Sir Michael gestured to the footman who poured him another glass of wine.
“Housekeeper? Oh, yes, quite. She seems more than happy looking after Curbishley Hall while you and your parents are in London. And of course her reduced circumstances make the possibility of changing her station in life “well, we will not continue thus. But talking of marriage, Lady Ravina – ”
“Were we?” Ravina looked up, startled, wishing the footman would return with coffee to bring this awkward meal to a close.
Sir Michael pushed his plate aside and folded his hands pompously on the table in front of him.
He looked to Ravina as if he was about to preside over some official meeting.
She felt a wild desire to giggle begin to rise inside her.
“I have decided that I must turn my mind to that problem. I need a wife to provide me with an heir. The Priory needs a Mistress, someone who will care for it, help me with all the different functions I wish to give and take her rightful position in the social fabric of the County.”
He took a deep breath, the buttons on his waistcoat straining.
“Lady Ravina, I know that we have – ”
“Oh! Oh! Goodness me. I am so sorry!”
Ravina had jerked her hand, sending a cascade of red wine splashing across the table.
She leapt up and dabbed at her amber skirt with a linen napkin.
“Oh, dear, red wine is so difficult to remove from fabric. I do hope it will not stain. Would you ring the bell for your butler, please, Sir Michael? I know it is only a riding habit, but I must sponge it immediately.”
Ravina chattered on, hardly drawing breath, glad that in the ensuing fuss, the thorny subject of marriage was forgotten.
She was also glad that she had remembered one of the many lessons Nanny Johnson had taught her.
“If you are keen for a gentleman to stop talking on a certain subject, it is far better to cause a diversion rather than try to interrupt him. Gentlemen hate to be interrupted.”
A maid was summoned and escorted Ravina upstairs to a guest bedroom where she could rest while her skirt was carried away to be sponged.
Ravina lay on the bed, her head aching from the strain of the day, watching out of the window as the afternoon sun slid down the sky until it hovered above the waving green branches of the nearby woodlands.
When her skirt was finally returned to her, she lost no time in hurrying downstairs and saying her goodbyes.
Sir Michael was waiting for her in the hall. He accompanied her outside where a groom was holding Sweetie.
Ravina listened to Sir Michael’s repeated promises that she and she alone should be hostess at his big house-warming party.
Hardly knowing what she was saying in her haste to leave, Ravina agreed to return in two days to finalise all the plans.
With a sense of relief she allowed the groom to help her onto Sweetie.
She gathered the reins together, waved farewell to Sir Michael and urged the mare forwards.
Then she realised the groom was still holding Sweetie’s bridle, walking swiftly at her side.
“My Lady – ”
“Yes – ?” Ravina peered down at the worried face. “Why, I know you! It’s Bobby Watson, isn’t it? Hello, Bobby, how nice to see you. I did not know you were in service with Sir Michael. I am pleased for you. This is a step-up, surely.”
The Watson family were well known to Ravina and her parents. Joe Watson, the father, was a surly brute of a man who, although he was trained as a blacksmith, worked as little as possible, unless you counted poaching as work.
He feigned illness and injury and relied on the charity of nearby families to keep him and his family from the workhouse.
He lived with his wife and an ever-increasing family in a little hovel close to the river bank.
The shack was damp and dark and Ravina hated the times she was made to accompany her mother there on errands of mercy – delivering old clothes and baskets of produce to Mrs. Watson to help her cope with her brood of thin, runny–nosed children.
Ravina suddenly recalled that Beatrice, the nursemaid who had scared her so much when she was little, was Joe Watson’s sister.
But Bobby, the eldest Watson boy, had always seemed to have more intelligence than the rest of his family.
Ravina knew he loved horses and she was delighted to see that he was now working in a good job. Living in at the Priory could only improve his lot. Away from the dirt and criminal tendencies of his dreadful father, he would surely make something of his life.
“Yes, my Lady. I’ve been here for six months now.”
“I will tell my mother when she returns to England.She will be so pleased to hear that you are doing well. And how is your family?”
Bobby gazed up at her as they walked down the drive, his fingers nervously smoothing Sweetie’s mane.
“They’re – well, ‘bout the same, I suppose, my Lady. Pa – well, he’s away a lot.”
Ravina was puzzled.
She did not quite understand why the boy was anxious to talk to her, but knowing how difficult it was for the whole Watson family to put together a sensible sentence, she asked,
“Is there something you want, Bobby? Something I can do for you and yours? I can arrange for my cousin, Miss Allen, to put together some supplies for your mother if she is – well, if you are expecting another brother or sister in the near future.”
He licked his lips, his eyes very blue in his dirty tanned face.
“No, no, Ma is fine. We’re all fine. That is, well, I want you to take care in those woods, my Lady. Don’t you go ridin’ out on your own.”
“Bobby?”
The boy dropped the bridle as they reached the big iron gates and sidled away into the undergrowth that surrounded the gatehouse.
“I can say no more,” he said, his voice sounding desperate. “Just be careful, Lady Ravina. Be careful in them there woods!”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Leaving Bobby, the Priory and Sir Michael behind her, Ravina trotted back to Curbishley Hall along the main road.
