She looked up as John and Jeanetta appeared at the end of the path, arm in arm. “Here are my brother and his wife. Herfamily are a little more conscious of their status. Perhaps you will not be telling themyour story?”
He stood up and gave her his hand to rise too. He was chuckling and shaking his head. “No indeed. But you were such a sympathetic ear, Mistress Horden.”
John and Jeanetta stopped before them. Deborah was touched to see John’s childish shyness asserting itself before a nobleman he scarcely knew. “A bit warm eh?” was all he could manage but Jeanetta had her mother’s loquacity. She seized Lord Branford’s arm and demanded to walk with him. ”For,” said she, “Deborah has had you to herself quite long enough.”
They returned to the house in time for the afternoon refreshments that were always brought into the salon or carried about the house to wherever the family could be found. Deborah suffered John’s teasing and curiosity over what they had talked about for so long. She had no intention of divulging Lord Branford’s story. John would tell it to Jeanetta and then it would be all round the family in no time at all.
She herself was warmed by the encounter. The few men she had met in her life at Horden regarded her with nervous apprehension which developed into jocular familiarity from her brother’s friends or remained a wary ‘keep her at arm’s length’ from slight acquaintances. Everyone in the neighbourhood knew the rumours of her Scottish adventure but didn’t know the full truth. One thing they were sure of was her great learning and were either in awe of it or discounted it as unbecoming a woman.
I find it liberating, she thought, to meet a man who knows nothing about me and rouses in me no physical attraction. Frederick Branford lacks the great height and exuberance of Ranald Gordon, nor has he the flashing black eyes and alluring smile of horrible Edouard le Vent. But he has opened up to me with sweetness and innocence. I see into his heart and there is no guile, no mystery. Can I have a friendship with a man? I have never achieved intimacy with a woman my own age. Grandmother Bel is my only true female confidant at home. I thought I might make a friend here in Sophia de Neury but she is very reticent. Well, Lord Branford will move on and I suppose our paths will not cross again. If Grandmother Bel or his grandfather had plans for us they would drop them sharply after one look at us together.
CHAPTER TEN
Will Smyth had a bed in the dressing-room that adjoined Frederick Branford’s heavily ornate bedchamber. When he came to prepare his lordship for bed they had their first moments of intimacy since Fredrick’s walk in the gardens.
It was at once obvious to Frederick that the usually stolid Will was agog with questions but he still managed to introduce them with circumspection.
“And did you have a pleasant stroll in the grounds, my lord? I believe they are copied from Versailles.”
“Very pleasant.” Mischievously Frederick refused to help Will.
Will busied himself laying out his master’s nightshirt very precisely on the bed. “So would you be thinking of moving on in a few days, my lord, now that you have fulfilled your grandfather’s wish that you call upon the Hordens at their French retreat?”
“I don’t mind how long I stay here,” Frederick chuckled.
Will couldn’t hold back his curiosity any longer. “I was told by the French household, my lord, that Mistress Horden is uncommonly tall. I have not yet set eyes on the lady but surely she is not by any chance –”
“Yes, she is, Will, and a more gracious and forgiving character you could not imagine. She is delightful.”
Will straightened up and looked him in the eye. “My lord, I hope you won’t be taken in. You appreciate that for a lady not in the first flush of youth and of no great social standing you are a very desirable prospect. I am sure she would be only too ready to forgive your unlucky rough handling.”
For the first time in their enforced companionship Frederick snapped back at Will with real anger. “It is no such thing. I would be honoured beyond words if she were to look upon me in that way, but of course I could not so aspire. She is as far above me in her nature as she is in her physical height. She is a goddess among women.”
Will bent hastily to his duties again, murmuring, “I’m sure I beg your pardon, my lord.”
Frederick drew a long, slow breath and calmed himself but said not a word more to Will that night about Deborah Horden. His mind was full of her but Will was not the one to receive his confidences. If only his mother had been here! He would have described to her Deborah’s open, easy manner that surely hid profound emotions, those speaking eyes, suggesting ocean depths, that glorious flaxen crown of hair, her tall, regal figure! He could watch her forever. And he had had the nerve to tell her his story. How had he dared to ramble on so long? But she had listened, commented, asked questions, sympathised. And above all, she had humour, a quality he loved and longed to share. Will Smythe hadn’t a humorous bone in his body. That was why he missed his mother so much. She would smile at the world even if her heart was sad. Deborah Horden was another, he felt sure, whose natural demeanour was cheerfulness. Laughter played about her. He went to his bed and she inhabited his dreams all night.
Deborah meanwhile had taken her chance to speak to Jeanetta alone when she saw her in the glasshouse picking an orange.
“They are so juicy, Deb. Come and try one. I have a craving for them now.”
Deborah took one to eat later with the help of a napkin, a knife and a plate. She couldn’t afford to let the juice dribble down her bodice as Jeanetta was doing.
She asked her straight out, “I believe you wish to keep John with you till the birth of your child. Is that right?”
Jeanetta raised her eyebrows as she squeezed the last of the orange into her mouth. She licked all round her shapely lips and considered the question.
