A Particular Circumstance

by Shirley Smith

  This is how Hugo Westbury saw them as he walked across the grass, followed by a groom leading his huge black stallion. He knew hardly anyone at the picnic, although he recognized Matthew, the young partner in Sir Benjamin’s firm of lawyers. Oh, and the unpleasantly aggressive Miss Charlotte Grayson, of course, he thought to himself sardonically. She looked very attractive, laughing in the sunshine, but he noticed that her laughter faded as he approached. Definitely a young lady to be avoided at all costs.

  Matthew was the first to greet him and rose to shake his hand. ‘Mr Westbury, I am so pleased you have come to join us, sir.’

  Hugo bowed civilly to the two girls and he and Matthew joined them on the grass, both young men eating with hearty appetites. Mrs Casterton had an ice house and the lemonade was pleasantly cold as was the chilled white wine and all four of them sipped appreciatively, until finally, their appetites satisfied, Matthew smiled at the newcomer and said, ‘Let me raise my glass to you, sir, and welcome you back to Felbrook. I know you will be moving into the family home very soon. Your continuing good health, Mr Westbury, and I hope you will prosper as the manager of the Westbury estate.’

  Both Charlotte and Kitty listened to this with conflicting emotions. Kitty, noticing Mr Preston hovering on the edge of their little group, studiously avoided looking at him and hoped his presence would not be noticed. Instead she gazed at Mr Westbury with a very pleasant expression and raised her glass obediently for Matthew’s toast. Charlotte, still feeling absolute dislike for the arrogant and obnoxious Hugo Westbury, lifted her glass with a noticeable lack of enthusiasm and didn’t smile. None of this was lost on Hugo Westbury, who made a point of being affable to Matthew while ignoring the sisters.

  ‘And how are the investigations continuing, Mr King?’

  ‘Well, some progress, sir. My partner Adam Brown has now definitely identified the unfortunate young man as your late grandfather and he will be able to tell you more when you meet us in the office.’ He lowered his voice and said gently, ‘Mr Brown has arranged for the remains to be moved to the coroner’s office at King’s Lynn, where a closer examination may be made.’

  Hugo Westbury said, ‘I see.’ And that was all.

  Watching him, Charlotte was fascinated by the expression on his face. Sadness, certainly, and puzzlement as well. As though aware of her scrutiny, he composed his features into an expression of sardonic amusement and said, ‘And what about you, Miss Grayson? The deceased was obviously a relative of mine. Do you have any theories as to how the poor fellow could have met his end?’

  ‘No, sir, only what Mr Brown and Mr King here have guessed at.’ She spoke stiffly, all the pleasure of the picnic now having been destroyed by the presence of Hugo Westbury and the reminder of the grisly find at Westbury Hall.

  He sensed her antipathy and decided to taunt her a little further. ‘I trust you are now completely over the shock of your macabre discovery, Miss Grayson, and are ready to move out of the Hall tomorrow?’

  His eyes were mocking but she refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her anger. ‘Why, yes, Mr Westbury,’ she said in a fair imitation of Ann West’s sweet voice. ‘Mama has moved heaven and earth so that we will be out tomorrow.’ Her raised chin and glinting eyes belied her gentle tones and she gazed at him just as challengingly as she had done when he’d caught her meandering along the muddy path and had narrowly avoided an accident. It was obvious that this angry and unreasonable young woman was determined to cross swords with him yet again. She would regret it, he thought grimly. The female who was able to get the better of Hugo Westbury had not yet been born. He turned towards Matthew King, deliberately cutting her out of the conversation, and proceeded to talk about estate business, the state of the crops and his ideas for the repair and renovation of some of the cottages. This gave Andrew Preston the opportunity he needed to greet Kitty and Matthew King and to sit down near the sisters. They had to greet him politely and, unusually, Charlotte actually welcomed his presence. After all, she could effectively cut out Hugo Westbury now by conversing animatedly with the young curate.

  He was most unsuitably dressed for the occasion with his starchy dog collar and the damp, wispy hair was flattened against his brow with the heat. It was obvious that he was eager for an opportunity to chat with Kitty and gradually Charlotte withdrew from conversation with him and looked instead at Matthew and Hugo Westbury. Their conversation had also petered out and they both lay back, relaxing in the warm sun, holding half-empty wine glasses.

