“She’s a bit skittish, my Lady,” Ned said, holding Bluebell steady as Charles helped her up into the saddle.
“Be careful, my Lady,” urged Charles, as Novella dug her heels into Bluebell’s side – and she had the distinct feeling he was not only referring to the ride ahead of her.
*
Once Novella was out of the grounds of Crownley Hall, she felt an immense load lifting from her shoulders. Racing across the fields was good for her and she became more of her old self.
‘Out here, I feel free,’ she thought, as the gates of Sir Edward’s house came into view.
It was not as grand as Crownley Hall, but still possessed a graceful air. The Moretons were an old family who lived off their ancestors’ fortune made in the British Empire. Sir Edward’s grandfather had worked for the East India Company.
Novella had always longed to see Tithehurst and, as Bluebell trotted through the gates, she could see Sir Edward standing at the front of the house as if waiting for someone.
“Lady Novella!” he shouted in greeting, a brilliant smile on his face. “Proceed to the stables, you will find them behind the house. Salamander is waiting for you!”
A groom came rushing up to her as she drew up to the stables and caught Bluebell by the bridle.
“Where is Salamander?” she asked breathlessly, as she climbed down.
“In the stall at the far end, my Lady,” said the groom, leading Bluebell away for a tasty bundle of hay and a bucket of water.
“Salamander! Salamander!” cried Novella, anxiously scanning the stables for her horse.
A loud whinny alerted her to the presence of her favourite steed. He poked his head out of the stable door and whinnied once more.
“Salamander!”
Novella did not wait, she ran up to the horse and threw her arms around his strong neck. He was clearly as delighted to see her as she was him.
“You beautiful, wonderful darling!” she called, crying with joy, “I have missed you so much”
“In that case, you must come and see him as often as you can. As you can see, he is a very healthy chap,” came a voice from behind her.
Novella turned to see Sir Edward, looking incredibly handsome in his riding gear, standing there.
“Why, thank you very much,” replied Novella, quite taken aback.
‘He is not at all like my stepfather,’ she thought, as Sir Edward produced a carrot from his pocket and fed it to Salamander. ‘He is so kind and thoughtful.’
As if he read her mind, Sir Edward chuckled before saying,
“You might wonder how I know Lord Buckton when there are so many years between us. I was at school with his nephew, John. We used to spend the summers at the Buckton’s old estate – ”
“The estate which he sold when he married Mama,” added Novella. “Although there is precious little evidence of the money he must have gained from that deal – ”
Sir Edward gave a wry smile.
“I expect you are eager to take Salamander out. Come, my horse is ready and it will not take long for him to be saddled up.”
Novella did not need any further encouragement. She followed Sir Edward to the front of the stables where she would mount her horse.
“My saddle!” she cried, upon seeing Salamander sporting the very same one that Sir Edward had taken away only a few days previously.
“I did try to explain, Lady Novella, that I was only taking it so that you might ride him, but I think you feared the worst and so I didn’t get a chance to tell you.”
‘I am a silly fool,’ she thought, as she climbed up onto the box that had been brought out to help her mount.
Presently, the groom brought round a fine, coal-black stallion for Sir Edward.
“Shall we head for the river?” he asked, settling down in the saddle.
One touch of Novella’s whip and Salamander was off!
As they galloped across the fields, Salamander was yards ahead of Sir Edward’s mount.
“Come on, boy,” urged Novella, as she saw the silvery line of the river in the distance.
Half an hour later, she arrived at the river with Sir Edward still trailing behind her. Salamander was dripping with sweat as Novella jumped down and then led him towards the cool water.
“There you are, my boy, drink all you can.”
“I am afraid I cannot keep up with you!” puffed Sir Edward, dismounting, “you are a very fine horsewoman, Lady Novella.”
“Please, just call me Novella” she told him smiling, “there is no need to be so formal up here.”
Leaving Salamander drinking in the river, Novella walked along the grassy banks.
“I have so many happy memories of this place.”
“I also,” admitted Sir Edward, coming alongside her.
“Papa used to bring me here every summer whenever he had the time. We would swim and have a picnic. Up here, he was not the Earl but a father enjoying time with his daughter.”
“You must miss him very much,” ventured Sir Edward.
“Yes, I do. And now I fear for Mama – she is not at all well.”
“You have called the doctor, of course?”
“He came to the Hall but could not help Mama. So I have sent for a specialist from London – a Doctor von Haydn. I am waiting for him to attend Mama – ”
“Do you think it is serious?”
“I know it is as otherwise Doctor Jones would have been able to treat her. I confess I fear the worst.”
Sir Edward gazed at her intently, his greeny-grey eyes full of concern.
“How are you managing?”
“You mean now that my stepfather has dismissed most of the servants?”
“I – ”
“There is no need to apologise, Sir Edward, I realise that the situation at the Hall is common knowledge around the village and beyond. I discovered that upon visiting some of the local tradesmen.”
“Lord Buckton is a man who is fond of the material things in life.”
“He cares nothing for Mama! That much I do know.”
By now, Novella was close to tears. Sir Edward advanced slowly towards her, almost as if he was about to take her hand and then he stopped short.
