Spoiled

by Barker, Ann

  ‘That is not what my dressmaker tells me,’ Evangeline answered. A little over the average for a woman, she was somewhat sensitive on the subject of her height. ‘You, on the other hand, my dear Amelia, are blooming; positively blooming! What a good colour you have.’

  ‘This is not a social call, as I am sure you must have guessed,’ said Sir Lyle. ‘I need you both to make statements of what happened this morning.’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ Mr Granby agreed. ‘Fortunately, my agent is on the premises. He may act as secretary.’ He rang the bell. ‘I am afraid that my wife has retired to bed after her ordeal. I do hope that you will not want her statement. In any case, she fainted during the hold-up and would not be able to give a full account.’

  Sir Lyle agreed that it would not be necessary to disturb her at present. ‘If the facts of what occurred are disputed by the villains, then she may need to tell what she remembers of the affair at a later date,’ he added. Michael did not say anything. He very much wanted to inspect his lodgings, but knew that these legal matters must come first.

  Mr Granby’s agent soon came in, and readily agreed to act as scribe, with Sir Lyle sitting in as before, to make sure that all was conducted as it should be. ‘You must go first, my angel,’ said Mr Granby. ‘In the meantime, I will take Mr Buckleigh to his accommodation.’ Michael’s cloak bag had been placed ready for him in the hall.

  ‘May I go too, Papa?’ Miss Belton asked. ‘Then I can assure Mama that Mr Buckleigh is comfortably settled. There is nothing I can do here, after all.’

  Evangeline was on the point of leaving the room in front of the agent. She paused briefly, directing a narrowed stare at the other young woman. ‘I hope that you can manage the journey,’ she said in solicitous tones.

  ‘You forget that I am still a country girl, unaffected by London ways,’ Amelia responded, smiling sweetly. Evangeline left with what might almost have been a sniff.

  ‘Yes, by all means,’ Sir Lyle responded, answering his daughter’s question. ‘As long as Granby is willing to take you.’

  ‘Certainly,’ Mr Granby responded. ‘I will send for my coat.’

  Whilst he was doing this, Amelia walked over to Michael’s side. ‘I would so like to be able to picture where you are living,’ she murmured. ‘I hope that I will not be dreadfully in the way.’

  ‘No, not at all,’ Michael responded politely.

  ‘Are we all ready, then?’ asked Mr Granby, as the footman helped him on with his coat. ‘It’s only a short walk.’

  ‘We are walking?’ Miss Belton exclaimed involuntarily, her tone one of consternation.

  ‘Why yes,’ replied Mr Granby. ‘You are very welcome to stay here, if you think it will be too far. The cottage that has been set aside for Mr Buckleigh’s use is just outside Illingham on this side. I suppose the walk there will be a little under two miles.’

  Miss Belton gasped, but made a gallant recovery. ‘That is not such a distance,’ she said in a determinedly cheerful tone. ‘Let us be off, then, gentlemen.’

  In the event, Miss Belton only made it to the bottom of the drive; a fact for which each of the two men privately gave thanks, for her pace was quite irritatingly slow. Indeed, Michael was beginning to wonder whether they would actually make it to Illingham before nightfall. When they got to the gates, however, Miss Belton said brightly, ‘Now I have seen you on your way, I shall wander back to the house, if you have no objection. Mr Granby may describe the cottage to me upon his return.’

  ‘With the greatest of pleasure,’ Granby assured her.

  ‘It has been a pleasure to meet you, Miss Belton,’ said Michael, bowing politely.

  ‘I shall persuade Mama to come and hear you preach on Sunday, never fear,’ she replied, giving him her hand.

  ‘I trust that you will not be disappointed,’ he remarked.

  ‘I don’t think that I could ever be disappointed in you, Mr Buckleigh,’ she said, her eyes sparkling. ‘I will visit you to see your lodgings another day.’

  As soon as the two men had seen her off up the drive, they set out for Illingham, their strides soon matching one another easily. ‘That’s better,’ said Mr Granby. ‘I don’t want to seem ungallant, but I fear we would have made slow progress.’

  Michael made no reply to this, but instead began to ask questions about the land around them, and to whom it belonged.

