A Companion of Quality

by Nicola Cornick

  “Oh…” Caroline rallied herself to speak normally. She slowed her pace, aware that she was becoming out of breath. “My family were from Cumbria, sir.”

  “The Whistons of Watchbell Hall?” Lewis put his hands in his pockets. “I had no idea that you were related to that family. Was your grandfather not a famous collector of clocks and watches, playing on the name of his home? I am sure I heard that he had some of John Harrison’s original timepieces?”

  Caroline smiled. “He did indeed. I have one of them as a keepsake—only small, but very dear to me.”

  Lewis squared his shoulders. “Forgive me if I speak out of turn, Miss Whiston, but did you not have any relatives who might help you upon your father’s death? It seems most singular that you had to go out and earn a living!”

  “A distant cousin of my father’s inherited the title.” Caroline met his eyes a little defiantly. “I had no wish to be a burden on a family I barely knew. I make shift as well I can.”

  “I imagine so. You seem most resourceful, Miss Whiston, but—” Lewis broke off. “Forgive me,” he said again, “it is none of my concern after all.”

  A slightly strained silence fell between them. Caroline was profoundly grateful that they were nearly back on the terrace now. The mossy stones were smooth beneath her feet and, mindful of the first day she had met Lewis, she was careful not to slip.

  “Perhaps you might help me with my garden plan if you have the time,” Lewis continued, on a lighter note. “I know that Belton respects your opinion. He mentioned that you had given him advice on treatment for some of the diseased roses!”

  Caroline smiled. “I am happy to help if Mrs Chessford can spare me,” she said. “Whilst I am at Hewly I should like to be useful.”

  Lewis tilted his head. “It sounds as though you do not intend to be with us much longer, Miss Whiston,” he said acutely. “Are you thinking of leaving?”

  Caroline looked away. She knew she should have been more careful, for she was already aware of Lewis’s sometimes uncanny perception.

  “I have no other plans at present,” she said truthfully. “Good day, sir.”

  She slipped inside and closed the door behind her, resisting the impulse to watch Lewis as he strolled off in the direction of Belton and the greenhouses. It seemed that she had vastly underestimated the case when she had imagined that she should be able to avoid the Captain. What she had not underestimated, however, was the need to do so. After eleven years as a governess in households up and down the country, she was in danger of succumbing to the sort of feelings she had never experienced for any man. It was dangerous, inappropriate and all the things that Miss Caroline Whiston was not. It also emphasised the need to leave Hewly before her feelings made a complete fool of her. She would do best to leave the garden lost in time, and her own feelings frozen with it.

  The Admiral’s condition worsened the following day and an exhausted Mrs Prior gladly accepted Caroline’s offer to sit with him for a few hours whilst she tried to get some rest. The doctor had called earlier and had confided that he thought that the end was very near, a few weeks at the most. Word had got around the house, with the effect that unhappiness sat like a pall over the place. The servants whispered and tiptoed about, Lavender moped in the library and Julia was even more irritable than usual.

  “I do not see why Lewis feels we must all creep about like ghosts!” she said crossly to Caroline. “Much more of this and we shall all expire—from boredom, if nothing else!” She flounced across her bedroom. “I did not imagine that this would happen so soon! If Uncle Harley dies there will be no more parties and no entertainment and then where shall we be! We shall not even be able to attend the Christmas ball at the Angel!”

  “I am sure that the Admiral will take that into account when he plans just when to pass away!” Caroline said, for once not trying to conciliate her friend. Julia’s blue eyes widened to their furthest extent.

  “Why, you are very cross today! What is it to you that Admiral Brabant is about to die? You cannot share our distress!”

  Caroline held on to her temper with an effort. “I am naturally upset by such an event,” she said evenly. “It is true that I do not know the Admiral well, but I can still regret his illness! Why, the servants are all worried, and Miss Brabant is deeply upset—”

  “Oh, Lavender!” Julia sniffed. “Well, I suppose that is not be wondered at! I shall do my best to comfort her, of course, but it is Lewis that I worry over, coming home to all this! I feel I must devote myself to ensuring his future happiness!”

  “I am sure that he will be most grateful to you!” Caroline snapped. “Excuse me, I do not believe I can do anything more here, so I shall go downstairs!”

  Julia raised her brows. “Very well! I shall come down too and play the piano! Some music may banish the blue devils in me!”

