Rags-to-Riches Bride

by Mary Nichols

  ‘It will kill you.’

  ‘Then I will die happy.’

  Diana was beginning to feel uncomfortable; she did not want to be a witness to a family argument, and she did have work to do. She stood up to leave, just as Stephen joined them. ‘Good, there’s tea,’ he said.

  Diana fetched another cup and saucer from the cupboard and poured tea for him.

  ‘Great-Grandmama, will you ask Miss Bywater to your party?’ he asked, making Diana gasp.

  ‘Of course. The young lady will be welcome.’

  ‘You knew about it?’ his father asked him.

  ‘Great-Grandmama told me when she arrived. I am looking forward to it.’

  ‘And who is going to look after the shop if we all dash off to Borstead Hall?’ John demanded. ‘Miss Bywater has to work on Saturdays and so do you.’

  ‘On this occasion, I expect you to make an exception.’ This from Lady Harecroft.

  ‘Oh, no,’ Diana put in. ‘You must not do that. It would set a bad example.’

  ‘Do not tell me what I must not do, girl,’ her ladyship snapped.

  Diana blushed furiously. ‘I beg your pardon. I did not mean to be rude.’

  ‘Do you not care to come?’ Stephen asked, aggrieved. ‘I am sure you will enjoy it.’

  ‘I am sure I would, but I cannot leave my father while I go into the country.’

  ‘Bring him too,’ her ladyship said. ‘It is time we all met him.’

  ‘I am afraid he is not well enough, my lady.’ Diana was beginning to panic. Her father was not yet stable enough to pay calls, and a party where there was bound to be wine and punch might set him off again. Flattered as she was to be asked, and much as she would have liked a break from routine, to dress up, live in a little splendour and pretend that her life had never had that treacherous downhill slide, she could not risk it.

  ‘Miss Bywater’s father is an invalid,’ John said. ‘She explained about that when she first came to us.’

  ‘So she did. But no matter, we can arrange for him to be looked after for a day or two. Problems like that are not insurmountable.’

  ‘I am sure he would not agree,’ Diana said. The old lady’s family might defer to her, but on this matter she was going to find herself thwarted. She would not subject her father to the indignity of being looked after, as if he were a child packed off to the nursery when his presence became inconvenient. And she did not know why Stephen was so anxious she should be one of the party.

  ‘I think you must allow Miss Bywater to decline without bullying her, Grandmother,’ John said. ‘And you know, we are very busy and it is not altogether convenient for me to drop everything to take you home when you arrive unexpectedly.’

  ‘You don’t need to.’ Her voice held a note of asperity. ‘Richard brought me. He has gone to the House of Commons and then he is coming back for me.’

  ‘House of Commons?’ Mr Harecroft senior demanded. ‘Since when has he interested himself in politics?’

  ‘You must ask him that. I am not his keeper.’

  Diana had been inching her way towards the door in order to escape and was reaching for its handle when it was opened and she found herself half-hidden behind it, sucking a little finger that had been caught in the handle.

  The newcomer turned to shut the door and saw her. ‘I beg pardon, I did not see you hiding there.’

  She met his blue-eyed gaze and something inside her turned a somersault. He was a much bigger version of Stephen; he was taller, his shoulders broader, the red-gold of his hair more pronounced—a characteristic she concluded all the family had to a greater or lesser degree—his eyes were bluer and his mouth fuller. She realised with a little stab of guilt that he made his brother look drab and colourless, particularly as in contrast to Stephen’s grey suit, he was wearing a brown frock coat, light brown trousers and a pale fawn cravat. It was not only his size and his clothes, his presence dominated the room. He exuded power and self-assurance. She could easily imagine him as a serving officer, in full command of his men. ‘I was not hiding, I was about to leave,’ she said, finding her voice at last.

