Aloud, he said, ‘Yes, of course I should like to come. Nothing would keep me away, unless Adam has found another skeleton for me.’
They laughed together and then Lavinia called them in and greeted them with wine and little ratafia biscuits and made them so welcome that soon everyone was in the right mood for a delicious dinner. Lavinia had seated Matthew next to Charlotte and opposite Kitty and she and Jane were all set for a cose, as the young people chatted among themselves.
Just as the soup was being served, Adam Brown, bright-eyed and enthusiastic as usual, smiled round the table and said, ‘I am so sorry if I was a trifle late, Lavinia. But listen to this, Matthew, because after you left the office, I was able to collect together some papers for your perusal. I am not sure whether they will be of any practical use to us, but I think they might throw some light on the origin of the skeleton. You may be interested to read them.’
‘Yes, only later, Adam, after dinner,’ Lavinia said firmly, but Charlotte noticed that she gave him a most loving smile as she said it.
Everyone seemed in high humour, including Jane, in spite of having been so distracted with packing and complaints from servants. Charlotte was struck anew at the good humour and energy that her mama put into the most mundane and everyday activities and at how youthful and exuberant was her smile. Thinking back again to her encounter with Hugo Westbury, she felt faintly uneasy that she’d been so out of temper as to insist that her mother was a victim of the landlord’s oppression. But still, she thought, he is such an unpleasant man, it is only too easy to be out of sorts with such as he.
Neither Matthew nor Adam wished to linger over glasses of port once the ladies had left the dining-room and soon they were all of them settled in the drawing-room, agog to hear what Adam Brown had to say.
‘The first item I found in the strong box is a letter writ to my own papa, Edward Brown, nigh on sixty years since, when Sir Benjamin was about to set off for India. Read it to us, Matthew, if you please.’
Westbury Hall
Norfolk
My dear Mr Brown
I write in haste as I am to sail for India in the morning. Acting on your advice, 1 shall take no further interest in the actions of my brother George. He seems to be intent on self-destruction, via drink and gambling. Both he and my youngest brother, Charles, now seem to be at daggers drawn over Lady Mary Spence, a great beauty and from a noble family. God pity her. I believe she is a most amiable and pleasant young woman as well as lovely.
As for myself dear Edward, my trusted friend, I find myself pleased to be leaving England for foreign climes, where I shall have the comfort of action and a change of scene. I find I can no longer abide either London society or even the quiet of Norfolk. My desire is to put as much distance between myself and my brothers as possible. I hope I shall remain in touch with you and, meanwhile, believe me to be your friend and client,
Benjamin Westbury
There was a silence after Matthew had finished reading and finally Charlotte said, ‘It certainly lets us imagine the family tensions of sixty years ago, but it explains nothing of the dead body and the little child in the picture.’
‘And would not Sir Benjamin take exception to our having access to his correspondence with your father, Adam?’ Lavinia asked uneasily.
‘No, my dear,’ he said gently. ‘Sir Benjamin has instructed me to act in any way that I think fit and that could aid in the resolution of the mystery.’
‘But no one here could possibly have the sort of knowledge to aid you in your enquiries,’ Jane protested. ‘Even I was not born when Sir Benjamin went away.’
‘But it can be invaluable as an aide-memoire,’ he said quietly. ‘You and Mr Grayson were born in Norfolk and there must be memories of little things your parents might have said that you can recall to mind.’
Jane Grayson looked thoughtful at this and then said slowly, ‘Yes, I do remember my own mama telling me of a dreadful accident … I think it befell Charles Westbury but my dear mama’s stories were legion. I recall none of it except that the whole family perished at sea.’
‘But how could that be?’ Lavinia asked.
Adam Brown said gently, ‘They appeared to be on their way to Holland and were overtaken by a sudden freak storm which resulted in the loss of all the passengers and most of the crew. According to the newspapers for 19 November 1757, that day, there were severe storms all around Boston and King’s Lynn and from the wreck of the Golden Maiden there were but two who survived. But not all the family perished. The baby in the picture was Hugo’s father, Humphrey, and he had been left in the care of his nurse.