  Once Julia was settled in the music room, Caroline went to see if she could find Lavender.

  The December afternoon was dark already, as though echoing the sombre mood in the house. Lavender was not in the Library or the drawing-room, and Caroline was about to enquire if any of the servants knew of her whereabouts, when the study door opened and Lewis Brabant came out. He looked cross and harassed, and Caroline gave him a tentative smile, aware that he must be feeling as dismal as his sister. It evoked no answering gleam. To the contrary, there was a hard light in Lewis’s blue eyes as they dwelled on her and a harsh set to his mouth. Caroline’s heart did a little nervous jump.

  “Miss Whiston.” Lewis’s tone was clipped. “How convenient. I wonder if you would spare me a moment of your time, ma’am?”

  “Of course—” Caroline frowned a little, taken aback. She could think of nothing she had done that would merit the look of dislike in Lewis’s eyes. She felt like a recalcitrant lieutenant who was about to be hauled over the coals.

  Her apprehension rose as he ushered her into the study and closed the door very firmly behind them. He did not invite her to sit down; he himself walked over to the window and stared out over the darkened garden for a few moments before swinging round on her.

  “Can you tell me what this is, Miss Whiston?”

  Caroline followed his gaze, feeling utterly bewildered. He had thrown something down on the blotter of his desk and Caroline stepped forward to try to see what it was that he was talking about. It looked like a letter, the paper faded, the writing extravagant with loops and curls. Caroline suddenly recognised it as one of Julia’s letters from years before, and frowned as she tried to imagine how it could have fallen into Lewis’s hands.

  “Why, yes…It is an old letter from Mrs Chessford to myself, but—”

  “Do you keep all your old letters, Miss Whiston?” Lewis interrupted her with scant courtesy. “It seems a somewhat singular thing to do!” He drove his hands into his pockets as though to restrain himself from some more violent action. Once again his gaze raked her with dislike. “Unless, of course, you have some purpose in mind for them!”

  Caroline looked at him in bewilderment. “I kept Julia’s letters only because they reminded me of my time at school here. They were a link with my childhood. But I do not understand…How did you gain possession of this, sir?”

  Lewis gave her a scathing look and at the same moment, Caroline remembered. Her hand flew to her mouth as she realised that she must have accidentally left the letter in the book of poetry she had taken down to the library. She had been reading Marmion one evening when Mrs Prior had come to ask for her assistance with the Admiral, and she had pushed the letter carelessly inside it to keep her place. Later she had taken the book up again and put her bookmark absentmindedly inside the front cover. So the letter must still have been there when she had returned the book, and Lewis had picked it up himself with some remark about enjoying the work…

  Caroline caught her breath, wondering which of Julia’s indiscreet observations were recorded in that particular letter. How much of it had Lewis read? There must be something in it, to make him r
eact so. Was it the one about Julia’s engagement to Andrew Brabant, or was there some reflection on Lewis himself…?

  Caroline became aware of Lewis watching her with a penetrating regard. His scrutiny was thorough, from head to foot, and there was a frown between his eyes.

  “Oh dear…I am so sorry…” She stopped. Too late, she realised that Lewis had interpreted her words as some kind of admission of guilt, for he was smiling grimly.

  “I confess myself disappointed that you should stoop to so clumsy a piece of subterfuge, Miss Whiston,” he said coldly. “To conceal a letter in the book is an old ruse and one that can only be designed to stir up trouble! What was your aim? To provoke discord between Mrs Chessford and myself! I had thought better of you, ma’am, but now I think it wise for you to start your packing! You will leave Hewly Manor immediately!”

  Chapter Five

  Caroline stared at Lewis in fury. She was almost breathless with shock and outrage. The suddenness of her dismissal was almost too much to take in.

  “Leave Hewly? How dare you make such a presumption of guilt, sir! And you are not my employer, sir, to dismiss me on a whim!”

  “But it is my house!” Lewis leant both hands on the desk and returned Caroline’s furious regard with a gaze that was equally angry. “Therefore I say that you should go!”

  “In point of fact, sir,” Caroline said evenly, “it is not your house and I am sure that your father would never behave in so arrogant and high-handed a manner!”

  Lewis took a deep breath. He straightened up. “Leaving aside your aspersions on my behaviour, Miss Whiston, do I take it that you deny you played such a trick?”