  Although Hugo Westbury had pointedly ignored Charlotte, he was reclining next to her on the picnic rug, his eyes closed against the glare of the August sun, and she was able to study him unobserved. She took note of the bronzed hands, one of them still languidly holding the glass, the fingers long and slender for a man, his white shirt casually unbuttoned at the wrist and rolled back slightly. Her eyes moved higher to watch the steady rise and fall of his powerful chest. Like all the young men present, he had dispensed with a cravat and there was a sprinkling of fine, dark hair showing through the immaculate shirt, which was open at the neck, revealing the strong, tanned column of his throat. Charlotte studied his profile, the prominent, almost beaky nose and firm, shapely mouth. His cheekbones were aristocratically high and his black lashes hid his unusual blue eyes. One lock of black hair had fallen over his brow and she had a sudden impulse to brush it back. He was frowning slightly because of the sun and she was very conscious of the warmth of his body so near to her own. His grasp on the glass had now become slack. His other hand supported his head and it almost seemed as if he were asleep.

  Suddenly, he opened his eyes and for one startling moment her own eyes were locked into his incredible blue gaze. Then, as the warm colour flooded her cheeks, she quickly glanced away and looked instead at her sister and Andrew Preston, still talking stiltedly and seemingly oblivious of her interest in Hugo Westbury.

  Hugo Westbury was equally affected when he realized how intense her gaze had been. As he rolled over and sat up, the look he directed at Charlotte was unfathomable. He rose unhurriedly and bowed politely, but with an almost sneering expression as he took his leave of her. Definitely a young woman to be avoided, he told himself.

  The atmosphere now became very uncomfortable. Kitty was too polite to express how bored she was with Andrew Preston’s conversation. Matthew was puzzled at Charlotte’s sulky silence and Andrew Preston, feeling that he had neglected others in his congregation, excused himself and went to greet some of his parishioners.

  Hugo sought out his hostess, Mrs Casterton, and her daughter.

  He found them seated under an awning erected by Mrs Casterton’s indefatigable servants. Mr Bertram Grayson was with them, lolling at his ease on one of Mrs Casterton’s delicate gilded chairs. He noticed that Mr Grayson seemed to be very much approved of by the hostess, and was indeed making himself utterly charming to her. Hugo was used to moving in society, and he recognized the polish of one as experienced in polite circles as Bertram Grayson. His dress was the epitome of modern fashion and his figure, although a trifle portly, was undeniably graceful. His address, though a little pompous, was perfectly sophisticated.

  Bertram rose as soon as Hugo approached and greeted him smoothly, as though he were in charge. ‘Ah, Mr Westbury. Well met, sir. May I direct the footman to bring you some refreshment?’

  Hugo noticed Mrs Casterton’s beaming approval of this and glanced at Aurelia. Her rather plain little face was set in a satisfied smile. It was obvious that like her mama she was pleased with the attentions of Bertram Grayson. Mrs Casterton was a widow, he reflected. To have a surrogate husband or son, or indeed any male substitute for family support, must be very gratifying for her. Bertram Grayson was obviously fulfilling that role very satisfactorily.

  Augusta Casterton had been extremely busy in organizing this event. The catering arrangements, the difficult butler in charge of the wine cellar, dear Aurelia’s smart outfit, all the invitations and the replies; all these responsibi
lities had fallen on Augusta’s shoulders. She was pleased and grateful that, as a widow, without a man about the house, she seemed able to count on Bertram Grayson.

  Hugo took in all these observations, while accepting a glass of chilled white wine, and watched as Bertram Grayson bowed before Miss Casterton and her mama, asking if they would care for any refreshments. Aurelia’s heavy expression softened into something more pleasant and her mama positively beamed as Mr Grayson snapped his fingers imperiously to the footman, glorying in such masterful charge of their comfort and pleasure.