‘Let us pause there, while Matthew reads you another letter, this time from my own father to Sir Benjamin in Mysore.’
Dear Benjamin,
It is with great regret that I write to inform you of the deaths of your brother Charles and his wife, Lady Mary. They suffered with other passengers and crew when the Golden Maiden capsized in a terrible storm off the coast of Cromer. Not all the bodies have been recovered and no one seems to know why your brother and his wife were making the journey to Holland, but whatever the reason, they were tragically young for such a fate. Fortunately, Humphrey, the young baby, was left in the charge of his nurse. The memorial service will be at the end of this month and no doubt you will wish to return to England as soon as may be. There are certain legal formalities to be gone through, now that your brother is dead. My condolences to you and Mr George Westbury.
Edward Brown
‘But, Mr Brown,’ Kitty demanded, ‘if the baby in the picture did not perish with his parents, what did happen to him?’
‘I know that he was cared for by one of the relatives until he was of age. He married Isabel Andrews, an American lady, and Hugo Westbury is his son, the grandson of Charles. Lady Mary’s body was recovered from the wreck of the Golden Maiden but Charles was apparently lost at sea. I know not what happened to the other brother, George. Perhaps the one person to explain the mystery must be Sir Benjamin Westbury. He hopes to be back at the Hall on Friday next and I think that would be the time to visit him.’
The discussion ended there for the moment and the party continued with cards and some music provided by Kitty and Charlotte, who sang very prettily and were accompanied by their mother at the pianoforte. Even Lavinia was persuaded to give them one or two songs in her rich and distinctive contralto voice.
Imperceptibly, the evening was darkening into dusk and while his aunt was singing, Matthew sat side by side with Kitty near the window.
‘It was quite a surprise to hear of Ann West’s engagement, Kitty,’ he teased her. ‘You shouldn’t let her beat you to the altar, you know. You ought to bring some lucky young man up to scratch yourself.’
He expected her to laugh and disclaim coyly at his gentle teasing, but to his utter astonishment, Kitty flushed deeply and lowered her eyes miserably. There was a silence and then she said unhappily, ‘Mama thinks I would do well to accept Andrew – Mr Preston, that is.’
Matthew thought of the gawky young curate with the bobbing Adam’s apple and felt uncomfortable as he realized that Kitty, the normally open and cheerful Kitty whom he liked so much, was hurt and upset by his crass remarks. He tried to make light of it by saying, ‘Good Lord, and here was I thinking you’d be the bride of an earl at least.’ She glanced at him quickly, her full lips trembling a little, but said nothing because Lavinia had been persuaded to sing one last song and everyone was quiet.
Afterwards, as Annie served the tea, he continued the conversation with Kitty very briefly. ‘I am surprised by what you have told me, Kitty. I cannot recall the Reverend Preston ever singling you out particularly.’
Kitty said bitterly, ‘Oh yes, we see him at church every Sunday, of course, and Charlotte and I are both Sunday school teachers. Mama and the vicar, Mr Swift, are on the board of governors at the workhouse in King’s Lynn. Nothing has been said yet, but he seems in favour of Andrew Preston’s suit and Andrew often visits us after eve
nsong on Sundays.’
Matthew thought again of the wispy-haired curate with his spindly legs and worthy but dull personality. ‘Good Lord, Kitty,’ he exclaimed impulsively, ‘you cannot marry him. It would be a disaster. The fellow is an absolute bore.’
‘I know,’ Kitty said, twisting her fingers in her lap. ‘But Mama says that the other ladies in Felbrook all like him.’
‘Then let one of them marry him,’ Matthew said, smiling at her.
‘It is all very well for you to say that, but Uncle Bertram is also in favour of my accepting Mr Preston. He thinks that Mr Preston has excellent prospects for advancement. According to Uncle Bertram, we are soul mates.’
Her pretty lips twisted scornfully and Matthew said with some concern, ‘You are not engaged to the fellow, are you?’
‘No,’ Kitty said, but she said it with the sort of hopeless sigh which implied that it was only a question of time before the masterful Uncle Bertram would get his own way. ‘Uncle Bertram thinks that if a young lady does not take sensible opportunities for an eligible marriage, she will end up at her last prayers.’