She wanted to reach home as fast as she could.
“That is the only reason I am using the road,” she firmly told herself. “I am certainly not scared of the woods. Bobby is trying to frighten me with his warnings.”
She urged Sweetie into a faster trot.
“I am really disappointed in him. He is as bad as his Aunt Beatrice was all those years ago, telling me ghost stories about the Priory to punish me when I was naughty.”
She refused to pay any attention to Bobby’s silly remarks. The woods, although still enticing as the sun set behind the hills, would have to wait for another day.
Once or twice, she turned in her saddle, sure she could hear hoof beats on the road behind her. But there was no sign of another horse.
To her surprise, Dulcie was in the stable yard when she rode in.
Ravina slipped from the saddle and handed the reins to the groom.
“Dulcie, were you waiting for me? Is there a problem?”
“Ravina – what – oh, no, I was just – I came down to check – we need apples in the kitchen – Ravina, you really should not ride around the countryside on your own. It is most unwise.”
“Dulcie, dearest, I was accompanied all the way to the Priory by Sir Richard and the road home was straight and quick. Whatever could happen to me in our own village?”
“And how is Sir Michael?” Dulcie asked, casually, finding great interest in the basket of fruit she was carrying. “Were you impressed by his restoration work at the Priory?”
“He seems very well. Indeed, he keeps an extremely full table for a man living on his own. If he is not careful, he might well be considered too fat in a few years’ time.”
Dulcie looked shocked.
“Ravina. That is a most uncharitable remark. Sir Michael is a fine figure of a man. Indeed, I know no better.”
Ravina felt a mischievous smile breaking across her face and struggl
ed to keep it back.
It was slowly becoming very clear to her exactly what Dulcie’s true feelings for their near neighbour were.
But she could see that her cousin was flustered and miserable and tried to change the subject.
“Has Sir Richard returned to collect his horse?”
“No, the grooms have been waiting for him. Now it is getting dark, I imagine he has been delayed in some way. When he does arrive, we must of course, offer him our hospitality once more.”
Ravina nodded, wondering why she felt such a rush of pleasure that she would be seeing the stern, dark-eyed man again.
But then, he had not seemed so stern when he was racing her across the country. She could clearly recall how he had looked when they had reined in their mounts on the top of the hill.
His dark hair had been tangled across his brow, his eyes had gleamed and the austere expression had vanished from his face.
*
If Ravina dressed for dinner with more care than usual, she refused to admit it to herself.
The cream silk dress with the lace overlay was cut lower than the ones she normally wore and she insisted that Charity tried various hair styles before she was happy with the cascade of blonde curls that fell across her shoulders from a beautiful sapphire clasp.
She was about to go down for dinner when she remembered Bobby.
Of course what he was saying was nonsense, but –
She walked upstairs to Nanny Johnson’s room and found her sitting, nodding over her fire, even though the evening was warm and sultry.
Her face broke into a toothless smile as Ravina came in and sank down onto the little stool by the side of the old lady’s chair – a stool she had used ever since she could remember.
“Hmm, that dress is too low cut for a country dinner, miss.”
“Oh, Nanny. Don’t fuss. I like it. You must try to keep up to date with the latest fashions, you know.”
“Hmmph.” Nanny’s eyes twinkled. “The only reason I know for a young lady to wear a revealing dress when she is only dining with her companion, is that she hopes a gentleman she likes will be attending as well.”
“Nanny!”
Ravina jumped to her feet and wandered round the room, fingering all the little knick-knacks that littered every inch of space.
“Did you ever want to marry and have your own family, Nanny?” Ravina asked suddenly, wondering why this was the first time this question had ever occurred to her. “Was there ever a boy you liked?”
Nanny glanced up and if Ravina had been looking in her direction, she would have seen a quick flash of something close to pain cross her old face.
She was remembering a short, stocky young man with bright brown hair and merry hazel eyes. A young man who had been swept up by the Press Gang one misty winter morning on his way to work and who had died, somewhere on the ocean, a long way away from her comforting arms, fighting for King and country.
“Far too busy looking after the Ashley children to worry about having my own,” she replied. “And why are you bothering me with all these questions, Lady Ravina, when you should be downstairs enjoying the dinner the staff has laboured over preparing for you?”
Ravina smiled.
“Do you remember Beatrice Watson, Nanny?”
The old woman snorted.
“The silly chit who scared you out of the few wits you had when you were tiny? One of the Watson clan, she was.”
“I saw Bobby Watson today at the Priory. He is Joe Watson’s eldest boy and is working in the stables.”
“Then that Sir Michael isn’t the sensible man I thought he was. I wouldn’t have any of the Watson clan anywhere near me.”
“Bobby said – ”
Nanny shushed her.
“I do not want to hear another word, Lady Ravina. Whatever he said, don’t you believe it. They are all thieves and liars, those Watsons.”
Ravina smiled at her old nurse’s outraged expression. But she felt reassured.
Yes, it was just as she had thought.
Bobby was trying to scare her for some stupid reason of his own. She would think no more about his warning.
