‘Too late! The arrangements have already been made. It is a celebration of our betrothal as well as your name day. There’s to be a hog roast and ale and all the ladies have taken provisions to bake something for the feast. And they’re providing their own entertainment— a fiddler or two, so I am told.’
‘I suppose I must leave things as they stand. How long an appearance should we make? I don’t wish to spoil their enjoyment by staying overlong.’
‘The party starts at four o’clock - before it gets quite dark - I thought we should start them off, then leave after an hour to have our own special dinner.’
‘I am in awe of your superior knowledge of such matters, my dear. How do you know all this?’
She laughed. ‘Mama was always organising parties for the troops and their families when we were travelling with the army. She believed it raised morale.’
‘What did your papa, Major Carstairs, think of all this jollity?’ Jack would have stamped on such nonsense in his brigade.
‘He never argued. I expect he thought it good for mama’s morale, providing her with something other than the dangers and deprivation to consider.’
‘A wise man. In fact, I wish I’d met both your parents. I believe I’d have liked them.’
Charlotte’s eyes filled. The loss was still too recent to accept his remarks unmoved. ‘I wish you had met them too. They would have approved of you, I’m certain.’
A discreet tap on the door interrupted their conversation. The butler asked if trays should be sent up to the schoolroom for luncheon or if the children would be coming down.
She looked at Jack. This was his decision.
‘The children are to eat in the nursery. But Miss Carstairs and I will eat in the parlour right away, thank you, Meltham.’
The butler bowed and backed out. Her stomach rumbled loudly and they both laughed.
‘I don’t believe either of us had the opportunity to eat much this morning and I for one am famished.’ He stood up, offering his hand to her. She took it willingly and he pulled her up.
She stood a hand’s breadth from him and could feel his heat pulsing towards her, knew he wanted to embrace her, but he remained true to his word and merely folded her hand into his arm and guided her out. She had no idea the effort such restraint required, how close to breaking he was.
Chapter nineteen
At fifteen minutes past ten on Sunday morning the Carstairs family were assembled in the hall ready for the short walk to church. They were dressed in the garments that had been purchased in Ipswich earlier in the week. Beth twirled sending her ruby red skirts flying out around her calves.
‘This is the best gown I’ve ever owned, Lottie. And I have a spencer and bonnet to match; I feel I’m a real lady of fashion.’
‘Indeed you are,’ Charlotte replied, ‘but please stop spinning like that, you’re making me dizzy.’
Harry in his navy velveteen breeches and matching jacket was not as sanguine. He tugged at his stiff collar and neatly tied cravat. ‘This is too tight, it’s strangling me.’ He pretended to choke, clutching his neck and staggering around the hall sending both of his sisters into peals of laughter.
‘I hadn’t realized attending morning service was the time for merriment, I rather believed it to be a time for reflection and contemplation,’ Jack said. He was resplendent in buff pantaloons, spotless Hessians and a square cut, navy- blue topcoat.
‘We shall have more than enough time for quiet reflection during the sermon,’ Charlotte answered, ‘so do not be so curmudgeonly.’
He chuckled and the children relaxed, they hadn’t realized he was jesting. ‘My, we do look fine this morning; I’m afraid, Harry, that you and I will have to slowly strangle to death in order to be smart enough to accompany these lovely ladies.’ He gestured to his high jacket collar, stiff shirt points and exquisitely folded cravat.
Harry giggled and flung himself into Jack’s arms. ‘Will the service be very long? I fall asleep halfway through and Lottie gets cross with me.’
‘I promise to poke you in the ribs if you should happen to nod off, if you will do the same for me.’
‘I will. Can I sit next to Cousin Jack, just this once?’
‘If he has no objection of course you may.’ Charlotte smoothed down her moss-green satin spencer and adjusted her matching green and cream striped scarf. She was delighted with the walking dress and jacket she had purchased and was certain she, like Jack, appeared to advantage.
