“Why, so I think, though you are kind enough to flatter me beyond my desserts. No one has ever called me wise, before, precisely, though Grandmama says that my head’s screwed on the right way, in spite of my nonsense.”
“I am sure she is right. Well, then, Miss Denham, I fear there can be no hope for my friend Pamyngton finding an alliance in your family, and he may just as well tell your mother to permit you to go to Brighton.”
She laughed. “I should like to see that! But his case is not quite hopeless — Nell says she will have him, if he asks her, no matter how disagreeable he may be, because she would dearly love to be the wife of a Viscount!” She sobered a little. “But I ought not to have told you that, for it was just our fun, you know, and Nell didn’t really mean it — at least,” she added, thoughtfully, “I don’t think she did.”
He changed the subject at this point by asking her which turning to take next. She set him right, and soon they arrived at the iron gates of Eastridge House. He was about to turn the equipage into the short drive which led to the house, but she leaned over, touching his arm.
“No, please do not drive me up to the door, for the servants will see us, and Mama is sure to hear of it. I will go quietly round to the side entrance. It’s never locked until much later than this, and I can contrive to slip in without anyone noticing.”
“As you wish, ma’am.”
He jumped down, summoning the boy Jack to take charge of the horses. Then he assisted Miss Denham to alight and, picking up her portmanteau, offered her his free arm. She hung back.
“But I do not need you to come with me, sir,” she protested. “Indeed, I am more likely to escape notice if I go alone.”
“You will not wish to carry this wretched bag any further this evening, I should imagine? Besides, I should prefer to see you safely indoors before I leave you.”
She yielded to his persuasions. “Very well, then, if you must. But I think we had better walk in the shadow of the trees, for I see that the curtains are not yet drawn, and someone may chance to see us.”
He thought it unlikely that anyone would notice them approach in the fast-gathering darkness, but did not trouble to say so.
They went through the gate, and together walked in the shelter of the trees which bordered the drive until they reached the house. She had nothing to say, evidently occupied with her thoughts; and he did not break the silence.
Only when they reached the side entrance did she speak, turning towards him and holding out her hand.
“I can find no adequate words for thanking you, Mr. Gerard — you have been a friend indeed! I only wish I may not have brought you too far out of your way.”
He took her hand and bowed over it. “I beg you won’t mention it, Miss Denham. I have found it a most — intriguing — experience.”
She accepted the portmanteau from him, and turned towards the door.
“Possibly we may meet again some time,” she whispered. “Once again, my most sincere thanks.”
“I think perhaps we may. Meantime, may I beg you not to think too hardly of my poor friend Pamyngton?”
“I have almost forgiven him,” she replied, in a low voice, as she softly opened the door and slipped inside, out of his sight.
Chapter Three
ELEANOR IS CURIOUS
Catherine Denham arrived late at the breakfast table on the morning following her escapade. Her two youngest sisters had finished and were following their governess to the schoolroom; her father, she noticed with relief, had already gone about his own concerns.
“So you have condescended to put in an appearance at last, miss,” remarked her mother, sarcastically. “It’s to be hoped you have benefited from your long sleep, and are in a better humour than when we parted yesterday.”
“Yes, thank you, Mama,” replied Catherine meekly.
“Is your headache quite gone?” asked Louisa, in a kind tone, as she passed the bread and butter.
“A headache of that kind,” stated Lady Denham, “troubles no one for long.”
“Well, it did get better quite soon,” admitted Catherine. “May I have some fresh tea, Mama?”
Lady Denham signalled to Eleanor to ring the bell, as she was nearest to it.
“What did you do with yourself, Katie?” asked Eleanor as she obeyed.
“Oh, this and that,” replied Catherine, with a shrug. “I finished reading Maria Edgeworth’s ‘Belinda’ for one thing, so you may have it now, Lou.”
“That’s not fair!” exclaimed Eleanor, hotly. “You know it was my turn to have it next!”
