
He looked down at her glowing face. ‘Very wonderful,’ he answered. ‘You look deuced pretty this morning, my love. Can’t we make Aunt Agatha travel on the box?’
For the journey, Jez took with her several books to share with Ashbourne, as well as a travelling chess set and some cards. She also had with her the copy of Mary Wollstonecraft’s book that Lady Ilam had given her. No doubt Ashbourne would become tired and need to rest frequently.
In fact, the very activity of getting ready and setting off proved to be too much for him, and he soon closed his eyes, leaving Pointer to his book – a copy of Robinson Crusoe – and Jessie to her own thoughts.
She had been to Sloane Street to see Henrietta in order to bid her farewell. She had also told her, as gently as she could, that she had decided to end her engagement to Henry.
Although disappointed, Henrietta had not been completely surprised. ‘I think you would have been very good for Henry, but I could tell that your feelings turned in another direction when you hurried off to Raff’s side,’ she said. ‘I do hope that there will be a happy outcome for you.’
Jessie smiled. After loving Raff for so long without any prospect of a return she did not hold out a great deal of hope but she did not say so. ‘I have written to Henry, but I do not like to entrust his ring to the postal service,’ she said. ‘Will you take care of it, please, until he can collect it from you in person?’
‘Of course,’ Henrietta replied. ‘Although I fear he may not be very pleased with me.’
‘Why is that?’ Jessie asked.
‘I have told Mrs Smales that I do not need her to return.’
‘What are you going to do instead?’ Jessie asked curiously.
‘I have invited Miss Simms to come and live with me,’ she replied defiantly. ‘I hope you don’t disapprove. She has told me about her connection with Sir Wallace Weary, and knowing what he is capable of, I believe that she is not to blame for her misfortune. We will find a tenant for her house and share the proceeds.’ Then, to Jessie’s great surprise, the other lady hugged her warmly. ‘Thank you,’ she said, with unmistakable sincerity.
Jessie returned her embrace but had to say, ‘Whatever for?’
‘For helping me to be more brave and daring,’ was the reply. ‘While you have been here, I have done things that I only dreamed of before.’
Jessie had to reply that the feeling was mutual, although she reflected privately that there were some things that she had done that might have been better left alone.
She had also taken a little time to say goodbye to Miss Simms, who was truly sorry to see her go. The dressmaker presented her with a shawl which she had made from a length of silk, and edged with a frill. ‘I have really enjoyed the times when we have sat sewing together,’ she said. ‘Apart from the fact that you did a good deal of work for me, you made the time pass very agreeably.’
‘I enjoyed it too,’ Jessie confessed, trying on the green patterned shawl in front of the mirror.
‘Not only that, but you have introduced me to some new friends. I don’t know whether you have heard, but Mrs Machin and I plan to share a home together with Bryony.’
‘I had heard it and I’m very pleased for you both,’ answered Jessie. She only hoped that Mrs Machin would not lead her new companion into any scrapes in pursuit of ideas for her novel.
To no one did she divulge the fact that she and Raff were married. She was still trying to summon up the courage to tell him. No doubt he would then immediately seek an annulment.
Any doubts on that score were laid to rest after Lady Gilchrist had come to pay Raff a visit. Her ladyship had called on the same day when Jessie had visited Henrietta, and had been shown to the earl’s room by Pointer.
‘Penelope, my dear, this is very kind,’ said Raff,
as she walked gracefully over to the bed and bent to kiss him.
‘Raff, how delightful to see … so much more of you,’ she answered, glancing down at his half unbuttoned night shirt.
He laughed. ‘I’m glad you admire my décolletage,’ he said. ‘It’s only because Pointer needs to be able to get to my bandages.’
‘I am glad to see that you are recovering so well,’ she said. ‘Rumour had it that you were on your deathbed.’
‘Rumour had it about right,’ he replied, ‘But thanks to a good constitution and excellent care, I have been preserved.’
‘And so you fought the wearisome Weary, who has now relieved us all by fleeing to the continent,’ she remarked. ‘Thank you, Pointer, yes I would like a glass of wine,’ she added to the manservant who had just come in. ‘Are you allowed any yet, Raff?’
Raff looked at Pointer. ‘Well, am I?’
