Stranger at the Dower House (Strangers Book 1)

by Mary Kingswood

  ~~~~~

  Louisa was returning from a ride one morning when she observed a carriage laden with luggage turning into the Dower House drive. She hastened her pace, leaving Spencer on his less powerful mount to follow in her wake. By the time she had reached the top of the drive, she knew exactly who was visiting.

  “Esther! How delightful! Do these boxes mean that I am to enjoy your company for more than a few hours? If so, I must advise against it, unless you wish to live on bread and cheese.”

  “But that is why I am come! Dr Deerham was horrified that you have no cook again, for your travails when you first arrived wrung his heart, I assure you. As soon as I read him your letter, he said, ‘My dear, you must go at once, and stay until the man-cook arrives, for Mrs Middlehope will be desolate without a good dinner every night.’ So here I am, and I shall soon get your kitchen ship-shape again, although I wondered a little that your neighbours are not rallying round as they did before. I hope you have not offended them.”

  “It would not concern me if I had,” Louisa said, amused. “They were a trifle over-zealous before. I prefer to be left to my own devices.”

  “Sometimes you can be too independent, Louisa. Oh, careful with that box, Beecham, it has all my spice jars in it.”

  “Good heavens, Esther, I do not expect you to cook for me,” Louisa said.

  “Now do not set yourself about, for there is nothing I like better, I assure you. What a splendid horse! I see now why you gave him a Roman name, for he is quite looking down his nose at me, I am certain. Good day to you, Spencer! What a long time since I have seen you! How are you?”

  “Very well, madam, thank you,” he said, as he helped Louisa to dismount.

  “Let us go inside,” Louisa said, deftly gathering up the train of her riding habit and ushering her friend up the steps, “and as soon as I have changed, I shall sit down and write a heartfelt letter of gratitude to Dr Deerham. How can he possibly spare you? Do you cook at home? Will he starve while you are here?”

  “No, no! I keep a perfectly good cook, but I love to dabble. If a dish is a success, I teach it to my cook, so my dear husband will never starve. He enjoys his food just as you do, so he— that one goes down to the kitchen, Beecham —he completely understands. I have brought a few bits and pieces with me, Louisa, for I am sure that Mrs Nokes never thought of truffles or quails’ eggs or rose water. I have turbot and oysters and sole, as well, but there was not much fish to be had at such short notice. Oh, this is going to be such fun! Off you go and change while I dig out my apron.”

  Within an hour, the kitchen was a hive of orderly activity, with a whole array of tempting dishes in the making, and Louisa had been chased out to ‘go and sit upstairs and receive callers, like the lady you are.’

  “Oh no, no callers, for today is Friday and I am only authorised to be at home to callers on Thursdays,” Louisa said primly.

  Esther burst out laughing. “Gracious, how fusty! But you will be very much in the way here, so go and read a book and drink wine, like a good girl.”

  That was not an order Louisa found possible to resist, so meekly she went away, poured herself a glass of Laurence’s excellent Canary and settled down with a book. Ten minutes later, the crunch of determined booted feet on the gravel heralded a caller, possibly two, undeterred by it being Friday. Miss Gage, she decided, probably with her faithful companion, Miss Beasley, come to find out who her visitor was, in case it should be another member of the peerage.

  The door knocker sounded, William answered it and a moment later his head appeared round the door. “Are you at home to Miss Gage and Miss Beasley, madam?”

  “I am, William. Please show them in, and then bring in some tea and cakes.”

  Miss Gage twittered about how she had thought Louisa looked a little peaky last night at the Beasleys’ card party and was come to enquire how she was. Miss Beasley clutched her reticule tightly, as always, and said nothing. Louisa wondered what it would take to enable the reticent Miss Beasley to uncurl herself and converse like a sensible woman.

  Smiling, Louisa said, “How kind you are, Miss Gage, but I am perfectly well, as you see. There will be tea here in a moment. Do sit down. Would you like a glass of Canary while you wait for the tea?”