He stepped away tipping his head one side the better to admire the ensemble. ‘That particular shade of green is perfect for you, my love, and the cream skirt with the little folds along the bottom is delightful…’
‘But?’
He smiled. ‘But I have sincere reservations about the bonnet. It’s strongly reminiscent of a coal scuttle and I can hardly see your face inside it.’
Beth and Harry collapsed in fresh fits of giggles at his outrageous comment and even Charlotte smiled. ‘I did wonder about the length of the brim, but it is the height of modernity, you know.’
‘That’s as may be; I prefer your little straw confections, with narrow edges and long silk ribbons that match your gown.’
She was surprised he’d noticed so feminine a detail. ‘But you must admire my boots?’ He pretended to consider his answer, shaking his head, and dropping to his knees to hold the proffered foot. Beth and Harry believed he was playacting for their benefit - Charlotte knew he was the using opportunity to his advantage.
As his long supple fingers caressed her ankle she felt the all-too-familiar heat and the accompanying throb in her lower regions.
‘Let me go. I’m about to lose my balance. Standing like a heron has never been a skill I mastered.’
He sprang up and taking her neatly gloved hand threaded it through his arm. ‘Let us depart; Mr Peterson awaits.’
Charlotte attempted to ignore the militiamen shadowing them on either side of the track. She wanted the day to be perfect with no unpleasant reminders intruding and spoiling it. She watched Beth and Harry skipping happily the danger forgotten in the pleasure of the moment and wished she could be like them. But there was an ever present sense of foreboding, as if something catastrophic was about to happen; some evil stalked them she was certain of it.
‘What is it, sweetheart?’ He had felt her fingers tighten on his arm.
‘Nothing, I’m quite well, thank you.’ She didn’t wish to him to think her fainthearted, she was a soldier’s daughter after all not a gently bred debutante.
She tried to enjoy the fifteen minute walk; the late September sun was shining warmly, the brambles that bordered their way were a spectacular show of red, crimson and gold and she was on the arm of the man she loved. What more could she want?
Her happiness shrivelled. She wanted him to love her for without this she faced a long and empty future. Sharing passion was not the same as sharing love, for what would be left when desire waned?
She was surprised to find the tiny stone church packed with worshippers. The rear of the building was full of standing villagers who touched their forelocks or curtsied as they passed. On the chairs were families of well-to-do farmers and even a squire or two. Her face was stiff from smiling by the time they reached their designated place.
Thurston staff had been given leave to attend the service and Harry spotted both Annie and Betty sitting at the rear of the church. ‘Can I go and sit with Annie? There are children at the back,’ Harry whispered, for once remembering to lower his voice.
‘No, your place is here, at the front, with me. Sit down and be silent, Harry,’ Jack said.
The child subsided instantly. Beth sat next to him and Charlotte beside her on the seat closest to the aisle. There were still fifteen minutes before the service so the murmur of voices continued giving Charlotte the opportunity to speak without fear of being overheard.
‘I didn’t expect so many in the congregation. Do you recognize any of the seated families?’
He shook his
head. ‘Word we would be attending must have spread through the neighbourhood. I expect people are curious to catch a glimpse of the reclusive Lord Thurston and his intended bride.’
‘That’s what I thought. I’m finding it uncomfortable to be the centre of attention like this.’ She straightened to face the front, glad there was no one either side, that everyone was seated behind them. What was gratifying, however, was to know they were all looking their best. She hadn’t spotted a single lady dressed more fashionably than herself. Her satisfied smile faded as she realized where she was - the Lord’s house was not the place for vanity.
She bent down and pulled the horsehair cushion forward then knelt to say her prayers, starting with one asking for forgiveness. She had regained her seat when she heard a stir at the rear and the vicar hurried in, his face pink, his cassock flying wildly round his ankles. It had obviously taken him longer to travel the few miles from his earlier service to join them at Thurston church.
