“No. We ran away and married in Gretna Green, as a consequence of which my brother disowned me; the competence had been a gift from my grandmother and was not, I think, subject to any of the usual arrangements which might have been made between him and my brother if the marriage had been undertaken in the conventional way. He never asked me for money.”
“I should think,” the Countess said after giving the matter some thought, “that he is most likely dead; otherwise, it’s my belief he would have come back – or at the very least turned you out of the house. If he married you for what he believed at the time to be love - not having thought at that point about your portion – I am persuaded that he would have recollected your situation once he discovered that you were not after all to his taste. He must have known you were a Hankham and therefore likely to have a sizeable portion. He would have wanted to make peace with his brother-in-law in order to get his hands on that. To marry a pretty and well provided-for woman out-of-hand and, as a consequence, lose what she would have brought with her seems to me to be the action of a madman – certainly at the very least a fool. Was he a fool?”
“I did not think so at the time,” Aspasia said.
She was finding the Countess’s argument more interesting than she had expected. Convinced that the older woman had embarked upon this summing-up with malicious intentions, she was nevertheless fascinated by her comments. No one to whom she had confided her story before – the magistrate and his wife and her niece – had looked at the matter in quite such an unsympathetic but pragmatic way. They had all tried to find an explanation which would protect her from further humiliation and pain; the Countess showed no such consideration.
“No, of course you did not: you were in love and, if he was not a fool, you certainly were. I suppose his rank would have made him completely beyond the pale so far as your parents were concerned?”
“Yes.”
“Well, clearly he misjudged them because very likely, although he realised that they would never consent in the normal way, he may have thought they could be compelled to do so if he ran off with you. If nothing else about the matter proves how unequal the match was, that does: everyone knows that the Hankhams are absurdly proud and would never countenance a mésalliance. I did not know until today that Archibald had tried to run off with Letitia but it does not surprise me in the least that Hankham, who seems to have greeted Frederick’s offer with joy, should have frowned upon a match with Archibald, whose rank may be unexceptionable but whose fortune and prospects are poor. Only a man so low born as your Mr Ripley could have been unaware of the Hankham reputation, not only for excessive pride, but also for financial acumen!”
During this interrogation and eventual judgment, pronounced with considerable satisfaction, the Earl had been unsuccessfully trying to intervene. Now at last he managed to insert a sentence; it was short and lacked wit, serving to divert the Countess’s attention only from Mr Ripley’s fortunes – or lack thereof – to her stepson’s.
“Not everything is about money, Mama!” was what he said.
“No? I think you will find most things are,” she retorted. “I daresay Mrs Ripley has been wondering why you made her niece an offer when you were barely acquainted with her and she had already run off with your brother!
“My dear Mrs Ripley, pray take heed of what I have said. You may think, having no doubt remarked the elegance and indeed luxury of the Castle – particularly when compared to this ruin – that my stepson has plenty of the ready. You will find, however, on closer examination of his affairs, that such is by no means the case. He is in debt; that is why he has offered for a girl whom I don’t doubt everyone knows has been besmirched. She has money!”
“Oh, I don’t think she does, you know,” Aspasia said, quite pleased to see that the Countess, in her determination to wound the Earl, had misunderstood the pecuniary position of the Hankhams. She was, in any event, learning not to place too much reliance upon the Countess’s pronouncements for, earlier, she had accused him of failing to give his brother sufficient funds to run his estate; now she appeared to be implying he was unable to manage his own. She was beginning to think that the old lady set little store by consistency.
“No?” the Countess repeated. “If Frederick does not marry money soon, his creditors will foreclose on him and he will be forced to sell land. Is it likely he would offer for a girl such as your niece, with whom he is barely acquainted and for whom he has no affection, unless he was assured of a sizeable dowry coming with her?”
This revelation not unnaturally caused consternation. The Earl looked annoyed and Aspasia, noting this as well as being suddenly provided with a credible explanation for the apparent insanity of Stonegate’s offer, went red.
“I am persuaded you are mistaken, my lady,” she murmured. “I do not know precisely what Letty’s portion will be, but I am certain she is not an heiress.”
“Ask him!” the Countess advised succinctly, nodding at the silent Earl.
“Is it true?” she asked. “Is it Letty’s fortune which attracts you?”
“No. I do not expect you to believe me, but I was unaware of its extent until my offer had been accepted by Lord Hankham.”
The Countess positively snorted at this denial and, undaunted, continued, “No doubt he had not forgotten what a pretty girl she is – and his memory has not played him false: she is an exceedingly pretty girl. How wise he was to wait until Archibald was wounded before declaring himself for, although he is by no means an ugly man, Archibald was used to be by far the better looking of the pair. Fortunately for him, your niece seems to be as shallow as she is pretty and has clearly taken against my son now that he has lost his looks.”
“As Letty’s chaperone – and in some sense standing in for her guardian,” Aspasia said to the Earl, ignoring the Countess, “I do not think it out of order, in view of your mother’s accusation, for me to ask whether you have agreed the terms of the marriage settlement with my brother?”
