15: The Secret Arbour
As soon as he could escape from Edgerton and Willerton-Forbes, Laurence resolved to determine his fate at once, whether he was to be permitted to continue as Louisa’s friend or whether he had sunk to the level of mere acquaintance or would be ostracised entirely. He would go directly to the Dower House, but just in case she should refuse to admit him, he summoned the dogs from their resting place by the fire so that he could pretend he was merely out for a walk. If nothing else, he could collect his greatcoat.
William answered his knock and immediately opened the door wide. The dogs bounced inside, but Laurence could not presume so far.
“Tell Mrs Middlehope that Mr Gage is here, and ask her whether she is at home this morning.”
William looked puzzled. “She’s in the study, sir. Oh! At home…”
But before he could ask, the dogs had found the open door to the study, and there was laughter and teasing admonishments, followed by Louisa’s head peering out.
“Mr Gage? Do come inside. I am delighted to see the dogs, but they are not your equal where conversation is concerned.”
And he found himself ushered inside without the slightest hint of reserve on her part. He had not been fully aware of the leaden lump of fear in his belly until he found it dissolving in relief. They were to be friends again! Only at that moment did he understand just how important that was to him.
There was chatter about the dogs while she dispatched William to see about some cakes and poured Madeira for them both, but when they had taken their usual chairs by the fire, she laughed without a trace of self-consciousness and said, “You are still speaking to me, then? I am so glad. I feared it would be otherwise after I disgraced myself last night.” And then, before he could say a word, she went on, “I parcelled up your greatcoat and sent it over to the Grove, with an abject little note describing William’s deficiencies as a footman in omitting to return it as you left, and not a word about the time of this dreadful event. I hope I did right, and you did not wish me to burn the evidence.”
That made him laugh, too, and he found it easy enough to turn the subject to the new discoveries of the body in the wine cellar, which she heard with a strong degree of interest, although their conversation was somewhat disrupted by the younger dogs snuffling about the room and refusing to settle in front of the fire.
“Do you know, I feel these fellows would be happier in the garden,” she said cheerfully. “Shall we take a walk?”
He assented and, rather to his surprise, she led him down the service stairs and out by the side door, taking a cloak and bonnet from a peg. “I have no patience for waiting while my maid runs up and down stairs to fetch this or that,” she said. “I hope you do not object to the informality.”
“I keep my gamekeeper’s outfit in the boot room for convenience,” he said. “It is much the same thing.”
“There was a garden room at Roseacre for the purpose,” she said. “Let us go this way first.”
She plunged into dense shrubbery, the overgrown bushes towering above their heads. The dogs raced about eagerly, even Ian showing some liveliness at the unfamiliar surroundings.
“Poor Miss Labett,” Louisa said as they walked. “So optimistic, with her fancy clothes and her lover, yet all her dreams ended in my basement. Did she walk in of her own free will or was she reluctant to come here, enticed perhaps by her lover? Did he intend to kill her all along or was he goaded into it? Either way, he must have been utterly heartless.”
“Or desperate,” he said. They crossed the front drive and entered the orchard, the trees covered in fat, pink buds. A bird shot up from the long grass and the two younger dogs flew off in pursuit.
“What would make a man desperate enough to kill?” she said, frowning. “One must have a reason to kill someone — either to gain something that would be otherwise unattainable, or to prevent something. In this case, I cannot see how the situation would arise. Her lover must have known the likely consequences of his actions, and should have been prepared for them. He could not have been taken by surprise, so what would make him desperate?”
“That is all very reasonable,” Laurence said, smiling wryly, “but men — especially young men — do not always follow the dictates of reason. They seldom consider the consequences of their actions and are quite astonished when matters turn out exactly as any sensible person would have predicted. Let us suppose that there was affection between the lovers, but she is a governess and he is… we cannot guess, but he may be married or otherwise not in a position to marry her. His father may disapprove, perhaps, or he cannot afford a wife. What is he to do? He fears discovery so much that murder seems the lesser evil.”