“Oh I want him here for the birth of course though he will die of fright if he is in earshot of my screams.” She cackled uneasily when she said it. “Sophia tells me it may not be as bad as I fear but Maman shrieked horribly when the boys were born for I remember covering my ears with pillows.”
Deborah ignored this. “So you are saying you won’t mind if John and I go away for some weeks before the bad weather makes travelling difficult?”
Jeanetta spread out her hands. “I would have come too but Maman says I shouldn’t be bounced about in a carriage.” She added with a roguish smile, “You’d like to have Lord Branford for company, wouldn’t you? What a pity he’s so short! John and I were laughing at the comical pair you made when you walked ahead of us in the gardens. I’m afraid you’re never going to find a man like that Ranald Gordon John told me about.”
Deborah started and Jeanetta rushed on, “Oh I know he always warned me that you didn’t want to talk about it but surely it doesn’t matter now. It’s so long ago. But how romantic it was! That great big highlander and you rode all night to save him from the gallows and then he got stabbed to death in prison. Such a shame!”
Deborah did notwant to talk about Ranald, certainly not to Jeanetta of all people, but she said in a neutral voice, “He was not strictly a highlander since he was born in Edinburgh. But no, I’ll never meet another man like that. How did you like Lord Branford when you walked back with him?”
Jeanetta took another orange, bit into the peel and spat the piece onto the ground before digging off the rest with her dainty fingernails. “Dreadfully bad for the skin, I’m sure,” she tittered. “Lord Branford? Rather dull, lacks the poise and polish one would expect from a man of his rank. Really hadn’t much to say for himself.”
Deborah turned to go. “Will you tell John then that you don’t mind him leaving you for a while? He seems to think otherwise.”
Jeanetta grinned, dropped the rest of the peel onto the ground and bit squelchily into the pulp. “If you like,” she spluttered.
Returning to the château Deborah met John coming to look for his wife and told him herself what she had just said.
He looked a little f
urtive. “Well, she may saythat, you know. Doesn’t want you to think her anxious. I’ll talk to her. Let you know in a day or two.”
Three days passed in picnics and evening parties laid on especially for Lord Branford and Deborah had no chance of private conversations. On the fourth day she went out alone in the gardens after breakfast and took her book to her rose bower but intended to look out for either John or Lord Branford. It had struck home when Jeanetta had said, “You’d like to travel with Lord Branford too.” She would, very much. If they could make up a party and go together that would be more interesting than with John alone. The Comtesse Diana had pressed Lord Branford to stay longer and meet the comte to whom she had sent a message about his new guest, but his coming, she giggled, would depend on the severity of his gout at the time.
Deborah hadn’t been reading long when she heard footsteps and looked up to see Lord Branford turn briskly off the main walk at sight of her. He came up eagerly. She rose to greet him and he begged leave to join her for a few minutes if he was not interrupting her reading.
They settled down on the seat and he began at once, “Mistress Horden, I have just had a rather odd encounter. I wonder if you can tell me who the gentleman is with a curling black moustache and very black sparkling eyes. Is he one of the family whom I haven’t yet met?”
Deborah shivered. “What! He is here again! No, he is a mysterious visitor who makes me feel decidedly uneasy. Pray tell me how and where you met him.”
“He slipped out of a side door with your brother and the
Vicomte de Neury.”
“With John! Are you sure?”
“Well, I was at a distance, actually admiring the orangery, but I
thought it was your brother. They seemed to be saying goodbye to this strange man and went back into the house. He was turning to pass along by the garden wall when he must have spotted me and he came on to meet me with hat raised and flourishing gestures. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to know him but I stepped out of the glass-house and to my surprise he greeted me by name and asked if all my kinsfolk in Hertfordshire were well when I left. ‘All high Tories I believe, the Branfords,’ he said then. ‘An ancient family. Hertfordshire is a pleasant part of the world and close to the capital. I love your England and of course your wild, beautiful Scotland.’” Deborah started at the words but Lord Branford didn’t notice and went on, “I am afraid I stared at him speechless. He bowed, told me he wished me well on my travels and left me standing there. After a moment to recover my composure I thought I should follow him but he moved very swiftly and I just caught sight of him disappearing through that doorway which I believe leads to the stables.”
“And he will have a servant there holding his horse and he will have vanished as mysteriously as he appeared. Lord Branford, what was the tone of voice in which he said ‘your wild, beautiful Scotland.’”
“That was a little odd too. He lowered his voice and spoke the words liltingly, poetically perhaps.”
“Even reverently?”
“Well yes, as if they were a sort of incantation.”
“Then I am sure they are a code or password and you didn’t
give the right answer so he left you alone.”
“A code! A password? What can you mean, Mistress Horden?” “I am more convinced than ever that he is in the pay of the
English government. He calls himself Edouard le Vent, moving hither and thither like the wind. I’d wager it is not his right name.” “But why would he come here?”
“He seems to know the movements of every English traveller coming to France and they are all suspected of plotting to overthrow the Protestant crown and replace Queen Anne with the young Prince James. He must have learnt some code words used by Jacobites and is trying them out to test people’s innocence. You passed the test and he lost interest in you.”
“But the Vicomte de Neury? How would he be involved?”