Leaving Nanny, Ravina felt a frisson of excitement, but when she entered the drawing room, she found Sir Richard and Dulcie deep in conversation.
Ravina was unaware of the gleam of appreciation in Sir Richard’s eyes as he looked at his young hostess, although she was aware that Dulcie, wearing a neat sensible dress in green, had raised her eyebrows at her cousin’s bare shoulders.
“Good evening, Lady Ravina. I trust you had an interesting day at the Priory?”
“Good evening, Sir Richard. Yes, indeed. It is a fascinating old house and Sir Michael has been most fastidious in his restoration work. And did your day go as planned? I trust your horse is now fully recovered.”
“Ravina! You sound as if you are keen for Sir Richard to leave us,” Dulcie said sharply.
Ravina felt the colour rush into her cheeks but Sir Richard just laughed.
“I am sure Lady Ravina has been far too busy today to give my absence a second thought. But I know you will be pleased to hear that my stallion is now back to his old self and I shall be taking my leave of you very soon.”
Ravina made automatic remarks of sorrow, but inside her head, her thoughts were whirling.
He was leaving and there was no reason why they should ever meet again.
Gibbs announced that dinner was served and the three of them made their way into the dining room.
He had lit candles on the table and Ravina was aware that Sir Richard was watching her across the dancing flames as she toyed with her soup and pushed the roast chicken around her plate.
Conversation over the meal was polite and bland.
When the last dishes had been removed, Ravina led the way into the drawing room where coffee was waiting for them.
But Dulcie shook her head, saying she would never sleep if she drank coffee so late in the day and wishing them both good night, she withdrew.
Gibbs served Sir Richard with a glass of brandy, leaving the two of them alone.
The night had grown chilly and a small fire was crackling in the grate.
“Your appetite seemed poor this evening, Lady Ravina,” Sir Richard commented, warming the bowl of his brandy glass between his hands. “I hope you have not overexerted yourself today. Inspecting houses that are in a state of disrepair can be tiring.”
Ravina scowled.
“The majority of the building work has long been finished at the Priory,” she said. “Sir Michael did not show me any area that was unsafe. It is the adornment and furnishing of the house that are his next requirements.”
“And do you feel your tastes and Sir Michael’s are similar?” he asked, gazing into the dancing flames.
“That is a very odd question, sir. Do you feel that one person’s view of beauty differs from another’s?”
“Yes, I do,” he replied calmly. “Indeed, I have no doubts that my ideas of what would make a home beautiful would be far removed from Sir Michael’s.”
Ravina felt a flash of annoyance.
She pushed aside the memory of her distaste at the overpowering and old-fashioned atmosphere that Sir Michael was already introducing into the Priory.
“I suppose we learn first from our parents what they consider tasteful and beautiful and add our own opinions as we grow older,” she said.
Sir Richard took a sip of brandy.
“I must admit that having met your father, I can only imagine that his ideas would be beyond reproach.”
“That was in Greece, was it not?” Ravina asked. “Where you met?”
There was a silence for a couple of heartbeats, before Sir Richard said,
“Yes, I was there on business and happened to make your father’s acquaintance. That was when he mentioned that Dorset would be a good area to look for a small estate when I returned to England.”
Ravina nodded and sipped her coffee.
“A
nd with that in mind, Lady Ravina, I have managed to cross the infamous Stanton Grange from my list today. As you rightly said, the place is far too damp and dark for my liking.
“So would you care to accompany me tomorrow on a little trip. I plan to visit Charlford to inspect a house I have high hopes will prove suitable to purchase.”
Ravina looked up, startled.
“Oh, well, I should spend some time here, checking on the horses and the tenants.”
“Surely you can spare one more day from your busy schedule?”
Sir Richard’s dark eyes gleamed in the firelight and Ravina had the odd feeling that he was laughing at her.
“I would appreciate your opinion, especially as I plan to breed horses there and I am sure you have a great knowledge of what suits animals in these Southern counties.”
Ravina hesitated.
“Of course, if Sir Michael has a prior claim on your presence and if you are already promised to visit the Priory once more, then – ”
“No, certainly not!” Ravina interrupted crossly. “My time is my own. I would be delighted to accompany you. Do you intend to ride?”
“If we go over the hills, it will prove a fairly short journey and will be a useful workout for my horse. Then, the day after, if you would not mind my staying an extra day, I will take my leave of you and Miss Allen. I know your cousin will be pleased to bring the house back to its normal routine.”
Ravina muttered some polite platitudes, her feelings a whirl of confusion.
Within a few minutes, she made her excuses and retired.
She spent a restless night, trying to work out why Sir Richard intrigued and annoyed her so much.
She finally decided it was because he had a knack of getting under her skin, of making her feel like a naughty child one moment and then his equal the next.
She knew, for example, that because he had constantly lectured her about riding alone, she would not tell him about Bobby Watson’s warning.
Sir Richard did not know the Watson family and so might well think there was some substance in the boy’s words, not realising that it was just a story to frighten a member of the Ashley family.
An Unexpected Love Page 8
