Colonial Daughter

by Heather Garside

  Agatha Howard rode even more fearlessly than she did. Louise could see that Charles was fascinated by her and Agatha encouraged his attention. When there was no hunting to be had the young people often made an excursion on horseback, enjoying a picnic lunch carried by one of the grooms. Agatha left her indifferent husband to discuss politics in the study with his host while she accompanied them, and Charles’s obvious interest in her developed into an open flirtation.

  Langley seemed amused by the developing affair but Caroline and Sir Samuel were obviously embarrassed and dismayed. Perhaps they were not familiar with the morals of the Marlborough House Set, of which Louise had heard whispers. To the Prince of Wales and his friends, romantic intrigue and affairs with other men’s wives were the order of the day.

  Louise’s suspicions of an affair were confirmed when she surprised Charles leaving Mrs Howard’s room early one morning. Charles seemed unrepentant, laughing at his sister’s shocked face. ‘Aren’t you being a bit hypocritical, my dear?’

  She flushed. ‘I don’t think so. I have never stolen another woman’s husband.’

  ‘Howard should be aware of the facts. If he can’t keep her happy, someone else will,’ he retorted cynically.

  ‘And what if it had been Mr Howard who surprised you just now? Or Papa, for that matter?’

  ‘The Pater wouldn’t dare say a word. I know too many of his own secrets. As for Howard, I shall cross that bridge if I come to it.’

  ~*~

  At the end of October the Howards left. Louise, relieved to see the end of that potentially explosive situation, wondered if William Howard was blind, or if he just preferred to pretend to be. Everyone else had clearly noticed the flirtation, even if they had affected not to. Perhaps Howard ignored it for the sake of his friendship with Harry Ashford, or possibly he’d long since resigned himself to his wife’s infidelities.

  Sir Samuel also announced his impending departure. Langley made noises about leaving too, causing Louise to wonder about his intentions.

  One morning he asked her to walk with him in the garden and took her to a spot amongst the roses. He took both her hands in his, for once looking serious.

  ‘Louise, I’ve just spoken to your father. Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?’

  Her breath caught in her throat. ‘Oh, Richard.’ In that instant she made up her mind. It was time to make a new life away from Fenham Manor and its wretched memories. She firmed her chin and met his intent gaze. ‘Yes, I’d love to be your wife.’

  He smiled his triumph and released her hands to slide his arms about her waist, drawing her close. He bent his head to kiss her and she submitted briefly.

  ‘Richard, please.’ She pulled away, afraid of giving in to her own excitement, for he was very appealing and obviously very experienced. ‘We must discuss this seriously. Where shall we live? I couldn’t abide London, you know.’

  He smiled. ‘What have you in mind? I must warn you I have more debts than money.’

  ‘I’ll be receiving a sizeable sum when I turn twenty-one in February. Do you fancy purchasing a house and some good farmland in the country somewhere? Papa would probably assist us and we could repay him later. We must be independent, Richard; we cannot exist on the charity of your family.’

  ‘And nor shall we live on the charity of yours,’ he said quickly.

  ‘Of course not. Anything Papa might give us would only be a loan. As for my own money, I would prefer to spend it on farmland than anything else.’

  He grinned. ‘So you fancy turning me into a farmer, do you? I don’t intend to rusticate completely, you know. I’m not like our worthy Samuel. Farming has never interested me greatly.’

  ‘We must live, Richard. Have you any other suggestions?’

  He shook his head. ‘Not unless I rejoin the army and you wouldn’t like being a soldier’s wife. Would you prefer I followed in my father’s footsteps and entered the church?’

  Louise laughed at prospect. ‘You’re teasing me, Richard! I’m sure farming must be the lesser of the two evils. Besides, I would make a shocking vicar’s wife.’

  ‘We would both of us loathe it.’ He drew her close again. ‘Now for another kiss. And you aren’t about to escape me this time, my dear.’

  To her surprise he was gentle and circumspect. He held her close for a time, stroking her hair and Louise relaxed in his arms. It felt so good to be held again. Perhaps she would find happiness with this man after all.