‘Perhaps a small glass, my lord.’
‘Yes, I fought Weary,’ Ashbourne agreed after Pointer had gone. ‘There was always bad blood between us, you know.’
‘Weary was his wife’s second choice. He never forgave you because she preferred you. I suppose this duel was over a woman?’
‘It was; but not over you, my dear.’ He had remembered that much.
She smiled. ‘I didn’t suppose it for a minute,’ she answered. ‘Have you finally admitted to yourself that you are in love with her?’
He smiled ruefully. ‘Yes I have; twice, I think.’ Seeing her startled look he went on. ‘Your words to me at the Cumberland tea gardens made me question my feelings for her. It was only when I thought I was losing her to Weary that I realized how much she had come to mean to me. Then, of course, I took that wound, and everything went hazy for a time. Penelope …’ He paused.
‘Yes, Raff?’
His voice, when it came, was quiet and hesitant. If it had been anybody else in the whole world who had spoken, she would have said that he sounded shy. ‘Have you ever been in love?’
‘I believe so,’ she answered carefully.
‘Then you’ll know what I mean when I say that every new revelation about her is fascinating to me; her every movement a delight; her every word and opinion to be stored and remembered. I can’t get enough of her, Penelope. I want her here all the time;’ – he patted the bed – ‘preferably here all the time. I want to care for her, to protect her; but I burn for her as well, and if by my blindness and neglect I’ve missed my chance, well, I shall wish that Weary had been more lucky in his blow.’
They sat in silence for a while. At last, Lady Gilchrist said, ‘You really are in love. My dear Raff, she has been in love with you for years. It cannot be that her love could just die. Wait until you are a little better and speak to her then.’
‘But she is engaged to Henry Lusty,’ he said, his dejected tone in marked contrast to the passion that had been in his voice as he had spoken about his feelings for Jessie. ‘He’s a far better man than I have ever been, or probably ever will be. She’s even told me so.’
‘But he is not you,’ she answered. ‘There isn’t another man like you.’
He laughed softly. ‘Is that a compliment?’
‘It’s the truth.’
‘We each have a glass of wine. What shall we drink to?’
She thought for a moment. ‘To our happiness – and the triumph of true love.’
Jessie, returning from her visit to Sloane Street had decided to pop in to Raff’s room with Henrietta’s good wishes, and a copy of her book, A Scoundrel in The Church, which she thought the earl might find entertaining during his convalescence. As she approached the door, which was about a quarter open, she realized that Ashbourne was with Lady Gilchrist, and was just in time to hear the last five speeches. The faint hope that the earl might turn to her finally died. Sir Wallace had been right. Raff’s happiness lay with Lady Gilchrist. She straightened her shoulders and walked to her room. Mrs Machin’s book could wait until later.
As they were leaving, Mr Hinder came to Berkeley Square to wave them off. ‘I haven’t mentioned you-know-what to anyone,’ he whispered to her, when no one was looking.
‘Well don’t,’ answered Jessie. ‘Pretend it never happened.’
‘But—’
‘Do as I ask, please,’ Jessie implored him.
‘Has he remembered? Raff, I mean.’
‘No, not yet.’
‘Well, tell him, and the sooner the better in my opinion. The longer you leave it, the harder it will be.’
Jessie knew it. The trouble was, that fact did not make disclosure any easier at the present moment. She would wait until they were at Ashbourne and he had recovered more of his strength. She would also wait until they were able to speak alone. Then she would pretend that she still intended to marry Henry. That way, Raff would not feel obliged to remain married to her from any misplaced notion of chivalry.
They were obliged to take the journey very slowly, in order not to jolt his lordship, so they spent two extra nights on the road. When they arrived at an inn, Pointer, assisted by Lord Ilam, took Lord Ashbourne to his room to rest. Later, the party would meet for dinner, which the earl always insisted on attending, even though he looked exceedingly tired and drawn. Afterwards, he would retire immediately.