“It is still difficult to envisage any situation where murder is a sensible option,” she said dubiously.
They had by this time left the orchard behind and passed into the formal gardens that surrounded the house, with the stables and kitchen garden on the other side of them. They looked in on Gaius Valerius, who condescended to have his nose stroked, and after that they walked on in silence for a while, the dogs racing about happily. It was very comfortable, he found, to simply stroll about the garden, past the circular pool with a wide rim just right for sitting and trailing a hand through the water, and then past a statue of some indeterminate goddess and on to a path which meandered along the perimeter wall. Eventually, they came back into the shrubbery again and an elegant little stone arbour hedged about with high shrubs, their heavy buds already tinged pink.
“This is my secret arbour,” she said, stopping and turning to him. “There is another one that is visible from the house but this one is secluded. Just right for confessions, do you not agree? Shall we sit for a while?”
He agreed to it, although warily, not knowing quite what sort of confession she had in mind. A repetition of last night’s dalliance would undo him completely, so he waited until she had settled herself at one end of the arbour, then sat what he felt was a safe distance away.
“There is something I should like to say, Mr Gage,” she said, “and I shall only say it once and then we need never speak of this matter again. I apologise unreservedly for my behaviour last night. I misread you utterly, and am now totally ashamed of myself. You have been so gracious as not to berate me in the slightest, and for your forbearance, my gratitude is heartfelt. Let us pretend it never happened, it will certainly never happen again and thus we may, I sincerely hope, go on as before. And now, we may talk about the weather. It is unseasonably mild for early April, is it not? But I fear we may yet have frost before the month is out.”
He smiled, but he was not yet ready to talk about the weather. The two younger dogs were away in the undergrowth somewhere, and there was a lot of undergrowth to explore in this long-neglected garden, but Ian had settled beside Louisa, and was blissfully having his ears rubbed. Dogs understood much more than humankind, in many ways. They certainly knew whom to trust, and the dogs felt comfortable with her, just as Laurence did. She was his good friend, and he wanted no misunderstandings between them.
“I must apologise, too,” he began tentatively.
“Whatever for?” she said, turning surprised eyes on him. “You did nothing wrong.”
“Indeed I did, in running away so intemperately, without a word of explanation.”
“There was none needed, I assure you.” She looked amused. “Naturally you were very shocked by my wantonness.”
“No… well, yes, I was shocked, but not by any action of yours. You were entirely honest and that cannot be wrong, but if there is blame to be attached, then it must be apportioned equally. My behaviour has been such that you must have imagined me to be hoping for exactly what you proposed. My actions seemed harmless to me at the time, for what could be more innocuous than for two friends, a widow and a widower, neither seeking matrimony again, to fall into a comfortable companionship? I see now that I was far too presumptuous. I imagined myself to be too old and dull ever to be propositioned in that way.
I also imagined that I was too old and dull ever to be tempted by such a proposition. On both counts I was wrong, and that shocked me to my core, Mrs Middlehope.” He scratched his nose thoughtfully. “Not that I would ever succumb to the temptation, for I would not so dishonour my dear wife’s memory, and besides, it would destroy all my sister’s comfort were she to learn of it, but please do not imagine my refusal to be any reflection on your own…” He scrabbled for a suitable word. “…attractions,” he ended lamely.
When he dared to look at her, he saw a face brimming with merriment. “Mr Gage, you are a never-ending source of delight to me! What a pretty speech, considering the unpromising subject matter. I cannot now regret last night in the slightest, when it leads to such agreeable revelations after the event. You were actually flattered by my unladylike suggestion, and tempted, and not in the least angry, by the sound of it.”
“Lord, no! Not angry, except with myself for leading you to believe such a thing was possible. But you must see that I could never do anything which would so distress Viola.”
“How would she ever know?” Louisa said.
“These things always get about,” he said sombrely. “The servants would know, and that means everyone would know, and Vi’s position would be intolerable. She is very upright, and would feel obliged to leave at once.”