  ‘When would you like us to marry, Louise?’

  ‘Do you think April would be a good month? It will be a little warmer then.’

  ‘Of course, if your parents agree.’

  ~*~

  As Langley was due to leave in a couple of days, he asked Louise to take an early morning ride with him. They left the stables before the others had breakfasted, dismissing the groom who would normally have accompanied them. After a short gallop they drew up, laughing, at the fringe of a wood. Richard led the way through the trees and paused in a grassy clearing where a fallen oak tree made an inviting seat. He eyed Louise’s sparkling face.

  ‘Let’s stop here for a while,’ he suggested.

  He dismounted and helped her out of the saddle, fastening their horses’ reins to a branch and guiding her to the moss-covered log. ‘Once your sister’s wedding is over you must visit my family in Sussex. My father will be most anxious to meet you. I wrote yesterday to inform him of our engagement. No doubt he’ll be gratified to hear that I’m settling down at last.’

  ‘Had you mentioned me in your previous letters?’

  ‘Of course.’ He smiled and drew her hand into his. ‘I’m sure Father will like you, even if he does disapprove of your prowess on the hunting field.’

  ‘Will he be shocked, do you think?’ She laughed up at him, allowing herself to be provocative with him for the first time.

  His fingers moved caressingly on her palm and wrist, sending shivers down her spine. ‘Very likely.’ He kissed her, at first with his previous gentleness. As he drew her to her feet she moved instinctively close to him, her mouth opening under his. The kiss deepened and what had begun as a comparatively innocent embrace was suddenly not innocent at all. His tongue explored her mouth and he moulded her body into his. He was so vital and compelling, very different from Lloyd and yet for all his sophistication and class not so different after all if she closed her eyes. She found herself matching his passion, her defences down, her previous evasions having perversely added to her desire.

  At last he stopped kissing her long enough to murmur in her ear, ‘Will you leave a plate of sandwiches outside your door for me tonight, Louise?’

  She pulled back, dismayed, unaware of the significance of the sandwiches but in no doubt as to his meaning, all the same. ‘A plate of sandwiches?’

  He watched her keenly, his breathing quickened, his face flushed with arousal. ‘That’s what Mrs Howard used to do, when she wished Charles to visit her at night. It’s the usual procedure amongst the Marlborough House Set.’

  She moved away from him and bent to pick up her discarded whip. ‘If it’s an affair you’re seeking I wonder that you bothered to speak of marriage. I think it is time for us to return home.’

  ‘Louise.’ He caught her hand, staying her. ‘I do wish to marry you and I apologise for making such an improper suggestion. Let us say I was carried away with the passion of the moment. I’m truly sorry.’ He clasped her face in his fingers and kissed her gently. ‘It’s just that April seems so far away.’

  ‘Perhaps we shouldn’t ride alone in future. It was foolish of me.’

  He smiled so charmingly that it was difficult to maintain outrage. ‘Then I shan’t be able to kiss you again. Somehow I don’t think you would even want me to be respectable and boring like Sam is.’ He helped her into the saddle and then paused, his hand still holding the rein. ‘You did know that Charles and Mrs Howard were lovers, didn’t you?’

  She nodded. ‘I did, although I suppose I shou
ld not have done. Correctly speaking, we shouldn’t be having this conversation.’

  ‘Louise, it is because you are no simpering Miss that I was first attracted to you. You know more of the ways of the world than your sister. You must tell me about your Colonial experiences sometime.’

  Louise eyed him warily, knowing there was six months of her life that she could never tell him about. ‘Those experiences were mostly boring. I’m sure you don’t wish to hear about my time as governess to my cousin, James Barclay’s, children.’

  ‘One of your hardy pioneers is your cousin James, I believe,’ Richard murmured. He took her gloved hand and kissed the exposed skin of her wrist, his eyes darkening and never for a moment leaving hers. ‘I’m quite impatient for the day you become my wife, Louise.’