  ‘My own property is not extensive,’ answered Granby, ‘so very little beyond the park surrounding my home belongs to me. Much of what is around here is part of the Ashbourne estate.’

  ‘You are speaking of Lord Ashbourne, I believe,’ said Michael. ‘I understand that the living of Illingham is partly in his gift.’

  ‘Yes, that is so. Lord Ashbourne and the Bishop of Sheffield make the appointment between them. It’s not a very comfortable arrangement, and in times past the village has sometimes even been without a priest whilst the earl and the bishop have engaged in a private quarrel. But now that Mr Lusty has been appointed, things may quieten down. However …’ He paused for a few moments in indecision, then went on, ‘It is just as well that you should be aware of some of the history surrounding this place. It may prevent you from offending out of ignorance.

  ‘You may remember I told you yesterday that Lady Agatha Rayner, Lord Ashbourne’s sister, was married to the former vicar, The Revd Colin Rayner. She had as her companion a single lady named Miss Warburton. This lady became engaged to Mr Lusty, oh, it must be over a year ago now. She travelled to London to stay with Lusty’s sister, but while there, she renewed her acquaintance with Lord Ashbourne. The next thing that any of us knew was that they had been married privately.’

  ‘I have heard – perhaps mistakenly – that Lord Ashbourne is something of a rake,’ said Michael a little diffidently.

  ‘You are not mistaken,’ answered Granby. ‘He has indeed been a great rake in the past. He is also an exceedingly handsome man, as well as having considerable address.’ He sighed. ‘There was a time when Evangeline was very smitten with him. Fortunately, he did nothing to encourage her, but it was a worry. There are those who predicted that he would soon tire of Miss Warburton once married to her. I have to say that there has been no sign of it so far. They are away in Buxton at present. Lady Ashbourne is expecting a child and his lordship is overseeing her drinking the water. Have you tasted it?’ Buckleigh shook his head. ‘Well, don’t bother: it’s deucedly nasty stuff.

  ‘The landowner you’re more likely to have dealings with is Lord Ashbourne’s son, Viscount Ilam. He lives in the manor house on the main street in Illingham. It is to him that you owe thanks for the cottage in which you are to live, as it belongs to the estate. Ilam’s wife has recently had a child, and they are away visiting Lady Ilam’s parents.’

  ‘Has the child been baptized?’ Michael asked.

  Mr Granby shook his head. ‘No doubt that will be one of your first duties, unless Lusty decides to step in. And here is your cottage.’ He took a key out of his pocket. ‘Our meeting on the road was most fortuitous, but I had been instructed to look out for your arrival and give you the key.’ He handed it over. ‘You may have the honour.’

  As Michael took the key, he reflected that Mr Granby could not possibly have known what this meant to him. In his last two curacies, he had lodged with parishioners, once above a butcher’s shop, the smell of which had risen and drifted into his room on hot days and had often been quite offensive. On the other occasion, he had had no separate room in which to study and had been obliged to sit in a cold, damp church in order to write his sermons. This cottage was the first home that he had ever had to himself. Already, he could imagine having Theodora here with him.

  The inside of the cottage was plain and clean, and neatly furnished with items that seemed to Michael to be of a much better quality than might have been expected in such a dwelling.

  ‘Lady Ilam was responsible for the furnishings,’ Mr Granby explained. ‘Most of them are from the Hall.’

  ‘She has
been very kind,’ said Michael, looking about him at the rug in front of the fireplace flanked by two chairs, the small table next to the window, the reading desk and the bookcase standing against one of the walls. The fire was laid, he noticed, and a big basket was full of logs. There were also several candlesticks in evidence, all with new wax candles in them. ‘I shall need to make arrangements for my trunk to be brought here,’ he went on. ‘Do you have any idea where it will have been taken?’

  ‘Your trunk is upstairs,’ said Mr Granby. ‘Ilam ordered it to be brought here from the Olde Oak on its arrival. Another day, you will have to decide what to do about food. For tonight, I suggest that you unpack in the daylight, then walk back to Granby Park where you may dine with us.’

  ‘You are very good,’ said Michael, shaking the other man’s hand heartily before he left. Then he ran up the stairs two at a time, impatient to see the rest of his new home.