  Hugo chose a seat next to Aurelia and set himself the task of being polite and pleasant to her. Not a very obviously attractive chit, he thought to himself, but perhaps he should take the trouble to get to know her. She and her mama were, after all, now his neighbours. He hoped there was more to Miss Casterton than at first appeared. He was amused to observe the charm and gallantry lavished on both mother and daughter by Mr Grayson and after some further polite conversation, he took his leave.

  Charlotte and Kitty didn’t linger for very long after the picnic. Pleading their need to help dear Mama with last-minute packing, they made their way back to Westbury Hall, accompanied by Matthew. In spite of Mrs Grayson’s warm invitation to him to stay for supper, Matthew was firm in his resolve not to impose on her at such a busy time and left, promising to come round early to help with the move.

  Both Charlotte and Kitty were somewhat reticent about the riding party and answered their mother’s questions briefly and without enthusiasm. Finally, Jane Grayson laughed and said, ‘You seem to have had a dismal time of it in spite of so looking forward to the occasion. What was wrong? I can hardly believe Augusta Casterton penny-pinched on the food and refreshments. The weather was a little cooler this afternoon, I suppose. Was it that the company was uncongenial?’

  ‘No, of course not,’ Charlotte snapped. ‘And Matthew stayed with us all the time.’

  ‘What, then?’

  ‘Aurelia Casterton has turned into a real flirt-gill just lately,’ Charlotte complained. ‘And Hugo Westbury was as unpleasant as ever….’

  ‘And Andrew Preston would not stop talking,’ Kitty chimed in.

  ‘Dear, me,’ Mrs Grayson laughed. ‘What a miserable time you had, to be sure. And not even the solace of a good supper. Mrs Palmer has given notice that it will be only a cold collation this evening. She will start breakfast very early in the morning so that all the vegetables and victuals will be packed up for the move.’

  The girls were unaccountably subdued and even the excitement of moving failed to enthuse them.

  On the next day, however, with their usual youthful exuberance, they were up betimes and waiting, ready and impatient for John Dean to bring round the horses. Jimmy the carter had already loaded their movable pieces of furniture and crates of books and china. He would be making the journey to Felbrook Manor as many times as was necessary to remove everything from Westbury Hall. Hugo Westbury was as good as his word and before the furniture had even reached the Hall gates, a small army of domestics, recruited from the village, was moving purposefully up the drive. All were armed with brooms, mops and carpet beaters, ready to clean the Hall in preparation for Sir Benjamin and Hugo Westbury, and Charlotte scowled as she passed them.

  Jane Grayson’s childhood home had originally been a working farmhouse and when they reached the gate, the two girls were very surprised to see that there were none of the outbuildings and barns usually associated with animal husbandry.

  ‘Well, dears,’ Jane said. ‘In the days when transport and communications were unreliable, my grandfather’s prosperous estate had provided all the necessities of life. Gradually, however, the estate became less self-sufficient and as roads and waterways improved, luxuries from abroad, like Madeira wine and bohea tea, became essential to ladies and gentlemen of quality. My own parents found that servants were not so easy to keep as they had once been and so the dairy, brew-house and bakehouse were done away with even before my dear papa died. Of course, the stables have been kept.’

  Charlotte and Kitty could only vaguely remember Felbrook Manor from their own early childhood and they spent the first hour in their new home exploring. The entrance hall led to a gracious panelled and papered staircase and on the right of the hall was a small sitting-room that their mama had designated as Mrs Palmer’s. The library and study were combined and the kitchen had a separate game larder, where game birds could be hung and prepared for the table. Both the dining-room and the drawing-room were very spacious, the dining-room able to seat twenty and the drawing-room with deeply curved cornices around the ceiling, beautifully decorated with moulded flowers and swags of plaster foliage. Both the girls were enchanted by the delicate rose-and cream-coloured carpet, ordered by their mama well in advance of the move. Jane Grayson had also ordered new beds and various pieces of fine drawing-room furniture from a reputable cabinet maker in Norwich and these items had already been delivered to their new home.

  ‘Now come and see your bedrooms, girls. A surprise for you. We are so spacious here and you have your own rooms.’

  This was indeed a surprise. They’d never had a room each at the vicarage and the rather gloomy bedrooms at Westbury Hall had been so full of dark antique furniture that Charlotte and Kitty had got the two hired men to move various pieces out of the pleasantest room, to make more space, and they had shared the large four-poster bed.