  The ladies refused the Canary, and sat themselves on the chaise longue, Miss Gage rigidly upright, while Miss Beasley drooped ever so slightly.

  Louisa was not unkind enough to deprive them of the information they sought, so she said at once, “You find me just catching my breath after the arrival of my friend, Mrs Deerham, from Shrewsbury. She has visited before for a few hours, but this time I am to have the felicity of her company for several days. She is a great friend from my childhood in Hertfordshire.”

  “Deerham? Is that any connection to the famous Dr Joseph Deerham?” Miss Beasley said, suddenly taking an interest.

  The subject of Dr Deerham occupied them until the tea arrived, and not long after that Esther herself appeared, rather pink from the heat of the kitchen, and with a tiny smudge of flour on her cheek, to describe for herself the perfections of her pious husband. Louisa was very glad of her arrival, for pretending to admire Dr Deerham’s sermons was a great test of her acting ability, but she was very glad to have found a subject which animated the timid Miss Beasley.

  “Do come for dinner tonight,” Miss Beasley said, in a sudden burst of garrulousness. “My brother would be so pleased to meet you. We are such admirers of Dr Deerham, I cannot tell you. He is such a magnificent writer, is he not? We often read his sermons aloud to each other, to admire his splendid way with words, at least, it is usually Roland who reads them, for he makes the words resound about the room, somehow. Gentlemen are much better suited to such oratory, are they not? I should so like to hear Dr Deerham preach, but of course it is out of the question. We never get to Shrewsbury.” She sighed melodramatically. “But you will dine with us tonight, I hope?”

  Louisa glanced at Esther, but she was in a glow of happiness to hear her husband so praised, and was already smiling and expressing her thanks for the invitation. “We have no other engagement for tonight — do we, Louisa?” she said, her eyes pleading.

  “No, indeed, we are quite at leisure,” she murmured.

  Miss Beasley looked nervously at her friend. Miss Gage had her lips pursed in the manner that Louisa interpreted as disapproval. Was she annoyed because her mousy little friend had dared to speak out for herself? Poor Miss Beasley!

  When the two ladies had left, Louisa said, “Your first dinner to be set aside, perforce. The servants’ dinner will not stretch you.”

  “No, and I can leave Tilly and Leah to manage that. They are very good girls, hardworking and sensible,” Esther said. “In fact, I might ask Tilly to sweep out the attics, just to get the worst of the cobwebs out. Then we can start investigating those interesting boxes.”

  “They will be full of hooped gowns and cocked hats and vast amounts of yellowed lace, I daresay.”

  Esther laughed. “Very likely, but I should like to have a look anyway. Just imagine, they have been here for decades untouched and forgotten. What secrets we may find if we look!”

  “But not today, I hope. Shall we walk in the garden while the sun is shining? I do not want to share you with an endless stream of curious callers.”

  They collected bonnets, gloves and thick cloaks against the morning chill and set off on the same loop around the garden that Louisa had taken with Laurence, and inevitably they came in time to the secret arbour in the shrubbery where, without a word being spoken, they sat companionably. Louisa was very struck that, just as she felt completely at ease with Esther, so she had with Laurence, too. They were both her good friends and that pleased her.

  “So tell me about your project,” Esther said, leaning forward and lowering her voice, although there was no one to hear. “You were so cryptic in your letter! Did you ask him?”

  “I asked him, he fled from me in horror, and then returned the next day to rea
ssure me that he would have liked to, and it was no reflection on my seductive powers but he wished to remain faithful to his dead wife.” She gurgled with merriment. “Is that not charming? He is such a kind man, trying to spare my feelings, after I positively threw myself at his head. Such an absurdity!”

  “Gracious!” Esther said, eyes wide. “And he has not… cut you, or anything of the sort?”

  “Not a bit of it! We had a lovely long chat about it and parted on the best of terms.”

  “Truly? He must be a remarkable sort of man. I confess, one of the attractions of this visit is that I shall get to meet the interesting Mr Gage, if only at church. But tell me about the Beasleys, so I shall be prepared for this evening’s conversation.”