  Chapter Four

  After watching the two men disappear from sight, Miss Belton gave a little sigh at the pleasing vista of the new curate’s retreating figure before wandering slowly back up the drive. Her aim was to get back to the house at about the same time as Evangeline emerged from giving her statement. She wanted to give the impression that she had spent more time in Mr Buckleigh’s company than had really been the case.

  In her own way, Miss Belton had been indulged as much as Miss Granby. She, too, was an only child of well-to-do parents, who were anxious to procure the best for their child. It might be supposed that this would mean that Sir Lyle and Lady Belton would be looking for a title for their daughter; indeed, at one time, they had had hopes of Lord Ilam. But Ilam had married Eustacia Hope and there were no other young titled single gentlemen in the district. Lady Belton’s chief fear was that some gentleman would marry Amelia and whisk her off to a remote part of the country. That was why she had resisted giving her nineteen-year-old daughter a London season. Amelia had no doubt that should her fancy light upon the young clergyman, her mother in particular could be persuaded to welcome him with open arms. As she climbed the steps up to the front door of the house, she pictured Mr Buckleigh in her mind’s eye and decided that her fancy definitely had lit upon him. A penniless curate was not an obviously eligible bridegroom, but he was undoubtedly a gentleman and the very poverty of his circumstances and the nature of his occupation would tie him to the area. As Sir Lyle’s son-in-law, he would soon get his preferment.

  The one stumbling block to her schemes, as far as she could see, was Miss Evangeline Granby. Her looks were spectacular, she had met Mr Buckleigh first and, furthermore, she was in the same parish. It had not been possible to detect whether Miss Granby had set her sights on Mr Buckleigh, but Amelia doubted it. She was, after all, a regular participant in the London season, and probably regarded a curate as being beneath her notice. Nevertheless it would not do to take anything for granted. A little delicate questioning would not come amiss.

  A servant showed her into the drawing room and took her cloak and bonnet. She sat down to leaf through a copy of The Lady’s Magazine, and was thus engaged when Miss Granby returned to the room, having made her statement.

  ‘I am surprised to see you here, Amelia,’ said Evangeline. ‘I thought that you were going to walk to the village with Papa and Mr Buckleigh.’

  ‘I decided that the gentlemen could get on more quickly without me,’ Amelia replied. ‘Did you manage to remember everything about the hold-up to Papa’s satisfaction?’

  ‘I think so,’ Evangeline replied carelessly. ‘It’s a lot of fuss about nothing, in my opinion.’

  ‘Oh? Mr Buckleigh wasn’t particularly gallant, then?’

  ‘Quick and business-like would be a better description, I think. Shall we have some tea? You cannot go until Papa has returned and given his statement as well.’

  Amelia concurred. ‘Mr Buckleigh is very striking in his looks, though, don’t you think?’ she added, with a sideways glance at her hostess.

  Evangeline had thought Michael striking from the moment that she had seen him in Sheffield. At the back of her mind, however, was a determination that no one should suspect her acquaintance with him was of longer duration than it should have been. Perhaps it was for this reason that she said, ‘Striking? I should have thought that odd was a better description. That combination of pale hair and dark brows is almost freakish, don’t you think?’

  Amelia was saved from replying by the arrival of a servant, summoned by the bell. She was satisfied by what she had heard. Evangeline did not have her sights set upon Michael Buckleigh: the field was clear.

  After the servant had left with their order for tea, Amelia drew Evangeline’s attention to something in The Lady’s Magazine and the subject of Mr Buckleigh did not arise again. But Evangeline had very far from dismissed him from her mind. She could not forget how that very morning he had told her that he would watch her for any signs of impropriety. Yet, before the day was even over, he had obviously managed to captivate Amelia Belton. How dared he lecture her!

  It was only after Sir Lyle Belton and his daughter had left that Mr Granby told Evangeline that the curate was dining with them.

  ‘Oh Papa,’ Evangeline exclaimed in tones of consternation.

  ‘Do you dislike him so much, my angel?’ said Granby concernedly.

  ‘Dislike him? No, not really. But it is tiresome to be in the presence of a clergyman and to be constantly upon one’s best behaviour.’

