by Anne Herries
water and indeed, the very stones that form hills and mountains—and that these twin forces are
harnessed by us for either the benefit or the destruction of mankind. There may be certain places
on this earth where these forces are more strongly concentrated, for instance where there are
ancient woods and water...'
'Then do you deny God?'
'No, certainly not,' Harry said, 'for what is our God other than the greatest force for good known to
mankind?'
'And the Devil?' asked Olivia. 'Is he also a formless force?'
'You are thinking of the horned beast?' Harry nodded and smiled. 'I dare say this force could
manifest itself in whatever form it chose—perhaps its most dangerous would be the shape of a
beautiful woman. Think of Jezebel, Delilah and Salome...'
'You rogue, Harry!' Beatrice cried. 'I vow there have been as many evil men in history as women
— you have only to remember that it was a man who condemned Our Lord to death, and a woman
he chose to show himself to after the Resurrection.'
'I would not deny it,' Harry replied. 'The fact that God sent our Saviour to us in our own form only
confirms my belief in the ability of these forces to take what shape they like. Our Lord came to
show us the way, and his message was one of goodness and love. How better can any of us serve
our fellow creatures than by doing good and treating others less fortunate than ourselves with
kindness?'
Olivia was clearly much struck by his words. Could this truly be the man she had declared to have
no depth of soul? Beatrice thought that perhaps his depth of soul and sensitivity was such that they
needed to be protected from a mocking world, that perhaps Harry mocked the world lest the world
mock him.
'I see I have given you food for thought.' Beatrice smiled. 'Well, I have work to do.' She turned as
Harry coughed. 'Are you well, my lord? Were you comfortable last night? You have not taken
another chill?'
'I was very comfortable, thank you,' Harry said, smiling at her concern. He had thrown off his
serious mood and was once again the man of society manners. 'This cough is a little irritating, but I
dare say it will clear in time. I am quite well now. I have a very strong constitution, you know. In
fact I am hardly ever ill.'
'I have some syrup of rose-hips that may ease your throat,' Beatrice said. 'I shall fetch it at once.'
She went to the door and was met by Lily, who had been about to knock.
'A note has been sent down from Jaffrey House, miss. It is addressed to Miss Olivia.'
'You may take it in to her.'
Beatrice was thoughtful as she hurried away. If Harry was right...then the feeling of horror she had
experienced in those tumbledown buildings at the Abbey might have more significance than she
knew.
She shook her head, trying to rid herself of a feeling of foreboding. She had experienced it the
night she first visited the Abbey, and it had come to her a few times since.
But this was all nonsense! Harry had probably been mocking them again!
Beatrice went to the stillroom and brought back a small blue bottle and a glass. She poured a
measure into it, handing it to Harry, who sipped it cautiously then smiled as he found it both
soothing and pleasant.
Olivia looked up from the note she had been reading, an expression of pleasure in her eyes.
'Lady Sophia has asked me to take tea with her this afternoon,' she said. 'Is' that not thoughtful of
her?'
'Yes, very kind,' Beatrice replied. She saw at once how much the thoughtful gesture had meant to
her sister. 'Perhaps Lord Ravensden will send you in his carriage if the rain keeps up?'
'Yes, of course Olivia may have the carriage,' Harry agreed and frowned because she had used his
title, not his name. Now what bee had she got in her bonnet? 'Were you not also invited, Beatrice?'
'Lady Sophia is more Olivia's age,' Beatrice said, avoiding his intent gaze. 'In the past Papa has
turned down many kind invitations from the Earl and his family. We could not repay their
hospitality, you see, and Papa will not accept charity. Except for the logs, of course, which he
does not know about, so cannot hurt him. Besides, I have much to do...'
'I have an errand in Northampton,' Lord Dawlish said suddenly. 'Will you bear me company,
Harry?'
'What?' Harry seemed lost in thought. 'Yes, yes, of course, Percy.' He glanced at Beatrice. 'I dare
say you will be glad of a few hours to yourself?'
'Yes...' She managed a smile. She could not say what was in her heart, so it seemed best not to say
anything. 'Please excuse me.'
She left them and went upstairs to help Lily turn out the bedrooms. However, that done, Beatrice
changed her gown and went back to the parlour. It seemed very empty. She thought wistfully how
very pleasant the last few days had been with so much company in the house.
She would miss Olivia if she married Harry. Oh, she must not think of him that way! It could only
increase her pain. And she was definitely in pain. She had allowed herself to love Harry
Ravensden, and now she must suffer for it. What a fool she was!
It was time she wrote to Mrs Guarding and inquired if there might be a position at the school for
her— perhaps in the spring. She opened her pretty black and red japanned writing-box and took
out her pen, then dipped it into the ink. Having finished her letter a few minutes later, she read it
through but did not seal it with wax. It might be best if she spoke to Papa before she sent it off.
She went over to the pianoforte, sat down on the stool and began to play a sad, haunting melody
that made the tears rush to her eyes. She stopped abruptly as the feeling of hopelessness almost
overwhelmed her. What was she going to do?