‘What fustian,’ he said reassuringly. ‘But still, do not concern yourself, Kitty. He cannot force you to marry if you do not wish it.’
‘He can wear down my determination, though, and I may run out of reasons for resisting.’
‘Have no fear,’ he said, patting her hand reassuringly. ‘I shall think of a resolution to the problem.’
‘Will you indeed, Matthew?’ She looked up at him tremulously and he saw her eyes were filled with tears. Quickly she turned away and dabbed her eyes with her lace handkerchief. In the past year, since he had been friendly with the Grayson family, he had never known Kitty to cry and he was surprised at the compassion she aroused in him. He patted her hand awkwardly, searching for words of comfort for her, and with a visible effort Kitty tried to smile.
‘I am so sorry to be a watering pot, Matthew. I expect you hate missish girls who cry?’
Kitty was such an appealing little thing, he thought, and although he had never before felt any attraction for her in that way, when he had seen her tears, he’d felt a keen desire to help her.
But thinking along those lines was not going to provide him with an answer to the problem of Mr Preston and Uncle Bertram’s desire to see Kitty safely married. He must try and calm her and not let her become agitated by the pressures which were being forced on her. He set himself out to be gently amusing and chatted to Kitty of the various clients that he had dealt with lately, all of whom were characters he found entertaining. Before Annie came to offer them both some tea, Matthew had succeeded in calming her and Kitty had regained her composure long before it was time for the Graysons to leave.
CHAPTER FOUR
The day of the riding party started with exceptionally splendid sunshine, even for an Indian summer.
‘I know that this weather cannot last,’ Jane Grayson sighed. ‘Make the most of it, my dears, because tomorrow is removal day and we shall be too busy to think of such fripperies as riding parties for days to come.’
Both her daughters smiled at this, knowing that their mama’s consummate organizing ability would make the removal almost painless, and then they continued with their preparations for the picnic. John Dean had brought the horses from Felbrook Manor and by two o’clock, both Charlotte and Kitty were dressed in smart velvet riding habits and were ready to go.
Augusta Casterton was a widow and her only daughter, Aurelia, was her life. Tall, commanding, with advanced social aspirations and very wealthy, Augusta’s most burning ambition was to see Aurelia well married. She privately despised Ann West’s parents for allowing their daughter to accept an offer of marriage from Robert Thorpe, who in her opinion was but a modest country squire. True, he was wealthy but he would never be a member of the ton and Ann would never be accepted in the top echelons of society. Aurelia, on the other hand, would never be allowed to throw herself away on such as he. Since the return of Sir Benjamin and his heir, she’d decided that Hugo Westbury would fulfil the role of her future son-in-law to perfection.
He had graciously accepted her invitation to join the other young people of the neighbourhood for a ride round Mrs Casterton’s estate, followed by a lavish and luxurious alfresco meal, but she had seen his acceptance as nothing to signify. Augusta Casterton was a very astute woman of the world. She knew that Mr Westbury would be accepting many invitations and mixing socially with Felbrook society, especially once he was settled at the family home and able to return such hospitality. She guessed that with Sir Benjamin in frail health, Hugo Westbury would soon be seeking a wife. But not just yet, she thought cynically. He would give himself time to survey the possibilities and to play the field.
Perhaps none of the young damsels in the area would please him. Except Aurelia, that is, her one and only chick, in whom she had invested such time and emotional effort and money, of course. Aurelia was sure to please the most exacting gentleman. So Mrs Casterton bided her time and refused to see anything exceptional in his agreeing to attend the picnic. There would be many more invitations for him, especially in the lead up to Christmas, as the other mamas urged their darling daughters to set their caps at such a prize, and she was not going to allow Aurelia to appear to be too eager for a husband.
Even Bertram Grayson had accepted an invitation. Although not riding with the other young people, he arrived exquisitely dressed in a very modish outfit and proceeded to devote himself entirely to Mrs Casterton.
