It was a splendid house, gleaming softly golden in the late evening sun and surrounded by beautiful grounds and gardens.
Ravina could tell from all the activity outside the beautiful porticoed front door that the servants’ coach had arrived.
She could see Nanny Johnson being helped up the steps by a footman. By rights she should have gone to the servants’ entrance with the others, but no one would dare say so to the old lady, especially not Ravina.
“Ravina, my dear – how lovely to see you again. It has been too long.”
Dulcie came running down the front steps to greet her – a tall, thin, dark-haired woman wearing a dark blue dress, cut very severely with only slight touches of white lace at her collar and cuffs.
The thin chain belt around her waist carried all the various keys and necessities of her role as housekeeper.
Although she was only twenty-eight, her recent troubled life had left its mark. There were a few premature grey hairs and a small frown constantly marred her pleasant kindly features.
Two years previously, on the sudden death of her father, Dulcie had been left alone and destitute.
She was deeply grateful to Lord Ashley for rescuing her from a life of poverty and establishing her at the Hall, where she now had a home and a small income.
“Dulcie. Oh, I am so glad to be here. You are looking very well.”
“You are late. I was beginning to worry. Did you have trouble with the carriage?”
Ravina slipped her arm through her cousin’s as they mounted the steps to the front door.
“Oh, no. The journey was quite uneventful.”
She stood for a long moment as she entered the hall, taking in with renewed pleasure the polished parquet floor and the great staircase.
Deep bowls of blue and white china full of heavy headed roses stood on small inlaid tables. A familiar scent hung in the air, telling Ravina that she was indeed home once more.
“My dear Dulcie, I must tell you – such a joke –I was late because I had a passenger. I was bringing Sir Michael Moore down from London to the Priory.”
Dulcie turned to tidy away a few rose petals that had fallen from a vase.
“Sir Michael is back home again, is he? That is good news for the district. He is much admired locally for all his good works for the poor of the County. But was it wise for you to travel with him on your own, Ravina? You know how people talk.”
Ravina tossed her head.
“Oh, people. What do I care about people? Anyway, it was all very proper. Goodness, we had George with us all the way down and stopped for refreshment at a large hotel. Nothing could have been more refined.”
She pushed away the memory of Sir Richard Crawford’s sarcastic comments about her behaviour. Dulcie definitely did not need to know about that particular meeting!
“Anyway, I like Sir Michael. He has asked me to go over to the Priory for lunch tomorrow and advise about his restoration ideas before he throws a ball. I admit I am quite looking forward to helping him.”
Dulcie looked up startled, biting her lip.
‘He wants you to – ?’
She stopped, as if lost for words, before continuing,
‘Well, I am sure you will have lots of modern London ideas to suggest. I have met Sir Michael in Rosbourne and he mentioned that he is eager to restore the Priory to its former glory.
“Indeed, I did venture to show him some samples of furnishing fabrics and found him a seamstress to make some curtains, but obviously, I have no idea of modern trends. No idea at all.”
She walked across to the stairs, before turning back to Ravina.
“I have asked for a light supper to be served for you. You must be hungry, but you would not sleep following a heavy meal.”
“Will you join me?” Ravina asked.
Although Dulcie was the housekeeper, she was still treated as family by the Ashleys and always ate with them when they were in residence.
“No, if you will excuse me, I must check with the maids that all is in order upstairs. And I have to try to keep the peace between Mrs. Crandle and our Mrs. Diver. Two cooks in one kitchen is never an easy situation!”
“Do you like Sir Michael?” Ravina asked as her cousin turned away.
Dulcie stopped, rubbing her hand along the polished banister as if searching for dust.
“I do not know him well, but he seems a well-informed gentleman. Very polite.
“As I mentioned, I did venture to take some samples over to the Priory and he liked them, so I ordered some curtains made. I expect he was only being polite. I have no doubt he will take them down very soon.
“Indeed, our country tastes will seem extremely out of date to you and him. Well, Ravina, I am so pleased you are here. I will look forward to hearing all your news in the morning when you have rested.”
Ravina watched as the slim figure in the plain blue dress vanished up the stairs.
She felt from her tone that Dulcie did not approve of Sir Michael.
Well, that was unfortunate as she fully intended to take him up on his offer to stay at the Priory for a few days, regardless of what Cousin Dulcie and the wretched Sir Richard Crawford thought.
She ran upstairs to her room to tidy her windblown hair, but half way there, gave an irritated exclamation.
She had left her reticule in the carriage tucked under the seat.
She debated sending one of the footmen to find it, but decided it would be far quicker and easier to go herself.
Dusk had fallen swiftly while she had been indoors, but Ravina had spent half of every year of her life at Curbishley Hall and she knew all the paths and gates leading to the stable block.
She retrieved her bag and started back towards the house along a side path through the rose garden.
She stopped to pull down a large swag of white roses from a climbing bush and broke one off to wear in her hair.
Then she hesitated, looking around her.
She had the oddest feeling that someone was standing just behind the big wooden arbour, watching her.