  The combination of his touch and caressing words was very erotic. Louise signalled her mount to move off, knowing she would have to tread very carefully over the next few months. She was determined not to risk being an unwed mother a second time and if that meant keeping Richard at arms length, so be it.

  Chapter Twenty

  It seemed fate was against her that day. Perhaps she’d never been intended to marry Richard Langley and the events that transpired were not coincidence at all, but an integral part of her destiny. Looking back, it was strange that she should see her son today for the first time since his birth. She had on many occasions ridden past the thatched stone cottage that housed the coachman and his wife, hoping for just such an eventuality. On these days she hadn’t caught a glimpse of the woman or the child, yet today Mrs Jones was walking up the path to the front gate as they approached, the baby bundled in her arms in a rug.

  Louise drew rein abruptly, hardly conscious of her actions or of her companion beside her. Her heart pounded as her gaze riveted on the face of the little boy. Her mare, perhaps sensing the tension in her body, began to fidget and she checked it mechanically, aware of nothing but the approach of woman and child.

  Mrs Jones, clearly recognising her, stopped and clutched her adoptive son more closely, an expression of alarm crossing her face. She hesitated for a moment but then continued through the gate, nodding her head deferentially towards them. ‘Good morning to you, Miss Ashford. Sir.’

  She would have slipped past them, but Louise put out her hand in a restraining gesture. ‘Mrs Jones, isn’t it? May I see the baby?’ She slid from the saddle and dropped her horse’s reins to step closer to the woman. ‘I trust he has been keeping well. How old is he now?’

  Louise had no need to listen to Mrs Jones’s reply; she knew well enough. He was ten months and one week old. She drew the blanket away from his face, noting that his hair was still dark, like hers. Otherwise, the likeness to Lloyd was unmistakable. The mouth, nose and chin were a softer, more rounded version of Lloyd’s. He was a beautiful child; only the hair and the blue-grey eyes that regarded her with solemn curiosity were hers. A sweet shaft of pain pierced her heart and her voice trembled.

  ‘May I hold him for a moment, Mrs Jones?’

  The woman couldn’t refuse, though her reluctance was obvious. Louise took the baby awkwardly, surprised at his weight. He twisted in her grasp, looking at the horses, then returning his steady gaze to her face. Louise’s throat constricted, the pain a physical thing stabbing at her chest. Opening the blanket slightly, she noted the sturdiness of his body under the warm clothing, but he was turning in her arms, not crying but restless and discontented. He reached out to the woman who was to all intents and purposes his mother.

  Mrs Jones moved forward. ‘I think it’s best if I take him back, Miss Ashford.’

  Louise relinquished him unwillingly, trembling and beyond speech.

  ‘We called him Matthew, you know.’

  Louise nodded. The compassion and understanding in the woman’s eyes stung her to respond. She knew...

  ‘He’s a bonny child,’ she croaked.

  ‘Aye, he is that. I’ll be on my way now, Miss. It’s a hefty walk to the village.’

  Louise stood mutely looking after them, the fierce ache in her chest and throat taking her back to the days immediately following his birth. Oh God, he was so much like Lloyd!

  She sensed Richard moving to her elbow and remembered his presence with a start. She averted her face in an attempt to hide her misery.

  ‘Shall we continue, Louise?’

  Louise nodded and accepted his help to remount. As they rode back to the stables her dazed thoughts winged across the miles to Lloyd. She pictured his face in her mind, recapturing it vividly as she hadn’t managed to do for some time. A sob welled up in her throat and she choked it back. She glanced at the man beside her. Had she really agreed to marry him, this irresponsible charmer with the laughing eyes that were not laughing now, but were disturbingly sharp and observant?

  His vigilant expression alarmed her. Could she pretend to be one of those maternal females who were obsessed with babies in general?

  ‘I must apologise.’ She managed a light laugh. ‘I warn you that I have a weakness for babies.’

  ‘I’m surprised. I wouldn’t have thought it of you, Louise.’

  ‘We’re all full of surprises, Richard.’