  ‘Oh, please do not leave on my account.’ He stopped suddenly, unable to take his eyes from her face. She seemed so familiar he felt he ought to know her. She was plainly dressed and wore an unbecoming cap that hid most of her hair, but her complexion was flawless and her eyes reminded him of the plumage of a dove, a soft blue-grey. Her lips were pink and firm and at that moment were sucking a little finger; it was an incredibly sensuous act, made more so because she appeared totally unaware of the effect she was having. ‘Does it hurt?’

  She took it from her mouth to answer him. ‘No, it is nothing.’

  ‘Richard, may I present Miss Diana Bywater,’ Stephen said, stepping between them. ‘Miss Bywater, my brother, Richard.’

  ‘How do you do?’ he said, wondering why Stephen found it necessary to introduce someone who was so obviously a servant. It did not bother him, but his family were sticklers for form.

  She bowed her head. ‘Mr Harecroft.’

  He nodded towards the table where the teapot and the used cups and saucers were evidence of the refreshment they had been enjoying before he arrived. ‘Are you going to pour me a cup of tea?’

  ‘I am afraid it must be cold by now. I will make a fresh pot if you like.’

  ‘Miss Bywater, you have those accounts to complete before the end of the working day,’ John reminded her.

  ‘Accounts?’ Richard queried. ‘Oh, you must be the young lady who had the temerity to apply for a man’s job. I heard all about it from Great-Grandmother.’

  She smiled. ‘Yes, though why it should be called a man’s job I do not know. It is mental work and does not require strength. I do exactly the same work as the gentlemen clerks without concessions to my gender. Now, please excuse me, I must return to it. Good afternoon, Lady Harecroft.’ She turned to go and Stephen sprang to open the door for her.

  She thanked him and escaped to the sanctuary of her own room. Arriving breathless, she shut the door behind her and stood leaning against it. The encounter with the elder of the two brothers had shaken her. She did not know what she had expected, but she felt she had been buffeted by a whirlwind, and all in the space of a few fleeting minutes.

  She crossed to the window just in time to see her ladyship being handed into her carriage by Richard. He was taking enormous trouble to make sure she was comfortable before getting in himself. She watched as the carriage made its way down the busy street and disappeared round the corner, before returning to the ledger she had left an hour before.

  It was difficult to concentrate. Quite apart from that strange encounter with Mr Richard Harecroft, the invitation to the party, the assumption that she would foist the care of her father on to someone else in order to enjoy herself with a group of people who were materially and socially way above her, vexed her. She cared too much for her father to do that to him. She would have to be firm, but would that cost her her job? She could not afford to lose it, for where else could she find something so congenial and so well paid? Without her wages, she and her father would sink even lower in the social scale.

  Stephen came into the room and sat on the corner of the table at which she worked. ‘Do not let my brother upset you, Miss Bywater.’

  ‘He did not upset me, whatever gave you that idea?’

  ‘Good. Every family is supposed to have a black sheep and I suppose he is ours.’

  ‘He did not look like a sheep to me.’

  ‘No, perhaps I should have said wolf.’

  ‘Not that either,’ she said, though when she remembered those blue eyes almost devouring her, she did wonder. ‘More like a lion with that mane of golden hair.’

  ‘Hmm.’ He seemed to consider this and then dismissed the idea. ‘Whichever it is, we do not need to see much of him at Borstead Hall. He lives in the dower house.’

  ‘He lives with your great-grandmother?’

  ‘No, Great-Grandmama li
ves with my grandfather in the big house. He says she is too old to live by herself and he needs to keep an eye on her, so she told Richard he could use the dower house. He shares it with a couple of penniless artists and his mi—’ He stopped suddenly, his voice so twisted with bitterness, she looked at him sharply, but he quickly recovered himself. ‘I do not suppose we shall see anything of them.’

  She wondered what he had been about to let slip; it sounded as if he were going to say mistress, but surely his brother would not live with such a one so close to the family home? ‘What does your great-grandmother think of his friends?’

  ‘Oh, she does not mind them. She has a soft spot for Richard.’

  ‘He seems very fond of her.’