Novella continued to talk, so grateful at having a sympathetic ear.
“It is obvious that my stepfather dislikes me intensely, but that does not prevent him from attempting to obtain my money. Papa left enough for Mama and me to live in comfort, but we find ourselves far from that blissful state.”
Sir Edward paused and then spoke,
“It is always difficult when a parent remarries. I have friends who have found themselves in most awkward situations after such an event. Fortunately, after my mother died, my father had no wish to spend his life with any other and he remained a grieving widower until he died. It was a huge shock when he passed away and I was not ready for the responsibility of running a house and these modest grounds. I cannot imagine how you must feel with the burden of Crownley Hall upon your shoulders.”
Novella looked at Sir Edward and a sudden tenderness sprang into her heart.
“You seem to understand how I feel about Crownley Hall – ” she murmured.
“It is obvious to anyone who meets you that you love the Hall as much as you do your Mama and Salamander!”
Sir Edward laughed as he patted Salamander on the flank, as he was grazing contentedly on the river bank.
It had been a long time since Novella had felt so happy – and she found herself completely at ease in Sir Edward’s company.
Novella was well aware that she had little experience of dealing socially with the opposite sex outside of friendship. There had been a few would-be suitors who called at her lodgings at the school, but her maid had always sent them away, saying she was not at home.
Novella had never been in love and she could not imagine what it might feel like.
But standing on the riverbank, watching Sir Edward playing with Salamander, she felt a mysterious yearning
in her heart that she could not explain.
‘I must not indulge myself in silly notions,’ she thought, shaking herself. ‘I must not allow myself to be distracted from Mama and Crownley Hall.’
Nevertheless, she could not deny that she felt a strange, haunting longing and a secret thrill at being in Sir Edward’s company.
“We should be moving on,” she suggested, drawing Salamander close to her, “will you please help me up?”
After a long and exhausting ride, the sun began to sink in the sky and Sir Edward suggested that they should return to Tithehurst.
“It is growing late,” he told her, “and you have to ride home afterwards.”
They rode back in silence with Novella in turmoil. She could not understand why she felt so – was it just because she had not ridden Salamander for so long or was it something to do with Sir Edward?
“Would you care to stay for tea?” asked Sir Edward, as they rode through the gates of Tithehurst.
“I should return to the Hall,” replied Novella, “in case Doctor von Haydn has arrived.”
“In that case, you must promise me that you will come again. You are free to ride Salamander whenever you please.”
It was with a heavy heart and a few tears that Novella said goodbye to Salamander.
“I will come again soon, I promise you,” she breathed, stroking his silky mane.
She said a hasty farewell to Sir Edward and then climbed back onto Bluebell.
“Come on, girl,” she entreated, as the mare trotted towards Crownley Hall.
‘After Salamander, I feel as if I am mounted on a garden slug,’ sighed Novella, trying her best to coax Bluebell to go faster.
*
Arriving back at Crownley Hall, Novella felt herself to be utterly spent. Until she climbed down from Bluebell, she had not realised how unfit she had become.
‘I will return to Salamander,’ she resolved, ‘I cannot leave it so long again.’
Walking back towards the house, Novella noticed that Mr. Gross’s cart was no longer standing outside.
‘How strange,’ she thought. ‘Surely he was not put off by my stepfather?’
The answer soon became apparent, as no sooner had she stepped inside, than Lord Buckton had appeared in the doorway of the drawing room holding a fine new cane that Novella had not seen before.
“What was the meaning of that builder prowling around the Tower this afternoon?” he growled before she had a chance to greet him.
Drawing herself up to her full height, Novella replied,
“I have paid Mr. Gross in advance to take the broken gargoyles away so that he could carve some new ones.”
“Well, you can go straight there tomorrow and take them back! Tell him that we have no need of his over-priced services.”
“Sir, you have no right!” she fumed, “as I am paying the bills, I fail to see what concern it is of yours what I do to the house.”
“How dare you!” he raged, coming towards her in a most threatening manner. “How dare you commission these people without my say-so. I am the man of Crownley Hall, not you. Kindly remember that in future.”
“It is my money and I will do with it what I will and if I wish to spend it on the house rather than fine gowns, then that is my concern. I was here long before you, Lord Buckton, and I do not see you hurrying to repair the Hall when it is falling down around your ears.”
“You will do as I say.” bawled Lord Buckton, throwing his silver-topped cane down the hallway at her. “I have warned you before about this ridiculous attempt to keep from me what is mine by rights. If you have money to throw around, then, as your guardian, I am entitled to take it from you.”
Novella found herself frozen to the spot. She was exhausted from her ride and was unable to move. Lord Buckton began to stride towards her, but suddenly the loud clattering of the doorbell interrupted them.
“Is Lady Novella Crownley at home?”
A wave of relief swept over Novella as she heard the heavily accented voice. It could be no one but Doctor von Haydn.
“Please, come in, doctor! I am so glad to see you!” cried Novella, rushing forward to greet him.