“Hello. Who’s there?” she called.
She felt no fear. Indeed, it had been a long time since she had been afraid of anything, but it was a little odd. If it was a member of the staff, why did they not show themselves?
Unless, of course, she thought suddenly, it was someone who should have been on duty and not wasting time in the rose garden.
Someone, perhaps, who knew Dulcie had retired for the evening and was taking advantage of her absence.
Ravina bit her lip. She did not want to get anyone into trouble. Maybe one of the footmen and one of the maids were courting. There was nowhere indoors where a man and a girl could speak privately.
Indeed, she knew that Dulcie would have no compunction in dismissing any servant whom she considered less than efficient.
Ravina turned and quickened her pace to bring her once again to the front of the house. Whoever it was would have a chance of returning to work by slipping indoors through the scullery.
As she rounded the corner of the house, she stopped abruptly.
A man leading a grey horse was walking up the drive.
And even in the half-light of the summer evening, Ravina could see that the man was Sir Richard Crawford!
“Sir Richard?” she snorted, crushing the white rose between her fingers, the petals floating to the ground.
“Lady Ravina.”
He bowed and just then someone began turning up the lamps in the house, and she could see in the light streaming from the windows that he looked tired and drawn and that his horse was sweating and covered with mud from heavy riding.
“I must apologise for my untimely arrival. My stallion has gone somewhat lame, otherwise I should have been here earlier. If it is not too much trouble, I should like to speak to your father.”
Ravina became aware of a footman running down the stone steps towards them.
She hesitated.
She knew what she must do, but
she really did not want to do it.
“Please come in, Sir Richard,” she said at last. “I am afraid my parents are not here, but I can offer you some refreshment while one of my men tends to your mount.”
She gave instructions for the horse to be taken to the stables and walked into the house, aware that Sir Richard was following closely behind her.
In the small drawing room, she rang for Gibbs and stood hands folded in front of her.
Sir Richard did not speak and they stood in uneasy silence until the butler appeared.
“Gibbs, Sir Richard Crawford has arrived. His horse has gone lame. I am sure he would appreciate a drink.”
“Just coffee, please,” Sir Richard said.
“And could you please inform Miss Allen that we have a visitor, but she need not come down if she has already retired.”
“Certainly, my Lady.”
“Do sit down, Sir Richard. You make me feel quite nervous.”
Dark eyes gleamed from his tanned face and his lips twitched in what might have been a smile as he flicked up the tails of his dark green riding jacket and sank onto a hard backed chair.
Ravina sat on a sofa, as far away from him as was politely possible.
“I find it hard to believe that anyone could make you feel nervous, Lady Ravina,” he said and for an instant she thought he was laughing at her.
“Men do not suffer from nerves, sir,” she retorted. “So I see no reason for women to do otherwise.”
He nodded and continued to observe her.
Ravina frowned.
The familiar sense of irritation his presence caused her was beginning to make itself felt once more.
“My father is out of the country, sir,” she began when the silence had gone on long enough. “It is a great pity you did not mention the reason for your journey to Dorset when we met at the hotel today.
“I could have saved you the time and trouble to yourself and your poor horse. Indeed, you must have ridden him extremely hard to have arrived here when you did. He looked quite exhausted.”
Sir Richard could hear the note of disapproval in her voice that she did nothing to hide.
“He is well used to hard travelling, Lady Ravina. A few days rest and his leg will be as good as new.”
He bent to flick some dust from the edge of his jacket and murmured,
“I was not aware that Lord Ashley was out of the country. He must have left quite recently.”
‘Indeed. My parents are holidaying in the Balkans.’
She was not going to mention the real reason for her father’s trip. That he was journeying on Foreign Office affairs was no one’s business but his.
‘Leaving you on your own?’
Ravina sighed.
“Are we to have another conversation where you warn me about my riotous behaviour?”
Sir Richard shrugged and was about to speak when a footman arrived with the coffee on a silver salver.
Ravina noticed that he drank it black with no sugar and then was annoyed with herself for bothering to watch what he did.
The thin porcelain cup looked small in his lean tanned hand. It was obvious from his appearance that he had been abroad quite recently and she wondered where.
“I have the utmost respect for Lord Ashley. Far be it for me to question your parents” decisions regarding you in any way. I just feel that a young lady should be aware that everything she does and says in public plays a part in how she is perceived by the world at large. Sometimes an older, wiser head can divert trouble before it occurs.”
“So you believe I am incapable of making correct decisions for myself?”
Ravina found she was beginning to get annoyed all over again. This man was so infuriating. He treated her as if she was ten – no six!
Sir Richard carefully placed his coffee cup back on the tray.
He was deeply worried that Lady Ravina was on her own, here in the depths of Dorset. But he did not want to scare her, just make her a little more aware that you could not trust everyone you met.
She stood up and walked over to him.
“I suppose you are one of those old-fashioned men who think a husband should make every decision in a family and that his wife should just nod sweetly and agree, even if she thinks he is wrong.”