'Oh, why have you stopped?' a woman's voice asked, and she turned round, .startled to see a
stranger in the doorway. A very attractive, elegant lady in her autumn years. 'That was delightful,
Miss Roade. You are Miss Roade, of course. Mrs Willow said I would find you here, my dear.'
Beatrice rose to her feet, a little disconcerted. She had never seen this lady before, but somehow
felt she knew her...there was something about the eyes, and the soft, generous mouth.
'Forgive me...I do not know who...'
'How foolish of me.' The woman's laughter tinkled like wind bells on a summer-breeze. 'Mrs
Willow would have announced me, but I heard you playing and crept in so as not to disturb you.
There was such feeling in your playing, I was caught by it. I am Ravensden's mother, Miss Roade.'
Yes, of course! She could see the likeness now.
'Lady Ravensden?' Beatrice was suddenly thrust into action. She went forward to welcome her
guest. 'Oh, please, do come in. Where are my manners? You must be frozen. Thank goodness we
have a decent fire to warm you. I dare say you are exhausted after your journey.'
'Please, no formality. By choice I am Lady Susanna to my friends.' Her smile lit up her face. 'What
a sweet girl you are! I have descended on you with no warning, and yet you welcome me with
open arms.'
'You were worried about Harry—I mean Lord Ravensden,' said Beatrice, tears stinging her eyes
once more. How very missish of her. She blinked them away. 'Of course, you had to come.'
'Lady Dawlish sent round to my London house the moment she heard from her husband. She said
&
nbsp; my son had been ill?'
'Yes, indeed. He was very ill, distressingly so,' Beatrice said, all subterfuge gone as she saw the
anxiety in Lady Susanna's eyes. 'I was very worried about him for a time. Pray do sit down, my
lady. My aunt will no doubt bring us some tea in a moment— you would prefer tea to wine?'
'Yes, thank you, my dear. Please do go on. You were telling me about Harry's illness.'
'He caught a chill,' Beatrice said. 'He was ill during the night he first arrived, but we did not
realise until the next morning. We sent for Dr Pettifer at once, and we did all we could to ease
him. He was in a fever for three days, but then it broke and he recovered his strength very quickly.
He still has a cough, but he is much better now.'
'Harry always was strong,' his mother said. 'He caught scarlet fever as a boy—from one of the
grooms. He was forever playing in the stables! He was very ill and so was his sister Elizabeth.
She...died, but Harry recovered and was none the worse. Thank God! I feared that I would lose
them both.'
'Oh, so that's who Lillibet was,' Beatrice said as a flash of understanding came. 'In his fever he
talked of her and said that it should have been him who died. It seemed to trouble him a great
deal.'
'Did he say that he ought to have died in her place?' Lady Susanna stared at her. 'You are quite
certain, Miss Roade?'
'Yes. Quite certain. Why? Is it important?'
Lady Susanna nodded. 'Perhaps. I have wondered if he might have blamed himself for his sister's
death. He was so very fond of her. We all were, of course, but Harry worshipped her. They were
inseparable as children, and I do not believe he was ever quite the same afterwards.'
Beatrice saw the sadness in her eyes. 'Yes, of course. You must all have felt it dreadfully...the loss
of a child. Little angel, that's what Harry called her.'
'Indeed she was,' Lady Susanna said. 'I dare say that's why she was taken so young—she was too
good for this world.'
They sat in silence for a moment, then Lady Susanna smiled. Her smile was so very like Harry's.
'Well, it was a long time ago, Miss Roade. We must think of the future. Pray tell me what my son
has done to make your sister cry off? I am sure he must have said something careless. He does
have a wicked sense of humour.'
'Indeed, he does at times,' Beatrice agreed, with a look that betrayed much more than she knew.
'But it truly was not all his fault. You must not blame him too much. He told a friend in confidence
that it was not a love match, but someone overheard and added malicious lies to the tale. Olivia
was very upset.'
'Naturally, as any young lady would be in her place.' Lady Susanna frowned. 'I dare say we know
who spread these lies. You may not have heard of Harry's cousin, Sir Peregrine Quindon. He is a
most unpleasant man.'
'He was here yesterday,' Beatrice said. 'He told us he had come because you were anxious about
Lord Ravensden and begged him to search for Harry.'
'Indeed, I was anxious when I heard all the stories circulating,' Harry's mother replied. 'But I did
not ask that odious little toad to search for Ravensden. I would not trust him in such a case. He
envies my son his fortune and title.'
'Yes, that was obvious,' Beatrice agreed. She liked Harry's mother, she liked her very much. 'I am
certain Harry knows it...' She paused, blushing as she realised she had used Lord Ravensden's
name yet again. 'Forgive me for being so familiar. You must think it strange, but we have been
living so close...almost as a family. We are all on first-name terms. But I ought to remember Lord
Ravensden's title when addressing a member of his family. It is very wrong of me to presume so
much. I do beg your pardon.'
'No, no, my dear, not at all. It is pleasant to hear that Harry has such good friends,' his mother said.
'Sometimes he seems to take nothing seriously—like me, I fear.' She looked pensive. 'Yes, he can
be very like me at times.'