  He smiled indulgently. ‘It is only right to be hospitable. After all, he has only just moved in and has no food in the house.’

  ‘One would not want him to starve. From what I have seen, he appears to need an enormous amount of food to keep him going.’

  ‘He has a big frame,’ Mr Granby agreed. ‘Lord and Lady Ilam have made the cottage very comfortable for him. I should think it will not be long before he sends for his sister.’

  ‘I hope she’s not as big as he is, or there will not be room for both of them in there,’ Evangeline observed dispassionately.

  However tiresome Miss Granby might have said that she found Mr Buckleigh, it did not seem to prevent her from putting forth her best efforts when dressing. The consequence was that when she came downstairs, her appearance was more suitable for a dinner at Carlton House than for a family meal in the provinces. She was wearing a gown of ivory silk, cut very low and trimmed with pearls. Her hair was dressed high, with pearls entwined amongst her glowing blonde locks, and around her neck was a string of exceptionally fine pearls of a very unusual shade of pink. They had been a gift from her father on her come-out, and she was exceedingly proud of them, for she had never seen any like them. She allowed Elsie to drape an ivory silk shawl with a pink swirling pattern and a long fringe about her shoulders, before she left her chamber. She paused on the threshold, seized by a sudden notion. So Mr Buckleigh thought that he could keep an eye on her behaviour, did he? Would this include telling her father if she were to flirt outrageously with some man? What, though, if the man with whom she decided to flirt was Buckleigh himself? It would certainly serve him right if she used her much vaunted charms to enslave him!

  She had not planned to make any kind of an entrance, but it so happened that as she was descending the staircase, Mr Buckleigh was being shown into the hall, having been relieved of his coat and hat. He stood watching her, his head thrown back. He was dressed all in black as befitted his calling, his neck-cloth plain and snowy white, his blond hair caught behind his head with a black satin bow. There was a natural grace in his stance, a slight smile played about his well-shaped lips, and those starkly contrasting dark brows were raised.

  Suddenly, she was transported back to Lord and Lady Ashbourne’s reception which they had held to celebrate their marriage. It had been a dazzling affair with dancing in the great ballroom, lavish refreshments, cards in one of the drawing rooms and the opportunity to stroll in the conservatory or on the terrace for those who wished to do so. Evangeline had been talking in the ballroom with he
r friend Lady Ilam, and Lord Ashbourne had been standing nearby, exchanging words with one of his guests. Then, as Evangeline was looking at him and reflecting that no man had the right to be so attractive, an arrested look had crossed his features. Following the direction of his gaze, she had seen the new Lady Ashbourne descending the stairs.

  There were those who in the past had described Miss Jessie Warburton as plain. The woman approaching them was elegant, glowing and transparently in love with her husband. Observing Lord Ashbourne’s face, Evangeline had seen that he felt exactly the same.

  Now, looking down at Michael Buckleigh, she found herself thinking, why, he is just like Lord Ashbourne. Then her father entered the hall and spoke to the curate, the young man turned, the likeness was gone, and she wondered whether she had imagined it.

  ‘My goodness, Evangeline,’ said her father, seeing his daughter’s splendour. ‘You do us too much honour this evening.’ He himself was dressed for evening with propriety, in knee breeches and coat of grey cloth and a maroon waistcoat.

  Evangeline reached the bottom of the flight and looked up at Michael Buckleigh. She had forgotten how tall he was. ‘I cannot see the point of having lovely clothes and not wearing them,’ she said. ‘To discard things that have not been used must be sinful, and I am sure that Mr Buckleigh must disapprove of sin.’

  ‘Undoubtedly,’ Michael answered, lifting her hand to his lips and directing a glance at her that only she could see. If he were honest with himself, she had taken his breath away and ignited the powerful surge of desire that she had seemed to kindle within him from the very beginning of their acquaintance.

  During the course of the evening, Buckleigh wished more than once that there might have been twenty guests and a room full of people. Even the presence of Mrs Granby would have helped, but she had still felt too unwell to come downstairs. It was only with extreme difficulty that he prevented himself from leering at Miss Granby’s well-displayed bosom. She had no business to be exposing herself in such a way at such an event. It was more than any red-blooded man could stand!