  ‘Yes, she is the only one who can get Richard to do what she wants.’

  She realised suddenly that he was jealous of his brother, even though he enjoyed more of his father’s favour. It was all to do with the old lady. ‘I wish you had not asked her ladyship to invite me to her party,’ she said.

  ‘Why not? We will have a splendid time.’

  ‘We will not, because I cannot accept the invitation.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘I have to work. And I cannot leave my father.’

  ‘He is an invalid, isn’t he? I did not know that until you mentioned it today. Are you always so secretive?’

  ‘I am not secretive,’ she said, feeling the colour rising in her face. ‘Your father and great-grandmother knew and there has been no reason why I should make a point of telling you. It did not come out in the course of conversation, that’s all.’

  ‘What is the matter with him?’

  She took a deep breath. ‘He was invalided out of the navy five years ago when he lost his arm and then my mother died and his nerves have been badly affected.’ It was not really a lie, she told herself, just not the whole truth.

  ‘Father can hire a nurse in for him or arrange for him to go into a comfortable nursing home so that he is looked after. If he does, you will come, won’t you?’

  ‘I do not think so. I cannot put Mr Harecroft to the trouble and it upsets Papa if his normal routine is changed.’

  ‘You are just making excuses. You heard my great-grandmother say she expected us all to go and my father will not go against her. The Dowager Lady Harecroft angry is an awesome sight, I can tell you.’

  ‘I do not see why she should be angry with me. I am not family.’

  ‘I am hoping that in the fullness of time you will be.’

  She looked up from the ledger on the desk and stared at him. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I had intended to give you time to get to know me properly before proposing, but Great-Grandmama has precipitated it. But surely you guessed?’

  ‘No.’ She felt as though she was being carried along, tossed about like a leaf on the wind, as if she had no will of her own and it annoyed her.

  He left the desk, walked round behind her and took the pen from her nerveless fingers, laid it down and clasped her hand in both his own. ‘Miss Bywater—Diana—would you consider a proposal of marriage from me?’

  It was a very roundabout way of asking her, she thought, almost as if he were not altogether sure that was what he wanted. He had said nothing of his feelings towards her. Did he love her or was he simply looking for a helpmate in the business? Did she love him? He had not even asked that crucial question. If he had done so, she would not have been able to answer it. But it did not matter; she could not, would not, leave her father and she could not see the Harecroft family taking him to their collective bosom.

  ‘Mr Harecroft,’ she said, ‘I am an employee, I need my job and you are putting me in a difficult position.’

  ‘I do not see why. If you accept me, then you need work no longer, or only as long as you wish to. You have fitted into the business very well—in fact, I sometimes think you know more about it than I do—and fitting into Harecroft’s is more than half the battle.’

  ‘I do not want a battle, Mr Harecroft, I want to be left alone to do my job. And now, if you please, I must get on with it. I am lagging behind today.’

  He let go of her hand and straightened up. ‘Very well, but I shall ask you again, perhaps at Great-Grandmother’s party. Yes, on reflection, that will be the ideal time. I will say no more until then.’

  ‘I have said I cannot go.’

  ‘Oh, you will,’ he said with infuriating confidence. ‘The Dowager Lady Harecroft will brook no refusal.’

  Before she could reply, he was gone and she was left staring down at a column of figures that seemed to dance about on the page so that it took her three attempts to total them correctly.

  Chapter Two

  ‘Well, what do you think of Miss Bywater?’ her ladyship asked Richard as their driver negotiated the traffic in Bond Street.

  ‘Should I be thinking of her?’ he asked mildly.

  ‘I am intrigued by her,’ the old lady went on. ‘Her situation is strange. She is educated, well spoken, deferential and neat in her appearance, but there is something secretive about her and I should like to know what it is.’

  ‘I cannot tell you.’

  ‘I wonder if it has anything to do with her father,’ she went on as if he had not spoken. ‘She says he is an invalid and is very protective of him. It is because of him she needs to work.’