'There can be nothing to complain of in that, I am sure.'
Lady Susanna shook her head. 'When the head will not let the heart rule, much can be wrong,' she
said. 'I must tell you in confidence...'
They were interrupted by the sound of voices outside in the hall, and then the door opened and
Harry, Lord Dawlish and Olivia came in together, all laughing and obviously on the best of terms.
They all halted and stared in astonishment as they saw Lady Susanna.
'Mama!' Harry looked astounded as he saw her. 'What are you doing here?'
'Lady Susanna,' Percy said, seeming less surprised than his friend. 'Glad to see you. Devilish cold
out this afternoon.'
'Lady Susanna...' Olivia blushed and made a slight curtsey, obviously a little embarrassed by the
unexpected encounter.
Harry crossed the room and kissed his mother's cheek. 'It was good of you to be concerned for me,
Mama, but you should not have come all this way in this weather.'
'Won't like the inn I'm staying at,' Percy said with a frown. 'Very noisy in the mornings.'
'But Lady Susanna will stay here,' Beatrice said at once. 'You can take my room, Lord Ravensden.
I shall move in with Olivia—and Lady Susanna may have your room. It is the best, so I am certain
you will not mind moving once more.'
'It is not I who will suffer the inconvenience,' Harry said, his eyes warm with approval. 'But if you
are certain you do not mind?'
'Of course not. We could not think of sending Lady Susanna to the inn. She will be more
comfortable here with us.'
'Then I shall say no more,' Harry said. He smiled at her, then turned to his mother. 'I have been
shopping this afternoon, Mama. I have discovered a very good linen draper by the name of
Hammond in Northampton, and I have bought several rolls of material. I hope they will please
you. I shall show them to you later.'
Lady Susanna looked surprised. 'That was very thoughtful of you, Ravensden.'
'I have also brought gifts for everyone here,' Harry said. 'I bought you a fan and a book of poems,
Olivia. For Mrs Willow I have a roll of good woollen cloth in a deep blue colour. I do hope she
may find it acceptable. For Percy I bought a pair of York tan gloves. For Mr Roade a case of good
port and another of Madeira. For Lily and Ida there are warm shawls. For Bellows a new pair of
boots, he gave me his size...' He paused and glanced at Beatrice. 'I bought Miss Roade a new
gown. Mrs Willow lent me one of your old ones yesterday, Beatrice, and the seamstress altered
something she had made up previously to your measurements. She assured me it would fit you
perfectly.'
Beatrice blushed fiercely. Oh, the wicked, devious man! He had gone to so much trouble to cover
his kindness, knowing that she would have refused such a gift had he tried to give it to her without
having bought presents for everyone else. His thoughtfulness touched her, and she could only
shake her head at him.
'You must have spent a great deal of money, my lord.'
'It was just something to do on a wet afternoon,' Harry said. 'Your family has received me—and
my entire family—with such kindness and generosity. I wanted to give each of you some small
token in return.'
'And so I should think,' Percy said, who had obviously been in on the conspiracy all the time.
'Bought a few gifts mysel
f, Miss Roade. Just gloves and perfumes, you know. Not-much good at
choosing frippery. Usually leave all that to Merry. Very clever at it.' He looked thoughtful. 'Tell
you what, dine with you all tonight, then leave for London in the morning. All right and tight now.
Don't need me getting in the way, and Lady Dawlish will be missing me.'
'Yes.' Harry grinned at him. 'Another day and we shall have Merry dashing down here to see
where you are. You had best go home and set her mind at rest, Percy.'
'Just what I thought,' his friend said and smiled a little secret smile to himself.
'Well, I must speak to Lily and make arrangements for dinner this evening,' Beatrice said. She
glanced round the room at all the smiling, happy faces. 'How pleasant it will be this evening. We
shall miss you when you leave, Lord Dawlish.'
'Sorry to leave, Miss Roade, but I dare say we shall be seeing each other often enough in future.'
She could not help feeling a little wistful. It had been so very pleasant these past few days, and the
house would seem quiet when they had all gone.
Beatrice nodded but said nothing more as she went out. She supposed that Olivia might ask her to
stay once she was married to Lord Ravensden. She must remember to call him by his title! No
doubt she might meet both Lord and Lady Dawlish one day. But it would not be the same. Nothing
would ever be the same after Harry married Olivia. She could not expect it.
Beatrice left Lily to finish the preparations for dinner and went up to the room she was once again
sharing with Olivia. Her sister was already changing into a pretty blue gown. An emerald green
silk gown was lying on the bed.
'That must have been made by a French modiste,' Olivia remarked. 'It is quite lovely, Beatrice,
and it will suit you. Harry has chosen well—but he is known for having exquisite taste. His house
in London is magnificent. I visited only once, but everything is so beautiful.'
Beatrice looked at the gown, then reached out to touch it reverently with her fingertips. She had
never in her life owned or worn anything as elegant. Olivia watched her as she hesitated, seeming
almost afraid to pick it up.
'Put it on,' she urged. 'He bought it for you. He wants you to have it. You cannot refuse when he
went to so much trouble. That would be churlish, Beatrice.'