  ‘Luxury indeed,’ Charlotte said. ‘Thank you, dearest Mama. It is so thoughtful of you to know what we wanted.’

  ‘Yes. Thank you, Mama,’ Kitty echoed dutifully, but Charlotte saw the faintest shadow cross her sister’s pleasant, open face and wondered with a pang if Kitty really did want her own room and whether her sister felt quite ready to sleep alone. It wouldn’t be so easy to have their late-night confidences or fits of girlish giggles now, she thought.

  But Kitty’s expression turned so quickly into smiles of admiration for the delicate new side tables and wash stand that Charlotte thought that perhaps she had imagined it.

  The morning passed very quickly with all the unpacking and arranging of the furniture. With Matthew’s help, Mrs Grayson had directed the hanging of the curtains in the main bedchambers before luncheon. This meal was merely a picnic of cold meats and wine in the grand dining-room, but as usual in the Grayson household, it had been enjoyed with much pleasure.

  Afterwards, Matthew helped Charlotte to unpack the books and arrange them on the library shelves, while Kitty helped her mother to make up the beds.

  ‘This is such a good job done, Kitty darling,’ Mrs Grayson said. ‘And tonight we shall be so comfortable in our new house. Now we have finished for the moment, run down and ask Mrs Palmer if she needs any help with anything.’

  Kitty duly ran down, but Mrs Palmer was as always too prideful to admit to needing help with anything, especially from a young lady, who was in her opinion ‘just a young lass’ and not used to hard toil. Easier to do it with Phoebe, she thought, especially as her mistress had engaged another maid to help with the work and she was due to start first thing in the morning. She thanked Kitty very graciously. ‘I shan’t be needin’ yer, Miss Kitty,’ she said. ‘Much better for you to help your ma, wi’ the beds.’

  Kitty ran back up the stairs, only to be told by Mrs Grayson that the men had come to help with shifting the furniture and arranging the drawing-room. ‘Perhaps you could look in the butler’s pantry and see that the cutlery and china are safely stowed, my love,’ she said, and with the help of a little stable lad, Kitty had accomplished this in less than an hour. She went over every item of cutlery with Robert’s special cloth and stored them away safely and then sent the lad to help John Dean. It seemed a long time since luncheon and even longer to dinner and Kitty felt sleepy. She settled down on the soft cushions of the window seat to have a little rest. Her eyelids drooped and without being aware of it, Kitty fell asleep, one arm dangling over the edge of the cushions with the silver cloth still clutched in her hand.
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  She was awoken by a light touch. Matthew had been sent down for another pair of scissors to release the string on a pack of books and finding Kitty asleep, tried to remove the cloth without wakening her, and replace it on the sideboard. She awoke immediately, flushed with sleep and unable at first to remember where she was.

  ‘Hello,’ Matthew said gently. ‘You are obviously sleeping on the job and that could mean instant dismissal if you are found out.’

  She sat up, struggling to regain her composure and smoothed her gown. ‘I … I must have fallen asleep … What time is it? Where is Charlotte?’

  ‘It is after four o’clock. Charlotte is still sorting books. She needs these scissors. We shall soon be finished.’

  He stood in front of her, without picking up the scissors, but merely staring down at her as though it were the first time that they’d met. Kitty looked up at him, smiling innocently and meeting his eyes with her clear gaze. ‘I suppose you were up very early,’ he said. He was surprised by the feelings that Kitty had aroused in him when he’d come across her asleep and so vulnerable, like a child, he thought. He was startled by a sudden feeling of wanting to love her and look after her. He turned his thoughts away from these emotions immediately. He had no business feeling like that about Kitty. After all, he was practically betrothed to Charlotte.

  ‘Mama did not need me and … and the silver and china is all put away now. I must have fallen asleep….’

  ‘And that is a hanging offence,’ he laughed softly, feeling an overwhelming desire to kiss her.

  She immediately joined in with his pretended censure. ‘But please do not give me away, guv. I shall not do it again. Word of honour.’ She stood up, still smiling at him, and Matthew took her hands in his, looking down into her steady grey eyes.