“I’d forgotten. Anyway, it doesn’t matter, for I don’t think you’ll like it as well as ‘Castle Rackrent’. I didn’t.”
“What a pity! Still, it will do to tide me over until the next lot of novels arrive from the Circulating library, I dare say.”
“Really, one would suppose to listen to you girls that your home offered no rational occupations such as music, needlework or conversation,” said Lady Denham tartly. “You spend far too much of your time reading novels. They are unwholesome, and vastly lowering to one’s moral tone. I’m sure there is an abundance of good reading on your father’s bookshelves, without your needing to rely on the services of the Circulating library.”
“True, Mama,” replied Catherine. “But I do think we’ve read most of the books there which are likely to interest us.”
“It would do you a deal of good to try some of those which you don’t believe you would find interesting. One must sometimes think of improving the mind. There are some very fine volumes of sermons —”
Groans greeted this remark. She laughed suddenly, changing her tone.
“Well, I must confess they are not the reading I myself would have chosen at your age. Since you are determined to be frivolous, tell me what you’ve decided to wear at Nevern Hall this evening. Naturally, I am anxious that you should all look your best.”
“But if we all look our best,” protested Catherine, with a saucy smile, “then my Lord Pamyngton may offer for all three of us, and the fat would be in the fire!”
“I’ll be satisfied if he offers for one of you. It ought to be you, my dear,” said Lady Denham, turning to Louisa. “You are the eldest — and the handsomest.”
“I — I don’t aspire to it, Mama,” stammered Louisa, looking upset.
“No. I am very well aware that you do not,” replied her mother, in a vexed tone. “I am also aware of your reason. And I tell you, Louisa, that if you do not have done with this nonsense I shall pack you off for a twelvemonth to your Great Aunt Maria in Cheltenham. You are one and twenty, and practically on the shelf, all due to your own folly! It will not do, miss — it will not do at all — and if you can’t see where your own interest lies, you must be made to, that is all!”
“I mean to wear my new pink spotted muslin,” put in Eleanor, with the worthy object of drawing her mother’s attention away from Louisa, whose lip was trembling, “If we are not to go to Brighton this season, there is no point in hiding it away. And I promise you that if Viscount Pamyngton should offer for me, I would accept him at once! I should dearly love to be a Countess one day, and mistress of Nevern Hall, which is by far the handsomest residence hereabouts!”
“Yes, I dare say you would, child, and I am very pleased to hear it,” replied her mother, somewhat mollified. “But after Louisa, Catherine has the first claim.”
“Oh, you can leave me out of it,” said Catherine, with a grimace. “I have no wish to be any man’s second choice.”
“What do you mean?” asked her mother, sharply.
“Only that everyone knows Viscount Pamyngton was madly in love with that Eversley female all those years ago. If he thinks of marriage now, it is only a matter of convenience.”
“What stupid romantic notions have you got in your head now?” demanded Lady Denham, contemptuously. “It all comes of this novel-reading! What if he did happen to be head over heels in love with Georgiana Eversley that was? A man is
not going to wear the willow for all those years, you may depend! By now he will be more than ready to place his affections elsewhere, as you would readily understand if you knew more of gentlemen and their ways.”
“All the same,” replied Catherine, stubbornly, “I don’t think of marrying and settling down at all at present. I want to attend a great many more balls and parties, and meet many other eligible gentlemen —”
“Then you are very stupid, let me tell you! An advantageous match doesn’t present itself so often that a girl can afford to let a chance slip, not even when she is fortunate enough, as you are, to be both attractive and well-dowered,” stated Lady Denham, firmly. “You may have dozens of offers without there being one that comes near this! Upon my word,” she added, working herself up into a state of vexation, “it is hard on a woman who still has five daughters to establish creditably in the world, and who finds them so blind to their own interest!”
They thought it best not to reply to this outburst, and for a while the room was silent.