During the journey, Jessie shared a room with Lady Agatha, whilst Lord and Lady Ilam had another room and Ashbourne and Pointer a third. These wayside stops provided an exquisite form of torture for Jessie. During the day, closeted with Ashbourne and uninterrupted save for Pointer’s unobtrusive presence, she was able to pretend that the marriage ceremony which they had gone through had actually meant something. She talked to the earl, made him laugh at some of Mrs Machin’s exploits, read to him, played chess with him, and managed to forget about the other travellers, and her position with regard to the whole party. Once they had stopped for the night, she remembered that she was just Lady Agatha’s companion, unsought and now ruined, and that the man she loved was himself enamoured of Lady Gilchrist.
‘For how long have you been living with my sister? Nine years? Ten?’ he asked her one day when he had woken from a short nap and she had laid down her book.
Taking his cue, Jessie told him a little about Lady Agatha. She made him laugh by telling him about the lengths to which her ladyship had gone to keep the vicarage of Illingham for her own use long after she should have moved out.
‘You make me sorry I don’t know her better,’ he remarked. ‘We’ve never been close, and I don’t suppose we ever will be.’
‘Why was that?’ Jessie asked curiously, then blushed because she had been rather impertinent. ‘I beg your pardon,’ she went on in a mortified tone. ‘You’ll say, and rightly, that it is none of my business.’
He shook his head. ‘It’s not a secret,’ he told her. ‘My father never encouraged closeness between us, and with eight years separating us – although Agatha would hate to hear me say so – we spent very little time together. As soon as I was old enough to understand that I even had a sister, she had been sent away to school. Then I went to school myself. Our lives ended up having very little in common. The one time we did spend any time together socially, the whole business ended disastrously.’
‘Can I guess? Might it have been when you were in Bath in pursuit of Lady Hope?’
‘How acute of you,’ he replied, grinning derisively. ‘Yes, it was my first truly determined pursuit of a female. I was less than twenty and must have been utterly tiresome. Agatha dressed me down quite publicly and it took me a long time to forgive her. By the time I had done so, she had ruined her prospects by her public championing of an actress, and wanted nothing to do with me.’
‘How sad for you both,’ Jessie murmured.
From his side of the carriage, Ashbourne observed her and thought how much a thoughtful expression became her. He was finding a pleasure in her company that seemed to increase with every day that they spent together. He discovered that she was an intelligent woman with a sense of humour,
a pretty laugh which made her eyes light up and revealed the graceful shape of her mouth which he had remembered was rather kissable. The problem was that she was not his to kiss. Since Jessie had not told him otherwise, he thought that she was still engaged to Henry Lusty. When he thought about the matter, he was gnawed by jealousy. It was an unfamiliar and very unwelcome sensation.
Ashbourne Abbey was an imposing pile, sharing one wall with a ruined Cistercian monastery, after which it got its name. Jessie had only visited it once or twice, and had found it rather gloomy. It always seemed to her, however, that the house itself wanted to be happy; it was the occupants who had made it a depressing place, chiefly because of the poor relationships that always existed between fathers and sons. Glancing at Ilam’s rigid countenance as he helped his father into the house, Jessie gave a sigh. It seemed as if things would be no better with this present generation.
‘What a gloomy house, my love,’ Lady Ilam said to her husband, when they had retired for the night.
‘Yes, I’ve always found it so,’ he agreed, as he brushed her hair. Eustacia’s maid, Trixie, and Ilam’s valet, Sanders, had both been sent to their own beds.
‘And yet I feel that the laughter of children and a happy family could transform this place.’
‘I hope you are not thinking of our children,’ said his lordship.
‘No, ours of course will be brought up at Illingham,’ she assured him. ‘Actually, I was thinking of your father and Jessie.’
‘Eustacia, my love, you are talking nonsense,’ he told her, pulling her to her feet and into his arms. ‘Jessie has been in love with my father for years, but he has never taken any notice of her. Actually, to give the devil his due,’ he went on grudgingly, ‘he has never encouraged her.’
‘No, but I have been watching him and I think that he has changed.’
His face hardened. ‘By God, if he does play with her feelings, I’ll kill him myself,’ he said savagely, releasing her and turning away. ‘I know what he can do, believe me.’ In his mind he went back over five years. A girl with whom he had thought he was in love had come with her parents to stay at the abbey. It had turned out that she was really infatuated with Ashbourne, and she had been discovered in his bed. Gabriel had turned his back on Ashbourne, the man and the abbey, from that moment on.