The congregation stood and the vicar began by giving the second reading of their bans. A shiver of anticipation flickered down her spine, only one more Sunday and she would be a duchess, the tall man standing next to Harry would be her husband.
An hour and a half later Jack led her down the aisle to say their farewells to the vicar. The rest of the congregation waited politely for them to pass but she was aware of curious eyes boring into her back.
‘Thank you for the service Mr Peterson. Your sermon was most uplifting,’ she said politely. Jack merely nodded. He pulled gently on her arm and she was moved on, allowing the next worshippers to take her place As they left first they were able to make good their escape without being obliged to speak to anyone else.
Eventually he slowed down when they were out of sight of the church. ‘Excellent! I find I’m not yet ready for social chitchat, perhaps in a few weeks I shall feel more comfortable in a crowd of strangers.’
‘That was very long, do I have to go every week?’ Harry asked.
‘You do, Harry; we all do, it’s expected of us.’
‘We go for other reasons as well, Harry. It’s the time to commune with God in peaceful surroundings.’
Beth slipped her hand into Charlotte’s. ‘I loved it, Lottie; it’s so long since we’ve been able to attend.’
Jack and Harry drifted ahead, seeking nuts and other interesting things on the path. She watched them and knew she was doing the right thing whatever her personal reservations. He loved her brother and sister; he would take care of them and give them a position in society they could never have if she attempted to raise them on her own.
‘You can run on if you wish, Beth, I’m quite content to stroll on my own.’
Beth grinned. ‘If you’re sure, then I’ll catch them up.’
The soldiers had followed Jack, obviously considering him their priority, leaving her to walk on unescorted. Without them the path became less attractive, the hedges too close, the overhanging branches claustrophobic. She glanced round nervously. She had a distinct feeling she was being watched and not by anyone friendly.
She increased her pace but was aware corresponding noises behind the bushes were keeping up with her. She picked up her skirt and ran, bursting round the corner to find Jack crouched on the ground buttoning Beth’s boot. He was on his feet and she stumbled into his arms.
‘Charlotte, what is it?’
She struggled to catch her breath, unable to answer for a moment. She didn’t see him gesture with his hand for a couple of the soldiers to go back and search the fields that bordered the path. Eventually she pushed herself away. ‘There was someone following me, I’m certain of it. I heard them moving in the bushes on the other side of the hedge.’
‘You’re safe now, sweetheart. But we must go back to Thurston if you’re recovered enough to walk with me?’
She forced a smile. She didn’t wish the children to be more frightened than they already were. ‘I am. I was being very silly. I have an over active imagination, mama was always telling me so.’ Harry’s cold hand clutched hers. Instinctively she pulled him closer. ‘There’s nothing to be worry about. I must have heard a deer in the fields and panicked. Was I not a silly goose?’
‘Lottie is a silly goose, Beth. I wasn’t scared ’cos I’m a big boy.’
‘We had Cousin Jack with us and the soldiers, Lottie had no one.’ Beth moved in beside her sister, preventing Jack from offering his arm. They were all relieved to reach the safety of the park without further mishap.
‘Annie and Mary are not back from church so we shall have to manage for ourselves. Shall we change out of this finery? By the time we’re ready luncheon should be served.’
‘Me first, me first,’ Harry chanted. ‘Then I can go down and see Buttons, he’ll be wondering where I am.’
‘You can’t go down without Annie or myself, Harry, so it makes no difference in what order we disrobe.’
It was late afternoon before Charlotte and Jack had time to talk about the morning’s incident. He sought her out, finding her in her usual seat curled up in front of the fire in the drawing-room.
‘Charlotte, you were right to be concerned, we found evidence to confirm your suspicions.’
‘I had hoped I was mistaken. Does that mean whoever it is has recruited more men to do his murderous work?’
He sat down beside her. ‘I fear so. We must be extra vigilant; these are no amateurs, they are ex-soldiers, expert in stalking their prey. We’re in danger every time we leave the house. Riflemen can hit a target from a quarter of a mile away.’