  ‘But if she does her work well, is her private life any of our business?’

  ‘It is if Stephen wants to marry her.’

  ‘Good Lord! Does he?’

  ‘I think so. He asked me to invite her to my party.’

  ‘And did you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And what did she say?’

  ‘She protested she could not leave her father and when I said bring him too, she began to make all manner of excuses.’

  ‘Then perhaps you should leave well alone.’

  ‘I do not want to. I need to know more. You could help me. Find a way of meeting her father, talk to him, discover all you can about his antecedents. I want to know about his family and his childhood, where he spent it, where he was educated, what happened to his parents, his mother’s maiden name. If either had any siblings, if Miss Bywater has brothers and sisters.’

  ‘To what end? To find out if Miss Bywater is a suitable person to marry Stephen?’

  ‘If you like.’

  ‘Then ask Stephen to do it. He is the one who will have to decide.’

  ‘Stephen does not have your finesse, Richard. He might alienate the man and that is the last thing I want.’

  ‘And is Miss Bywater to know of this inquisition?’

  ‘I would rather she did not. Not yet.’

  ‘Great-Grandmama, I cannot approve.’

  ‘’isn’t for you to approve or disapprove. Just do as you are told. Be easy, I bear the child no ill will, but I need to be sure.’

  ‘Is there something you are not telling me? I am very busy, Great-Grandmama, and acting the spy is not to my taste…’

  She looked sharply at him. ‘Busy doing what?’

  He smiled wryly. Why did everyone assume that just because he was not seen to go to work like his father and brother, that he was idle? Six years in the army had taught him many things. Serving with men from all walks of life had opened his eyes to his privileged position. Rubbing shoulders with the educated and the abysmally ignorant, those who knew no other life than soldiering and those who had enlisted as a matter of patriotism or because they were out of work or needed to escape the law, had taught him to judge a man on his merits, irrespective of his position in what his parents chose to call society. Unlike most of his fellow officers, who would not have dreamed of associating with the men under their command, he had taken the trouble to find out about their homes and their families. And what he had learned had horrified him and made him determined to do something about it.

  He soon realised his attempts to help the poor and lame were too piecemeal: a good deed here, a generous donation there; taki
ng poor artists into his home and providing them with pleasant conditions in which to work; writing articles that the more die-hard newspaper proprietors refused to publish, so they found their way into the more radical publications, which were frequently being shut down by the government on the grounds that they were seditious and encouraged unrest. He risked imprisonment himself every time he fired a broadside at those who ought to have been helping and did nothing. He had come to the conclusion that it would be better to work within the establishment. Hence his visit to the Commons.

  The old lady tapped his arm with her fan. ‘Well? Will you do this for me?’

  He had always found it difficult to deny her anything, but on this occasion he was adamant. ‘No, ma’am, I will not. It is an infringement of the young lady’s privacy unless you have reason to believe she is up to no good.’ He paused to study her lined face. ‘Do you?’

  ‘That’s what I want to find out. If you will not oblige me, I must find other ways of discovering what I want to know.’

  ‘And what happens if you find out she is not all she seems—what then? Will you expose her?’

  ‘I do not know; it depends on what turns up.’

  He knew her well enough to realise she was up to something and it was more than a desire to protect Stephen. Did she already know more than she was telling about Miss Diana Bywater? It intrigued him, but not enough to comply with her request.

  They turned into Grosvenor Square and drew up at the door of Harecroft House and he jumped down to lift her out of the carriage and help her into the house and up to her room. He had a feeling he had not heard the last of Miss Diana Bywater.

  Diana was still at work at eight o’clock, when Mr Harecroft came into the little cubby hole where she worked. ‘Still here, Miss Bywater?’

  ‘I have been trying to catch up on lost time.’

  He smiled. ‘Grandmother can be a little disruptive. But stop now. I have my tilbury outside. I will drive you home.’

  ‘Thank you, but that will not be necessary. I can easily walk.’