“Katie,” remarked Eleanor, after an interval, “what on earth have you been doing to your new gown, the aquamarine one that you meant to take to Fanny’s? I saw Fincher coming out of your room with it over her arm earlier on, and it was dreadfully creased, just as though you had slept in it.”
“Oh, did you?” asked Catherine, looking uneasily at her mother, who was rising from the table. “Well, the thing is I started to do some packing before I knew that we were not to go to Brighton.”
“Packing is best left to your maid, who understands how it should be done,” said Lady Denham, as she moved to the door. “Still, it is just what I should expect — another instance of your stupidity!”
She swept out of the room in a huff, and the girls eyed each other uneasily.
“She’s in a fine pet,” said Catherine. “Unless someone comes to call this morning, she will be out of humour all day, you may depend!”
“Let’s escape it by walking down to the village,” suggested Eleanor. “I want to try and find some pink ribbon to match my gown, and it’s a lovely morning. A breath of fresh air will do us all good.”
When she considered the matter, Catherine admitted that she had one or two purchases to make as well, and soon they were all strolling along the road that led to Holm Green.
“It’s too hot for riding, or I might have been tempted to take Stella out,” remarked Eleanor, as they passed the entrance to the stables of Eastridge House. “That reminds me, Katie — did you take Stella out yesterday evening, by any chance?”
“Why on earth should you ask?” replied her sister, with elaborate unconcern.
“Because I saw Biggs earlier on, and he told me that he found Stella wandering about the yard, ready saddled, just before we returned home yesterday evening. There was no one but you at home at that time, so naturally I thought you must be the culprit.”
“Upon my word, you’ve been very busy this morning!” exclaimed Catherine, with a forced laugh. “Whatever time did you get up, pray?”
“Earlier than you, at any rate. And don’t think to fob me off. Admit now, it was you who saddled my pony, wasn’t it?”
“Well, yes, it was. I thought a ride might blow away my headache.”
Eleanor laughed unkindly. “More likely to give you one, considering how badly you manage Stella!”
“She’s a pesky beast, and I detest her! The worst of it is, I think the feeling’s reciprocated.”
“Well, I’ll thank you not to take my pony again. You had no right, without asking me.”
“But you weren’t there to ask — and, anyway, I did the silly creature no harm.”
“How far did you take her, then?” demanded Eleanor, suspiciously.
Louisa intervened at this point. “Really, if you two mean to squabble all the time, I shall begin to wish I had stayed at home. Can’t you find some other subject of conversation?”
“I am only too willing to do so,” said Catherine, virtuously. “I didn’t choose this one.”
Eleanor directed a searching glance at her. “You know what, Katie, I think you’ve been up to something. What it is, I don’t know, but I’ll find out, never fear!”
“I am all a-tremble at the prospect,” said Catherine, derisively.
“I am more concerned about Mama’s pre-occupation with the prospects of a match between Viscount Pamyngton and one of us,” remarked Louisa, in a troubled tone. “For one thing, it will be so very awkward to meet him this evening knowing that such a thought is in the minds of nearly everyone present. It doesn’t make for easy, natural conversation.”
“Then let us state our position immediately!” laughed Catherine. She sketched a curtsy. “My Lord, we are delighted to make your acquaintance, but wish to say at once that we haven’t the faintest desire to wed you. At least,” she added, her eyes dancing, “my sister Nell wouldn’t mind so much, provided you could arrange to get rid of your parents as soon as possible and make her a Countess, and mistress of Nevern Hall!”
“Katie, you clown!” exclaimed Eleanor, breaking into laughter.
Even Louisa’s gravity was shaken, and all three were laughing heartily when they heard a carriage approaching. They just had time to stand close in to the hedge, still doubled up with mirth, before a curricle drove past them.
As it was approaching, the gentleman in the driving seat gave them a casual glance which soon hardened into a frank stare. When he drew level to pass, he touched his hat and bowed.