His dark eyes suddenly looked unhappy and his mouth tightened.
“I am not in a position to judge family life as such, ma’am.”
There was a silence again before Ravina asked,
“You wished to see my father? May I enquire the nature of your business? Can I give him a message or help in some way?”
Sir Richard stood up and she was aware again of how tall he was.
“I met Lord Ashley when we were both in Greece. He mentioned the beauty of the Dorset countryside and suggested I call on him when I returned to England. He knew I would be in the market for an estate as I wish to breed horses and he said he would give me any advice he could.”
Ravina stared at him, unsure of what to say.
‘Goodness,’ she thought, ‘everyone seems to be moving to Dorset!’
She wondered which property her father had been thinking about.
“So if you can think of any large comfortable houses around this neighbourhood – with enough ground for horses, I would be grateful for your help.”
Sir Richard leant his arm against the marble mantelpiece and stared down at her.
“Indeed, a house similar to that owned by the man who travelled with you today would be exactly right. Perhaps he would be willing to sell it to me? As you are obviously great friends, what do you think?”
Ravina became aware that colour was flooding into her cheeks.
“Sir Michael is not a ‘great friend’ of mine, sir. He is a kind and attentive acquaintance and a near neighbour. I have no idea of his future plans, but I think from all he has told me, that he will never sell the Priory.”
“Then I shall have to look elsewhere, will I not?”
For a second, Ravina thought she detected a twinkle of amusement in Sir Richard’s dark eyes, but then chided herself for being fanciful.
She had been sure that he was the type of man she detested the most – one who had no sense of humour whatsoever.
“I will certainly ask amongst my friends in the area,” she continued. “If there are any suitable properties for sale locally, someone will surely know.”
Sir Richard bowed gravely.
“You have my thanks, Lady Ravina. And now – ” he pulled a slim gold watch from his waistcoat pocket, “I have another favour to ask. As my horse is lame, I would be grateful to stay the night here at Curbishley Hall. I could, of course, make my way to the local hostelry, but – ”
Ravina hesitated.
She was certain that if her parents had been at home, they would have offered him all the hospitality for which they were famous.
But was it proper for her to have a strange man staying in the house, even though she was, of course, well chaperoned by Dulcie and all the staff?
She took a deep breath.
She was being old-fashioned. She who prided herself on being as modern and up-to-date as possible. In this day and age she could surely make her own decisions.
“Of course not, sir. My parents would be shocked to hear that you had been turned away. I will arrange for a room to be made ready for you at once.”
Sir Richard bowed again and watched as Ravina rang for Gibbs and gave him the necessary instructions.
He was more than thankful that she had given in to her more impulsive nature and allowed him to stay. For a moment he had been worried in case a more mature Lady Ravina had surfaced and he had been forced to leave.
It was imperative that he stayed in the house this evening. She was in great danger, but he was not sure from which direction it would strike.
But strike it would.
The stakes were too great.
He cursed silently that he had no name to put behind the rumours that had sent
him on this difficult and delicate mission.
Ravina left Sir Richard to Gibbs, ran up the stairs and tapped on Dulcie’s door.
“Dulcie. Are you awake? I need to speak to you.”
There was a rustling and the door opened a crack to reveal Dulcie, wrapped in her long dressing–gown, her hair twirled up inside a soft cotton sleeping cap.
“Ravina. Whatever is wrong? Is there a fire?”
“No, of course not. I am so sorry to waken you, but I just wanted to let you know that Sir Richard Crawford is staying the night.”
“What? Gibbs told me that he had just called to see your father?”
“Yes, he did, but his horse is lame and I cannot send him away to spend the night at the Blue Boar in Rosbourne. Father would be furious if I did.”
Dulcie clutched the collar of her gown tightly to her neck.
“Oh, dear, Ravina. I really do not feel that this is wise.”
Ravina smiled and patted her cousin’s arm.
“Do not fret so, Dulcie dear. Gibbs will prepare a room for him in the guest wing and I am sure he will be up and away early in the morning before we are even awake. I will leave instructions that he can stable his horse here until it recovers and take one of our mounts to carry him on his way.”
She left Dulcie still murmuring her objections and slipped away to her own room where Charity helped her unpin her long blonde hair and prepare her for bed.
But when Charity had gone, Ravina felt too restless to sleep.
She turned off the oil lamp and pushing aside the pale blue curtains from the windows, she opened the casements to let in the soft night air.
Ravina’s room was at the side of the house overlooking the gardens that swept down to the river beyond.
All was quiet and dark outside.
Nothing moved in the still night, until the crunching of gravel caught her attention and she leant further out to see a dark shape walking round the side of the house.
It was only one of the young footmen carrying a large box which Ravina recognised as one that her father had sent down from London containing a variety of provisions.
Ravina sighed.
She plucked one of the small yellow roses that rambled up the wall and cascaded over her windowsill all summer long. It had a sweet, heady scent like honey.
An Unexpected Love Page 5