“That I don’t understand though I am sure he speaks with him every time he comes. What concerns me is that you say my brother was with him.”
“I certainly thoughtit was your brother but that need not alarm you. If you are right about this man your brother will have passed the test as an innocent traveller like me.”
Deborah felt a chill at her stomach. Was John an innocent traveller? Could he be mixed up in some conspiracy after all? Why was he with the Vicomte de Neury? She knew the Vicomte disliked the English for putting a Dutchman on their throne. Could there be secret movements in France to restore a Catholic Stuart? John had not hidden from her his sense of the rightness of young James’ claim, had even said the French would have to send him with an army to seize the throne.
“I fear my tidings have upset you,” Lord Branford said, getting up. “I would not for the world –”
“No, no, not at all. Pray sit down again and I will tell you how I first met this Monsieur le Vent.” She began to laugh. “It’s my turn to tell youa story.”
He sat down very readily and she felt how pleasant it was to have him there to share her anxiety.
So she described their turbulent crossing to Calais and how she had talked with this seemingly charming man and given him so much free information about her home and family. In the telling she had to reveal that she and John had both been to Scotland when they were younger without explaining any of the circumstances.
“So there wasa connection,” Lord Branford said, “which might have roused his suspicions – added to your relationship to a French Catholic family. So his interest in you and your brother is understandable, but how did he know who Iwas and why should he suppose I was a likely rebel against the crown? He said my family were ‘high Tories.’ How could he know such a thing and what did he deduce from that?”
“He could have found out from the Vicomte that a new English visitor had come here. He would ask your name and I presume he has made it his business to know the allegiance of English nobles. It was the Whigs that were in the ascendancy in Parliament when William was brought in and when the succession was proclaimed for Queen Anne I believe some ‘high Tories’ were doubtful about disposing of the true line so arbitrarily.”
Lord Branford nodded slowly. “I think you may be right.”
He is weighing it up as a good lawyer should, Deborah thought.
“Yes,” he went on, “I recall now my grandfather telling me he spoke in the House of Lords to that effect – that there was irony in the proposal to diverge now from the principle of an hereditary monarchy when we fought Cromwell over that very issue. Of course my grandfather has since accepted that a Stuart would not do unless he renounced his Catholicism.”
“But there you are then. Youare suffering now from the price of fame.”
“It makes me very uncomfortable. I liked being a nobody.”
“I too.” And they sat and laughed together.
Deborah didn’t have to wait for a chance to question John. As soon as she and Lord Branford had returned to the château John sought her out and getting her apart into a corner of the salon hissed in her ear, “Would you believe it, Deb, I’ve met your mysterious MrWind. He must be as you thought in the pay of the government. I suppose de Neury pointed me out to him. He wanted to know – all smiles and flowery gestures of course – why I was at the Battle of Killiecrankie. I more or less said I was kidnapped and made to fight. Well, it’s true. I was so young I didn’t really know what I was doing. I’m sure I satisfied him. Now look, about that other business – when we are to go off travelling again. You were right there too. Netta’s quite happy for us to go so we can set off as soon as you like.”
Deborah was puzzled. Why is he so excited and breathless, she wondered. There is more going on than he is telling me. But if I can get him away from here for a while it can only be a good thing. Maybe le Vent’s questions have alarmed him. Could he have been on the verge of participating in some Jacobite conspiracy that de Neury is hatching?
All she said was, “Shall we go then when Lord Branford a
lso plans to leave? He feels obliged to wait and see if the comte comes but that we should know very soon.”
John grinned at her slyly. “Are you proposing to travel withLord Branford?”
“Not in his carriage of course but we could make up a party. There could be safety in numbers and we might receive more respect as acquaintances of an English lord.”
“We couldn’t afford the places where he will be staying.” “I don’t think he has very grand ideas but we will see.” “Are you smitten with him, Deb? He really is too small for you,
you know.”
“I am notsmitten as you put it but people can be good
company however small they are.”
“Very well. I shall sound him on the subject and make
arrangements.” And he walked off leaving her frustrated that he
had got the upper hand in that conversation when she had
intended to put him through a severe interrogation herself. Next day the comte sent word to Diana that he was obliged to
stay in Versailles and would she give Lord Branford his apologies.
Perhaps the noble lord would return and visit them on his way
back to England after his travels.
Plans were laid then for them to set out in two days’ time and
Deborah looked forward to shaking off the somewhat stultifying
atmosphere of the Château Rombeau.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Frederick Branford took a bold step and informed Will Smyth that they were going to visit the Loire valley.
“But, my lord, we were to be heading south in late August. Your grandfather’s letters will be arriving in Lyons.”
“And they can wait till we arrive. Now that we have made the acquaintance of the Horden brother and sister I would like to pursue our travels together at least for a short while. After a day or two I will propose that they come in my carriage and you, I hope, will not mind accompanying their man Matthew in theirs. As we will drive along together Mistress Horden may be happy for her maid Suzette to travel in the second one with you. We will keep Peter with us along with the hired carriage’s driver in case of trouble and you can have Joseph.”
Prue Phillipson - Hordens of Horden Hall Page 9