They stood looking after him until the vehicle had disappeared round the next bend.
“Well!” exclaimed Louisa. “For the life of me, I do not know who that was!”
“Nor I,” agreed Eleanor. She turned to Catherine. “But I’ll wager you do, Katie! It was you he looked at particularly! Who is he, and where have you met him before?”
“Nonsense!” replied Catherine, airily. “How can you say so? He looked at all of us, and no wonder, for we were making fine exhibitions of ourselves, laughing fit to die!”
“Well, he did acknowledge one of us — or all of us,” said Louisa, thoughtfully. “Of course, he may just have been exercising misplaced gallantry, seeing three females on the road unescorted, and in a most improper state of mirth.”
“I don’t believe that — it was Katie he bowed to,” persisted Eleanor. “And I think she knows it was, too — see, she is blushing, now, I do declare!”
Catherine was annoyed to find that this was true. She wished, not for the first time, that her younger sister did not have such keen powers of observation, and set about putting her off the scent.
“What nonsense you talk, Nell! I’m sure the weather is warm enough to give anyone a touch of colour! But if you insist on making a drama of it, why, yes, I will confess all!” She threw out her arms in an extravagant gesture. “He is my lover!” she whispered, dramatically. “Last night, when you were all asleep in your beds, I crept out and met him by moonlight! Was there a moon? I forget — anyway, it doesn’t matter, for it’s always moonlight when lovers meet! We planned to elope, but I could only manage things by riding Stella all the way to Gretna Green — ‘
She had succeeded. Neither of her sisters could stop laughing for long enough to press any sensible questions on her; and by the time they sobered again, they had reached the village, and the incident was put aside for the moment.
Presently something occurred which drove it from their minds altogether.
Chapter Four
STAR-CROSSED LOVERS
They had passed the first group of cottages and were walking beside the wall of the churchyard when a gentleman came through the lynch gate and turned to walk in their direction. He was a dark, good-looking young man, but the expression on his face matched the sober hue of the suit he was wearing. As they came face to face he halted, hesitated for a moment as though taken unawares, then raised his hat and bowed. The girls, too, paused uncertainly; then Catherine and Eleanor said good morning.
He answered them
gravely and stood still, his eyes on Louisa, who neither moved nor spoke.
“We were just walking along to Mrs. Lippitt’s shop to make some purchases,” said Catherine, breaking the awkward silence. “It — it is such a fine morning, is it not? Far too pleasant to waste indoors!”
He agreed, but without much conviction. “I must not detain you,” he added. “It is fortunate that we should have met, for it enables me to bid you good-bye. I am going away from home tomorrow and expect to be absent for some time.”
“Going away?” Louisa whispered, raising her head at these words and showing the distress in her face.
“Yes, Miss Denham. I have taken a post as tutor for a time in another part of the country.”
There was another silence. The young man continued to look steadily at Louisa, who would not meet his eyes. It was evident that both of them had almost forgotten the presence of the two younger girls.
“I am sure you will wish to tell Lou all about it,” exclaimed Catherine, tugging at Eleanor’s gown, surreptitiously. “And as she has no purchases to make, perhaps we may leave her in your charge for a little while. I should think,” she added, with some forethought, “it might be cooler walking in the churchyard, besides being more private. Come along, Nell.”
She seized her younger sister’s arm and was about to hustle her away when Louisa put out an unsteady hand to stop them.
“Don’t go, Katie!” she said, in a tremulous voice. “I must not — you know I promised —”
“We shall be back in a few moments,’ insisted Catherine; then, in a lower tone which could only reach her sister’s ear — “You cannot leave him without even saying goodbye! Go with him, love, and for once never mind about Mama!”
Louisa shook her head, but did not try to detain them any more. She watched them walk away, then turned to the young man, who was still studying her in silence.
“I should not,” she said, shakily. “You know I should not! I promised my parents — we both did! — that we would not write to each other or try to — to meet again!”
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