  “Dr Beasley is the physician who investigated my dead body, so unless you want all the gory details, try to avoid the subject. Otherwise, you will get a middling sort of dinner, with middling conversation and a middling game of whist afterwards.”

  Esther laughed. “Then I shall be a middling sort of guest.”

  A snuffling in the shrubbery heralded the arrival of a familiar muzzle, tongue lolling.

  “Well, Kenneth, how pleasant to see you again,” Louisa said. “Where are your comrades? Ah, good day to you, Julian, and I am sure Ian will not be far behind. I do believe you are about to meet my project, Esther.”

  And so it proved. They heard his voice calling the dogs from some distance away, and then the man himself appeared on the path, gun in hand and hung about with game bags. He stopped, his face breaking into a grin as he saw Louisa.

  “I must apologise for my dogs, Mrs Middlehope. They now regard your grounds quite as their own.”

  “And they are welcome to do so. Will you come and make the acquaintance of my friend?”

  “If I do not intrude…”

  “Not in the least. Esther, this is Mr Gage, my neighbour and fellow connoisseur of claret, brandy and port. Mr Gage, Mrs Deerham has come from Shrewsbury to lighten my solitude.”

  They exchanged greetings, and he carefully set down his gun and game bags and sat beside Esther. His easy manner soon had her speaking freely to him on the subject of Shrewsbury and her husband.

  “I have read his sermons, of course,” Laurence said. “Who has not? I do not always agree with his points but he makes them very powerfully. I heard him preach once, and regard it as one of the high points of my life.”

  Esther went pink with pleasure, and encouraged Laurence to talk about Dr Deerham to such good effect that he stayed for more than an hour. When he had finally left them, although with obvious reluctance, she said with shining eyes, “Such a charming man! You will be very happy with him, I am sure.”

  Louisa froze. “Whatever do you mean?”

  “Why, when you are married, my dear. You have an understanding, do you not?”

  “Not at all! What gave you that idea?”

  “Oh!” Esther’s face fell. “I thought… you said… I am sure that you said that after your… your discussion, that you parted on the best of terms. Did I mistake you?”

  “So we did, but as friends, and nothing more. Neither of us wants to marry again, Esther. He is still in love with his wife, and since he imagines her to be perfect in every way, there is no possibility of her ever relinquishing her hold on his heart. A living wife will grow old and fat and cross, or at least irritating, but a dead wife wraps herself in armour that can never be tarnished.”

  “And you?” Esther said timidly. “Surely you want to marry again, Louisa?”

  She shook her head.

  “Not yet, perhaps, but in the future?” Esther said. “Marriage is so fulfilling for a woman, do you not agree?”

  “It was not fulfilling for me,” Louisa said sombrely. “Oh, I was never discontented, and I accepted that I would never be a mother. One cannot rail at God’s will in these matters. I have no complaint to make, and I never regretted my choice, but my marriage left me feeling… incomplete, somehow. Hollow.”

  “That is surely the lack of children,” Esther said gently. “The emptiness of life without a child… I cannot imagine how difficult that must be.”

  “No, it was not that, for I felt it almost from the start, long before I knew I was barren. Ned was always kind to me, and I never, ever had the slightest cause for complaint, and his parents made me welcome, but… there was something missing. I cannot tell you what it was, some nameless thing, but I was aware of it. Lord, Esther, how maudlin I am getting, and I have not had a drop to drink, either. Shall we move on? The sun has shifted now and it is too cool to sit here in the shade.”

  They went inside, and had tea and some coconut buns that Leah Timpson had made. Esther wrote to Dr Deerham to tell him that she had arrived safely, and Louisa to thank him for sparing Esther to her, and they walked to the Boar’s Head to leave the letters for the mail collection. By the time they returned, it was time to change for dinner. The evening was exactly as Louisa had described — a middling sort of occasion, pleasant enough, apart from an excess of description from Dr Beasley on the subject of dead bodies, but Esther lapped it up, eyes wide.