Louisa looked thoughtful. “That is a consideration which, I confess, had not occurred to me. When I planned this—”
“You planned it?” He remembered then that she had mentioned a ‘project’ as a reason for removing to Great Maeswood. “You came here with just such a scheme in mind, then.”
“I did, and it seemed to me that every detail had been thought of, but there! That is my weakness, never to grasp the full implications of my actions. I was always in trouble as a child, you see, for some such start. Like the time when there was some panic in the kitchen over the soufflés — they had been spoilt, somehow, and no one had time to get more eggs, so I thought I would help. I gathered all the eggs I could find, but I had neglected to take a basket and had to try to hold them in my apron. Have you any idea how hard it is to keep hold of an apron full of eggs when one is only six years old? Well, let us merely say that there were no soufflés that day. And another time I set off to pick blackberries and got lost and was out all night, with everyone for miles around out searching for me. I am not very good at anticipating all the consequences of my actions, you see, and so it is here. I thought very carefully about the effects on myself, choosing an out-of-the-way village where I am unknown, not venturing beyond the immediate locality and taking on local staff who can be discarded whenever I leave, so that any adverse effects on my reputation will be left behind too. It had not occurred to me until this moment that the other party to my little scheme will be resident here and not able to pack up and leave at the drop of a handkerchief. Even if he has no sister to concern him, he himself must endure some damage to his position in society.”
“A man’s reputation is less fragile in that regard than a lady’s,” Laurence said, rather amused. “He will be thought a devil of a fellow, and there are some men who would spread the story themselves in order to bask in the envy of their fellows.”
She nodded, her expression serious, but her eyes gleamed with amusement.
“There are other kinds of damage which a man might suffer,” he went on. “He might, for instance, fall head over heels in love with you and think of the inconvenience! Your secret lover, whom you expect to show positive indifference towards you in public, mooning about after you like the very worst kind of pathetic fool. How annoying that would be.”
“Ah, but that was all considered most carefully,” she said triumphantly. “I discounted at once the young, single men who might be supposed to be heart-free and therefore vulnerable to the pangs of unrequited love. I also discounted the married men, for nothing could be more disagreeable than a jealous wife. But this is where my choice was so cunning, for what could be better for my purposes than a widower who is still deep in love with his wife? You were perfect, Mr Gage, quite perfect.”
He laughed out loud at that. “But what of you, Mrs Middlehope? Are you not also vulnerable to the pangs of unrequited love?”
“My heart is made of stone, Mr Gage. Cupid’s aim is very poor where I am concerned for I have never yet felt the sting of his arrows.”
“Is that why you felt the desire to take a lover?” he said, wondering, as he had a dozen times already, whether he stepped too far.
But she answered him readily enough, although the answer was the last he had expected. “No, it was because my husband told me to.” He must have looked astonished, for she laughed and went on, “Incredible, is it not? Yet it is so. He urged me to do so even while we were married, for latterly he was ailing and felt the difference in our ages most acutely. For the last few years, he was the wrong side of sixty and I was below thirty, and it preyed on his mind dreadfully. He said that he had kept me locked away at Roseacre and he wanted me to glory in the great joys of life before I was too old to appreciate them. I was not in the least tempted while he was alive, but once he was dead, the idea took hold of me and would not let go. There are advantages to being barren, you see, and I knew I had to leave Roseacre once my mourning was over, so I began to think — why not? Now I am thwarted at the first attempt, and left uncertain how to proceed. There is no other candidate who quite fulfils all my necessary criteria, you see.” He was absurdly pleased by this odd sort of compliment, until she went on, “Perhaps Mr Truman might do?”
“Mr Truman?” he said, horrified. “No, no! You must have nothing to do with Truman. He would not do at all.” He could only hope she would not enquire as to precisely why he would not do, for he was not sure he could compose any coherent reasons at that moment. He only knew that she must not take Truman as her lover. “Have you considered, Mrs Middlehope, all the difficulties of conducting such a clandestine affair at all? How would you meet, for instance?”
“At night, obviously.”