The Earl said, “It is not out of order, but I believe I would prefer to discuss the matter with you privately. Mama has a habit of putting the worst possible slant upon most of what I say. Suffice it to say that I am not by any means beset by creditors. She thinks I must be because Papa – who did indeed run into debt on account of spending a vast sum on the interior of the Castle – was. Since his death, I have made a number of retrenchments – some of them in the teeth of vociferous opposition from Mama - and am of the belief that the estate will come about in time.”
“I daresay it will when you have Miss Denton’s fortune to play around with!” the irrepressible Countess put in.
Neither the Earl, no doubt resolved to resist his stepmother’s provocation, nor Aspasia, who felt she had already allowed herself to be drawn into an exceedingly improper conversation, replied to this sally and the trio resumed their luncheon, Stonegate filling their glasses and proffering a plate laden with small parcels of carefully plaited asparagus decorated with tiny strips of bacon.
“I hope Letty has not been taken ill again,” Aspasia said. “Lord Archibald has been a long time.”
“I should think it possible that it is he who has been taken ill,” the Countess said. “Do you think you should investigate, Frederick?”
“I am persuaded she would have rung the bell for Oliphant if Archibald had been taken ill. Meanwhile, I daresay they have a good deal to say to each other and I think it tactful to allow them the time to do so without being badgered by any of us.”
“Huh!” Lady Stonegate exclaimed. “What will you do if she has changed her mind and decided she prefers him after all?”
“I shall of course bow to her decision and wish them both happiness. I cannot prevent their sentiments re-blooming and would rather they did so before she and I are married than after.”
Chapter 16
Aspasia was thankful when Lord Archibald returned for, although his presence promised little improvement in the atmosphere, she hoped that, simply by inc
reasing the numbers, the Countess’s attention would be focused less sharply upon her.
He was greeted with a solicitous enquiry from the Earl as to Letty’s state of health and, being reassured that she was in full possession of her senses and sitting comfortably upon a sofa in the saloon, there was a noticeable lightening of the tension in the room. With Letty absent, Lord Archibald’s mood seemed to improve; he managed to enquire of his mother how she had been occupying herself since he last saw her, and the Earl and Aspasia were able to speak to each other without constant interpolations from the Countess.
“Do you ever come to London?” he asked.
“As a matter of fact I have never been,” she replied, smiling at his surprised face. “When I was growing up we lived a very long way from the metropolis and I eloped before I was old enough to have been presented.”
“Have you never wished to see it?”
“I did when I was young; I positively longed for my launch into Society but then forgot about it when I met Mr Ripley and allowed myself to be swept off my feet. Since then I have not felt able to venture far on account of my position being so very uncertain. If I had been sure I was a widow, I think I might have visited in a quiet way and stayed somewhere on the fringes; that way I could at least have seen the sights and the museums and perhaps watched the king pass by.”
“Good God! I believe you should extend your stay and I will escort both you and Letty to London and introduce you to my friends.”
Aspasia wondered whether these would include Lady Vanston and thought that, for the sake of opening Letty’s eyes to the character of her future husband, a trip to London might prove to be a wise move.
“Would you?” she asked. “I own I would like that excessively.”
“Then I will write to your brother this evening to suggest it. It might be a good thing to go sooner rather than later and then return to the Castle afterwards because, as summer advances, there will be fewer and fewer people in London; in any event it will soon become too hot for there to be much pleasure in seeing the sights. If everyone has left for the summer, you will think I have no friends!” he added on a humorous note.
“I am persuaded that is by no means the case,” she returned politely, although in truth she was beginning to wonder whether a man whose motives were so mysterious and whose family life was so sour did indeed have any friends – apart, of course, from Lady Vanston, who was not precisely a friend. She could readily believe that he would make a good lover for he was undeniably handsome and possessed an excellent figure, as well as having shown evidence of being the sort of man who put others before himself. “I understand you spend more time in the metropolis than in the country.”
“I own I do – or, rather I have done until now,” he admitted. “There are many delightful things to do in the country and, when I am married, I am determined to spend longer in Sussex but, unless one has a constant stream of guests, there is not a great deal of choice of companion amongst one’s neighbours.”
This stated intention made Aspasia wonder whether he meant to leave his new wife in the country while he continued to amuse himself in London with his mistress. She did, however, think that this explained at least a portion of his apparently infinite patience with his stepmother: he spent so little time with her that he probably considered enduring her hostility a necessary and unavoidable evil of being in Sussex.
“I suppose you have an estate manager to see to the farms and so forth while you are away? Your property shows no sign of the neglect that is so apparent in this one.”
He smiled. “Oh, yes, I do. But, although I spend most of the time in London, and indeed during the hunting season go to another of my properties in Leicestershire, I visit frequently to keep an eye on the place. Here,” he lowered his voice in a probably futile attempt to prevent his brother from hearing, “Archibald has not been in residence for long and – frankly – is not yet well enough to manage the estate. It has been sadly neglected for a number of years, but was left to him outright by our father so that he considers it his own in a way that he will of course never experience with the Castle - unless I die sooner rather than later!”