  After dinner, Dr Beasley was inspired to read one of Dr Deerham’s sermons — “‘On Friendship’, my favourite,” Miss Beasley gushed — and for the first time, Louisa felt all the power of the author’s words. Dr Beasley struck an attitude, the book in his hand, and then recited as if it were Shakespeare. Indeed, it might as well have been, for the extent to which he held his audience spellbound. Esther and Miss Beasley listened avidly, speechless with admiration, and even Louisa, the most cynical of observers, could not deny that it was a stirring and uplifting speech. She could well imagine Dr Deerham orating the same words from the pulpit, and began to have some inkling of Esther’s admiration for such a man, and how such admiration might be the foundation for marriage.

  For herself, she could not marry a man merely because he was a rousing orator. Indeed, she could not think of any reason to marry, except for the most pragmatic of motives, for security and duty and a place to shelter. Now that she was financially independent, she need never marry again. She needed no man to protect her. No husband could fulfil her, and make her whole. Ever since she had left her father’s house, she had been aware of the emptiness within her. It had been her constant companion through twelve years of marriage, and the year of mourning. When she had arrived in Shropshire, it had been with her still.

  But now it was gone. Somehow, in some mysterious way, the Dower House and this tiny little village had filled the aching void within. How strange. How very, very strange.

  17: Luggage

  On Saturday, Louisa and Esther visited Miss Cokely, the milliner, to collect a bonnet Louisa had ordered. While Esther exclaimed over it and tried on a number of very fetching confections, entirely unsuitable for the wife of so sober a man as Dr Deerham, Louisa went to talk to Miss Cokely’s very elderly mother. Mrs Cokely was the widow of a former parson in the village, and on his death had moved with her daughter from the parsonage into a tiny cottage just across the road. On her first visit to the milliner’s shop, Miss Cokely had told her in a whisper that her mother had not been herself since Mr Cokely’s death.

  “She’s never been quite the same, Mrs Middlehope,” Miss Cokely had said. “Like a poor lost soul, she is. She sits in that front window all day, watching who goes by and noting every wagon and walker who passes. ‘The mail carrier is seven minutes late today,’ she’ll say. ‘Yesterday it was only two minutes late.’ That is how she goes on, but quite harmless. Wouldn’t hurt a fly. Ask her about things that happened forty years ago, and she’s perfectly sensible, remembers it all as clear as if it was yesterday, but as to what actually happened yesterday, well… you see how she is. Poor Mama! I keep my display of bonnets in the same room so that she gets a bit of company from time to time. Not that she’ll answer to the point if you ask her a question, but it would be a kindness if you were to pass the time of day with her.”

  Louisa sat on the chair conven
iently placed for visitors beside Mrs Cokely. “Good morning, Mrs Cokely. How are you today?”

  “Mr Exton went by at seven minutes past noon.” At her side was a small table with a clock and a notebook, and she tapped the clock with her pencil as she spoke the time.

  “Did he so? I have never met Mr Exton. What is he like?”

  “Mags passed here at eight minutes before noon.” Another tap.

  “Mags… from the Hall?”

  “Parson’s maid scrubbed the front steps of the parsonage from twenty minutes before noon until two minutes after.” Again a tap.

  It was very sad, for she seemed lucid enough, just somewhat disconnected from the world.

  Three of the Miss Saxbys arrived just at that moment, and in the flurry of greetings, Louisa found her arm being touched gently.

  “Miss Agnes?” she said, smiling at the girl’s anxious face.

  “I wondered… do you know anything very much about… about the gentlemen staying at the Grove? Miss Beasley knows very little about them, but they are friends of yours so—”

  “Not friends,” Louisa said quickly. “I heard of their exploits through my sister-in-law’s family, that is all.”

  “But you have talked to them… dined with them. Do you know if any of the gentlemen is married? I met them at church, but naturally one cannot ask directly.”

  “Oh.” Louisa tried not to smile at such a question. Poor Agnes! And she was not in the least abashed by her own forwardness. “Mr Willerton-Forbes is probably not a marrying man. Captain Edgerton mentioned a wife, I believe. As for Mr Chandry…”