Bowing over her hand, he murmured, ‘Charmed, my dear ma’am. A most felicitous day for your outdoor venture. And the sun is set to shine on you and dear Miss Aurelia. So kind to invite an old fuddy-duddy like myself. I am sure I will enjoy being in such gay and youthful company.’
He gave her the benefit of his most attractive smile, while seeming hardly to notice Aurelia’s existence. Mrs Casterton liked him on sight. No fortune hunter here, she decided to herself, nor fuddy-duddy either. Rather, a handsome, worldly wise but modest young man who was putting himself out to be civilized and obliging. She immediately entrusted dear Aurelia into his care while she hurried off to check the catering arrangements yet again. Aurelia didn’t seem inclined to ride just yet, so Bertram offered his arm with a polite bow and led her off on a decorous walk round the gardens.
The other riders were all young and most of them were acquainted with each other already and all were looking forward to the afternoon picnic. All except for Kitty, that is, for as she and Charlotte had smilingly ridden together to meet Matthew, she’d caught sight of the curate, Andrew Preston. He was mounted on a fine chestnut mare and unlike the other young men of the party, who were in casual country nankeen jackets and breeches, he was dressed rather formally in his dark parson’s clothes. Matthew had also noticed him and swiftly positioned himself between Kitty and Andrew Preston, so that the curate’s view of her was obscured. In spite of her sweet nature, Kitty was not without her own strategies for dealing with her unwanted suitor and as he called ‘Good afternoon, ladies’ in his light tenor voice, she took the opportunity to spur her horse a little further away from him and she and Charlotte cantered round a little patch of scrubby trees, closely followed by Matthew King.
‘Mrs Casterton has said that we may ride where we will until three o’clock and then we shall meet back here again for a picnic,’ Kitty informed Matthew.
He glanced towards Mr Preston, who did not appear to be lacking for female company, and said quietly, ‘Should you care to ride towards the park? I have never had the chance to explore the woods on the boundary of Mrs Casterton’s estate, where it joins Sir Benjamin’s land.’
Both girls were eager. Charlotte knew that it was perfectly in order for her to wander with Matthew when accompanied by her sister and Kitty had no compunction at playing gooseberry if it meant avoiding Andrew Preston.
They had a swift canter as far as the woods and then slowed to a walking pace as they followed the path in single file, ducking t
o avoid overhanging branches and enjoying the peace and the sweetness of the birdsong. All three of them were quiet as they arrived at the edge of Mrs Casterton’s parkland, which adjoined that of Sir Benjamin Westbury and was bounded by a narrow stream. To Charlotte’s surprise, they were not alone. There in front of them was Hugo Westbury’s great black horse, Gypsy, his long, glossy neck stretched low over the water. She froze as the hated Hugo came into view, walking at the side of Aurelia Casterton, who was on horseback, and her Uncle Bertram. Bringing up the rear was Aurelia’s maid.
Charlotte took all this in instantly and would have turned and fled had not Ann West and her brother also arrived, both mounted on glossy chestnut mares. Matthew said with a smile, ‘Miss Casterton, Miss West. Gentlemen. Good day.’
Bows and polite greetings were exchanged while Charlotte remained fuming with impatience to be gone from Hugo Westbury’s hateful presence. Matthew had no notion of her feelings and was very affable in inviting the others to join their group at the picnic. Ann and her brother declined, saying they were promised to keep company with Robert Thorpe and his party, but Mr Westbury accepted very politely, without even a glance in Charlotte’s direction, and so they parted very amicably.
The picnic was planned for three o’clock and Charlotte and her sister were able to have an exhilarating gallop along the boundaries of the Casterton land with Matthew, before they returned to the picnic spot and chose a place under the spreading shade of a large tree. John Dean, Mrs Grayson’s groom, helped the girls down and tethered the horses nearby. He spread the picnic rugs and Mrs Casterton’s footman came forward with suitable napery, glasses and cutlery and prepared to serve them with some of the delectable food provided by their hostess. The sisters sat with their backs against the warm, gnarled trunk of the tree and Matthew lounged at his ease near to them, plying them with a little of each new delicacy being served by the footman, until they both laughingly cried, ‘No more!’
A Particular Circumstance Page 6