“He has begun though,” Aspasia said, “by employing a first-rate cook. That, to me, sounds a very positive note and convinces me that he will soon be on the mend. Good food, you know, is probably the best medicine he can have!”
The Earl smiled at this and Aspasia found many of her suspicions fading. He had, when he showed genuine warmth, a delightful expression: his teeth were excellent, his eyes grew soft and – oddly and altogether charmingly – a dimple appeared in one lean cheek. This had a magnetic effect and she found she could not help smiling back.
“Indeed! Mama will not agree with you. She believes that cooks who have a high opinion of themselves produce food which is too rich and that such a diet does a man no good. Archibald is quite right that she would have us all live on bread and gruel – or something similarly plain - if she could prevail upon the kitchen to serve it at every meal! I should not think it would be easy to retain a cook in such circumstances for I believe the best ones enjoy trying new dishes.”
“Good God! Does she, when you and she are alone in the Castle, take most of her meals with you?”
“No, she generally eats in her own quarters, being convinced that my cook will poison her, but usually joins me after dinner in order to have someone to whom she can express her general dissatisfaction with the world over a dish of tea. Of course, when I am not there, she remains, so far as I can gather, in the North Tower most of the time. She has her own cook there – an ancient crone who was, as I understand it, her nurse a long time ago.”
“Is it a long time since your father’s demise?” she asked, thinking that the Countess must be lonely when the Earl was away in London.
“No; he died shortly after Archibald had gone to Europe. Before then, I own I was in London most of the time – or in one of my other houses. Mama has never found me easy – nor I her – so that I kept out of the way. Archibald lived in the Castle with them so that, when Papa died – and he was away - Mama was left alone. I came back then, partly in order to keep her company, but also because, once the extent of the debts became clear, I realised I must do what I could to make ends meet. Mama was right when she told you earlier that there is not a great deal of money in the estate at present, but I am doing my best to rectify the situation.”
“And is marrying Letty part of that project?” she asked in a low voice.
“No,” he replied baldly. “If I had wished to ally myself to an heiress, I believe I would have been wiser to choose one with a larger fortune. Your niece has a sizeable dowry, but I know many young women with more substantial ones.”
“What are you two whispering about?” the Countess asked, growing tired of Lord Archibald’s attempts at conversation.
“Did you wonder why we were whispering?” the Earl asked gently. “But I apologise.”
“I daresay they were talking about me,” Archie said. “I don’t know whether they meant to protect me or you from their doom-mongerings, but I hardly think we want a report on their whisperings.
“If you have all eaten enough, shall we return to the saloon or perhaps take a turn in the garden? The terrace is very over-grown but there is a place down by the river where we can sit and enjoy the sight of the water irises and perhaps some swans. We can take some rugs down or I can ask Oliphant to have his apprentice bring down some chairs. Would you like that, Mama?”
“Can you walk that far?”
“Yes; I do so most days. The physician has told me I must take exercise if my muscles are not to atrophy.”
“Mrs Ripley?” the Earl asked.
“I believe I will see how Letty is feeling; she may like to walk down to the river or she may prefer to go home – if that would not be too inconvenient for you, my lord?”
“Not in the least; I am ready to leave at a moment’s notice if that is what she would like. Would it be best i
f we waited inside until you have ascertained her wishes? We do not want to make Oliphant or his assistant go to the trouble of taking down rugs and chairs if we are unlikely to use them.”
Aspasia thanked him for his consideration and set off down the long, dark corridor towards the room in which they had first been received. Lord Archibald asked if she remembered the way and offered to escort her but she declined, thinking that it would be advisable to speak to Letty without him being either present or hanging around outside the door.
She found Letty lying on the sofa where she had been left, wrapped in a rug and with her head upon a silk cushion. She looked, with her face still unnaturally pale, like a tragic heroine whose demise is imminent. Beside her on the table stood a glass of water, the only beam of light penetrating the windows striking it and making both water and glass shimmer.
“How are you feeling?” she asked, trying to infuse a sympathy she did not feel into the words. If the truth be told, she was considerably irritated by the girl’s behaviour, which she thought melodramatic and selfish.
“Empty,” the girl replied in a dull voice.
“Perhaps you should have eaten your luncheon.”
“I did not mean I was hungry,” Letty corrected impatiently. “I am not. I meant that my heart is empty.”
“Oh, I see,” her aunt said untruthfully and with some acerbity for she still thought Letty was making a piece of work of the whole trip, first swearing that she would never love anyone but Archie and now apparently suffering from an ‘empty’ heart.
“I do not think you ‘see’ at all,” Letty snapped, reviving noticeably under what she rightly understood to be criticism.
“I no longer love Archie,” she explained.
“No, I gathered that. I take it you mean that, no longer being filled with Lord Archibald, your heart is now vacant. Is it possible, do you think, that it can – in time – be filled with your betrothed – or will it, in your opinion, remain empty for ever?”
Letitia Or The Convalescent Heart Page 14