  ~*~

  When Langley returned to his room to change out of his riding breeches, he took the opportunity to interrogate his general manservant and valet, a trusted employee of many years.

  ‘Johnson, since we have been here have you heard any gossip concerning Miss Ashford?’

  The man looked startled. The engagement hadn’t been officially announced, but Langley was sure his servant had a fair idea of what was being planned. ‘Why no, sir. Not gossip, as such.’

  Langley smiled. ‘Yet you have all engaged in a great deal of speculation about her, I don’t doubt.’ He laughed at the man’s expression. ‘Come, Johnson. I know the talk that goes on below stairs. Miss Ashford was very ill when she first arrived here, I believe.’

  ‘Yes, that is what I was told. She didn’t leave her room for more than three months.’

  Langley’s eyes narrowed. ‘Was she seen by the servants in that time?’

  ‘I believe most of them didn’t see her, sir. She was attended by Brown, Mrs Ashford’s maid, and by Mrs Evans, the housekeeper. I know Barnes, Mr Charles’s valet, told me the first time he set eyes on Miss Ashford was shortly before Christmas.’

  Langley laughed to himself. ‘Well, old chap, you nearly got yourself hoodwinked good and proper.’ He looked up at the obviously bewildered valet. ‘Johnson, I want you to discover if anyone else saw Miss Ashford while she was ill. Also I would like you to ask a few discreet questions about the child I saw today with a woman called Mrs Jones. She must be the coachman’s wife. Find out if it is hers and when it arrived on the scene. She looks too old for childbearing.’

  Johnson wasn’t stupid. He stared at his master, open-mouthed. ‘Sir, do you mean...?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter to you what I mean, Johnson. Just do as I ask you and be discreet about it. There is no need to tell the rest of the world.’

  ‘Very well, sir.’

  The man hung Langley’s discarded clothing and directed an anxious glance at his employer before departing. Langley’s mouth twisted and he walked restlessly to the window, opening the curtains to look down at the gardens. Louise had surprised him this morning with her response to that damned kiss. No protected and cosseted young lady should know how to kiss like that. He’d already suspected her of an unconventional upbringing and had thought she would be more fun to bed than most of the naive girls his parents had wanted him to marry. It was no wonder men had affairs when their wives were encouraged to think of marital relations as nothing but an unpleasant duty. Yet if she wasn’t a virgin. He’d been prepared to overlook so much, but was he prepared to accept sullied goods?

  And now it seemed she was more than just sullied. The mother of another man’s child, perhaps. Of one fact he was certain: if his suspicions proved to be correct, he would not–could not–marry her.
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  It was provident that the engagement hadn’t yet been announced. It was a shame, for he was genuinely fond of her and now he would never have her in his bed. After this morning he wanted that very badly.

  ~*~

  During the usual buffet luncheon Langley found himself discreetly studying Louise, noting that the sadness had returned to her face. This theory of his would explain a lot and he felt a pang of conscience at having to add to that sorrow. After the meal was over he returned to his room for a prearranged rendezvous with his valet, whom he found sewing a button on one of his shirts.

  ‘Well, what did you discover, Johnson?’

  ‘It does seem to fit, sir. I believe Miss Ashford was seen by the butler and one or two other servants when she first arrived. However she was wearing a heavy cloak and the chambermaid who escorted her to her room says she didn’t take it off in her presence. She did look ill at the time, according to the maid. Later it was given out that she was confined to her bed and she wasn’t seen again until mid-December, when she began to leave her room. She didn’t dine with the family until just before Christmas.’

  ‘Did the doctor visit the house in all of this time?’

  ‘He did pay one visit that I can be sure of, sir. And one of the maids thought she heard someone being let in late one night. This was at the beginning of December.’

  Langley nodded. ‘Did you question the two women who attended Miss Ashford?’

  ‘I didn’t care to, sir.’

  He smiled. ‘Formidable old characters, are they? And what about the Jones infant? When did it make its appearance?’

  ‘That was in the second week of December. It was given out that his mother was Mrs Jones’s niece, who died in childbirth. No-one appears to suspect any differently.’