She shook his hand warmly and immediately liked the look of the small, rounded gentleman in the tall hat and checked overcoat. He carried a black bag and leaned forward, as if in a hurry, when he walked.
As Novella passed Lord Buckton, he grabbed her.
“I will deal with you later, you can be certain of that,” he growled in a low menacing voice.
“Please come with me, doctor,” invited Novella, trying not to show how shaken she was. “Mama is upstairs.”
She could feel Lord Buckton’s eyes boring into her back as she accompanied the doctor to her mother’s room.
‘I am in serious trouble,’ she thought, as she closed the door behind her, ‘very serious trouble indeed.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
Novella waited patiently outside her mother’s room while Doctor von Haydn was inside examining her.
With her stepfather’s words ringing in her ears, she eerily recalled how her old maid Sally had feared that both her and her mother’s lives were in danger.
What was it she said?
‘Lord Buckton will stop at nothing to get his hands on the Hall.’
‘Surely, he would not stoop to murder?’ she thought again, as she paced up and down the corridor. ‘Perhaps Mama’s illness has been brought upon her by some dastardly means!’
And so, Novella’s mind ran riot until the moment that Doctor von Haydn opened the door and beckoned her forth.
“My Lady, I am afraid it is not good news. Your mother has a tumour – quite a rare kind, too. It is on her lungs and I am afraid that it is too far gone for me to be able to help. All she needs now is round-the-clock nursing and a good diet – and your prayers, of course.”
Novella went white with shock.
“Will – will Mama die?”
“The prognosis is not good. But we can always hope for a miracle. Whatever she asks for, however strange, do not hesitate to let her have it.”
“Oh, Mama. No! No!” cried Novella, “I only lost my Papa two years ago and now this. It is too much!”
She broke into sobs and the poor doctor did not know what he should do with her. He stood there, quite stiff, about a yard away from her.
“Shall I send for the maid?” he asked, as he watched the young girl crying.
“No, no, I shall be all right presently,” whimpered Novella, pulling herself together. “Your news does not come as a complete surprise. It is just so hard to hear you say the words.”
“I understand, my Lady. Now, if there is anything else I can do for you, you must send for me urgently. Should her Ladyship become worse, I will come at once.”
“Thank you so very much, doctor,” replied Novella, feeling a little stupid for having such wild imaginings about her stepfather.
Novella saw him to the door and as she did so noticed that Charles was outside.
“Did Lord Buckton say when he might be back?”
“Yes, my Lady – tomorrow morning, I believe.”
Walking back inside, Novella was angry.
‘Most likely he has gone to visit his lady-friend,’ she fumed, returning to her mother’s bedroom. ‘The man has not one shred of decency in his entire body!’
Mrs. Armitage was back at the Countess’s side, so Novella simply kissed her sleeping mother and retired for the night.
‘I shall engage a nurse and buy her whatever she needs,’ she resolved, as she brushed out her long hair. ‘Mama shall not want for anything while I have it in my power to grant it.’
*
The next day passed slowly. Novella found herself unable to concentrate on anything for very long and it was not just because her mother was becoming progressively worse.
As the long afternoon wore on, she found herself thinking more and more about Sir Edward Moreton.
‘He certainly cut a fine figure on a
horse,’ she mused, as she remembered him astride his handsome, black stallion.
Novella admired good horsemen – her father had been almost without equal in the County and she had been put upon a horse before she could barely walk.
‘I almost do not mind a man such as Sir Edward buying our horses now I have seen how much he cares for them,’ she thought, as she sat idly in the drawing room.
‘My stepfather may have ill-treated them and I could not have borne that.’
She allowed the book she was attempting to read fall into her lap and began to daydream. She relived each second she had spent on Salamander and the conversation she had so enjoyed with Sir Edward.
‘He seemed to really understand my predicament,’ she said to herself, ‘I have never felt so comfortable with anyone outside of my own family.’
And then she realised what she had been dreaming and picked her book up once more.
It was a torrid tale by Mrs. Henry Wood about a village not unlike Crownley and an estate not unlike that of the Hall.
As she read the story of how one Lady Isabel only discovered how much she loved her husband once terrible calamity had befallen her, Novella put it back down again, puzzling furiously to herself.
‘Is that how love can be? That one can be unaware of how much a person means to you until they are out of one’s reach? Oh, how I wish Mama was well and she could explain why I feel so upset today.’
It did indeed occur to her that perhaps she might be entertaining a secret desire for Sir Edward.
‘How would I feel if he suddenly announced that he was to be married? Would I, too, as Lady Isabel does in the story, only realise when it was too late, that I cared for him?’
She sighed heavily and then became quite cross with herself.
‘But this is only a stupid story and I cannot imagine that love is like that. How silly. I am sure I should know when I was in love with someone and when I was not.’
She was grateful that her stepfather had yet to return – it had made luncheon, although frugal, much more pleasant. Novella hoped fervently that he would still be out for dinner, although it made her blood boil that he was so faithless to her mother at a time when she most needed him.
In fact, she had avoided going into her mother’s room that day unless she knew she was asleep – for each time, the Countess asked for her husband and Novella was forced to lie and say he was in Stockington.
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