‘Are you saying that we have to stay inside from now on?’
‘For the moment, yes. Captain Forsythe is sweeping the grounds. When that’s done we should be safe for a while. But it’s far too easy for a determined man to infiltrate the park. It would take a regiment to ensure no one got through. And these men, although willing, are not real soldiers and they have never fought a battle. They are up against veterans with nothing to lose.’
‘Shall we cancel the party tomorrow?’
‘No, with so many here it will be safer and they’re not trying to harm anyone apart from us. We’ll be endangering no one else.’
‘I wish we would hear something from Ipswich; not knowing why we’re being targeted makes it so much worse.’ Ignoring his previous strictures to keep her distance, she slid closer to him and snuggled into his arms. Only there did she feel safe.
He stroked her hair, running his hand back and forth across her rigid shoulders until the tension ebbed. With a sigh she sat back. ‘I cannot wait for Monday week, then you can be beside me all night and I shall be able to sleep without fear.’
He chuckled. ‘Darling girl - I am counting the very minutes to that time - I rather think it’s for a different reason to your own.’
‘Jack!’ She sat back with feigned outrage. ‘You must not say such things.’
‘But I promised never to lie to you, my dear.’ He cupped her face and scanned her features as if imprinting them on his memory. ‘You are so incredibly lovely. I don’t deserve you.’ He kissed her, hard, and stood up. ‘But I’m keeping you; you are mine - I shall kill anyone who tries to harm you or take you away from me.’ His tone was light but he meant every word.
‘You are the man I want to marry. We’re a perfect match for we understand each other.’
He bent down to whisper in her ear, his breath on her neck sending waves of heat around her body. ‘I promise that eight days from now you will understand a great deal more about me, my sweet.’ Then he straightened, striding off to assist Captain Forsythe with the search.
Mary brought up Charlotte’s chocolate and hot water at eight o’clock. ‘What is the weather like today, Mary? Is it fine?’
‘It is, miss. Bright and clear and no clouds in the sky anywhere. A mite chilly but not bad for the first of October.’
‘I’m so relieved. I know the party is going to be held in the barn but I don’t want everyone to get drenched on their way there.’
She agreed to Mary’s suggestion and hurried with her toilette as she wished to spend the entire day with the children. The morning was to be spent in lessons the afternoon completing their name-day gifts for Jack. That way they would hardly notice the restriction on their movements he had insisted upon.
By three o’clock the children were beside themselves with anticipation. Their gifts were ready and carefully wrapped in tissue. Harry had stuck pebbles over an old wooden box and Beth had painted a pretty watercolour of Buttons and her kittens. She had then made a frame from scraps of material stuck around the edge. Charlotte had completed her embroidering of the six handkerchiefs she intended to give him.
‘Shall we give these to Cousin Jack before we go?’ Beth asked as she tied the ribbon that held the tissue paper together.
‘No, I’ll arrange for Meltham to place the gifts at his place for him to open, when we return for dinner.’
‘I don’t think it’s at all fair for Harry to be allowed to stay up for dinner. I have never done so before and I’m almost eleven.’
‘Please do not squabble, not today, Beth. This is a special time for all of us. Cousin Jack has told me he hasn’t celebrated his name day since he was a boy. I want it to be very special, a day he will always remember.’
‘It’s your party as well, Lottie, you’re celebrating your betrothal, aren’t you?’
‘I am, Beth.’ She glanced down at her bare finger. Mama’s jewellery had all been pawned which was a shame for Jack had no family heirlooms to search through in order to find her a suitable engagement ring. She sighed. She would be wearing gloves so no one would notice this lack.
They were dressed in their Sunday best; all the garments had needed were a quick sponge and a press to make them perfect.
‘Is it time yet, Lottie?’ Harry asked, trying to puzzle out the strange arrangement of hands and Roman numerals on the clock face.
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