“Then how is he to gain access to your bedchamber? Will he simply walk in through the front door? A back door conveniently left unlocked? Must he climb the drainpipe to reach your window, because I must tell you honestly that such a feat would deter all but the most agile and determined of lovers. Or will you conduct your meetings in broad daylight, instructing your manservant that you are not at home to other callers?”
She frowned. “I confess, I had not thought about the matter quite so… so practically. You are entirely right, it is very awkward, and also… somewhat sordid. As for drainpipes — no, I cannot expect that of any man, and I certainly do not see the immaculate Mr Truman soiling his pristine garments in such a way. I can see that my nature is not such that subterfuge comes naturally to me. Now, at Roseacre we had a small fishing shelter beside the lower lake that would have been perfect for an assignation.”
“If one could be sure of no interruptions,” Laurence said.
“Oh, indeed, how awkward that would be! Also, it was quite five miles from the nearest road and would require a putative lover to leave his horse there — with his groom, no doubt — climb a twelve-foot wall and then walk to the shelter, taking care not to get lost, and to avoid falling in the lake, if it should happen to be dark. Not that I have any structure of the type here, for these little arbours are hardly suitable, especially in winter. One would need a brazier or some such, and fuel for it, and then the servants would be involved. What else is possible? One could not rent a cottage for the purpose without awkward questions, nor could one arrange to meet at an inn, for inn servants are the worst kind of gossips. I begin to wonder if it is possible to overcome these difficulties at all. The whole business sounds most disagreeable, now that I consider it sensibly. Regretfully, I believe my project will have to be abandoned. What a useful friend you are, Mr Gage, to so effectively turn me away from my purpose, and rescue me from sin.”
He demurred, of course, protesting that she would have come to the
same conclusion by herself, in time, but nevertheless he felt rather smug at his success in deterring her from approaching Truman. He would not have had Laurence’s scruples, he was sure, for all he was a clergyman, and probably he would have found some easy way to manage the business, without shinning up drainpipes. He was a resourceful young man who had all the young ladies sighing over him, and Laurence was rather pleased that Louisa was not amongst their number.
She was Laurence’s friend, not Truman’s, and the thought gave him a warm glow of satisfaction.
16: Of Sermons And Friends
‘The Dower House, Great Maeswood, Salop. 4th April. My dear Esther, What a week I have had! Pamela and her father, Mr Pritchard, arrived last Friday with all my things, at least not quite all, for there was only one box of books, and now that I have begun to investigate the box, I discover that half of them are not mine at all, but must go back to Roseacre. Also, Pamela brought the clavichord instead of the pianoforte, for they are both Broadwoods and she could not imagine there was much difference. To my astonishment, she also brought Gaius Valerius, and insists that I must have him, for he was sent on Thomas’s explicit instructions. She very generously left his groom here, too, so for this kindness I am very grateful. I have been inclined to fear that Thomas paid too much heed on occasion to his wife’s wishes and indulged her beyond what was reasonable, but when he decides on a course of action and deems it proper, he will not be deterred. At such times, I see something of his father’s strength of character in him. Pamela left on Tuesday, taking the clavichord with her and also my good, plain cook, Mrs Nokes. Seemingly that lady has a way with gruel that is beneficial to Mr Pritchard’s digestive issues, and in return for depriving me of my cook, Pamela is to send me Chambers, the Roseacre man-cook, whose fancy French sauces are not to her liking. The most delightful part of it is that we both consider that we have the better of the deal, and I am so happy at the prospect of once again enjoying quail in a cockscomb and mushroom sauce and pigeon in crayfish butter that I bear the interlude without a cook of any description with tolerable composure. In other matters, I have had a lengthy and open exchange of views with the neighbour of whom I told you on my project to extend my boundaries, and have reluctantly been forced to abandon it as unworkable. I do not intend to attempt anything so ambitious in future, but shall be content to remain within the regular boundaries. Yours, hungry and much chastened, Louisa.’
Stranger at the Dower House (Strangers Book 1) Page 16