  Caroline spoke cuttingly. “I beg your pardon, sir. I fear I do not even understand this farrago of nonsense! Do you imply that I left the letter in the book deliberately?”

  Lewis looked at her in silence. His anger seemed to have gone and Caroline could discern nothing in his face but resignation and a fleeting disappointment. For some reason this made her even more furious. He made a slight gesture with his hands.

  “What else am I to think, Miss Whiston? It appears that you left a damaging letter specifically for me to find! No doubt you hoped I should read it, and that its childish revelations would injure the regard I have for Mrs Chessford! I would not have thought you capable of such a deceit were it not for what Mrs Chessford herself had mentioned to me this afternoon—” He broke off, but Caroline was too quick for him.

  “Indeed, sir? Pray do not scruple to tell me! After such an injury as you have already dealt me, further accusations can be as nothing!”

  Lewis looked slightly uncomfortable. “Miss Whiston—”

  Caroline was not about to let him retreat. “Captain Brabant? I am waiting!”

  Lewis sat down. It was a disarming move and left Caroline feeling slightly foolish that she was still standing in so rigid a pose. When he gestured to her to take the chair opposite, she had little alternative but to comply.

  “Miss Whiston,” Lewis said slowly, “perhaps it is better that we set this aside as a misunderstanding—”

  He got no further. Caroline was still furious and she suspected that he was only trying to protect Julia. She leant forward threateningly, her hazel eyes flashing.

  “Captain Brabant! If you do not tell me at once what it was that Julia said—”

  “You will do what, Miss Whiston?” Lewis met her gaze coolly, calling her bluff. A slight smile touched the corners of his mouth. “Can you not accept that there has been a mistake—”

  “Oh, fustian! Do not seek to gammon me, sir!” Caroline gave him a look of disgust. “I suppose that Julia said that I had left my last post under a cloud or that I had been turned off…” She saw by the way his eyes narrowed that she had hit her mark. “And you believed her!” Caroline added sharply. “You have made some fine assumptions, have you not, sir, believing that I have a penchant for malicious tricks and that Julia only employs me through kindness since I am so deceitful!”

  She locked her hands together to still their shaking. “I freely admit to leaving the letter in the poetry book, but I did so in all innocence. If you will recall,” she glared at him across the space between them, “it was your idea to borrow Marmion and no suggestion of mine! I could not have contrived such a trick even had I wished! It was the veriest accident!”

  Their gazes locked, Lewis’s watchful, Caroline’s bright with anger and distress. “As for this other tale,” she continued, “the one of my apparent untrustworthiness—that is the fabrication, not my behaviour! I have references, couched in the highest terms, but since Mrs Chessford evidently believes me unreliable, I will leave her service at once! Leave Hewly? You would have to beg me to stay!”

  She saw a flicker of a smile cross Lewis’s face. There was a very definite admiration in his eyes now, admiration and something even more disquieting. Caroline jumped to her feet and made for the door. Lewis moved quickly to block her path.

  “Miss Whiston! Wait!”

  Caroline was already reaching for the handle when Lewis put a hand against the door panels and leant his weight on it to hold it closed. They were very close. Caroline stepped back, his proximity sending a sudden quiver of awareness through her. All her nerve endings seemed to be sensitised by their quarrel, her feelings too close to the surface. Some colour came into her set face. She kept her expression stony and avoided his eyes.

  “You would prevent my departure now, sir? By what right—”

  “Miss Whiston, do not run away!” Lewis spoke urgently, his gaze compelling on her face. “Allow me to explain—”

  “At your command, sir?” Caroline asked icily, covering her trembling with haughtiness.

  Lewis straightened up. He raised an eyebrow. “At my most humble prayer? Please, Miss Whiston, sit down again and hear me out…”

  Caroline could feel herself weakening. She looked pointedly at him until he took his hand from the door.

  “Please,” he said again. “I should be grateful for the chance to put matters right, Miss Whiston…”

  Caroline felt trapped. Good manners obliged her to do as he asked, although she had a most ardent wish to escape his presence. She waited as Lewis poured two glasses of madeira, sat down opposite her and put his own glass down on the small table between them. He looked at her thoughtfully.

  “First, I believe I owe you an apology, ma’am.” There was a frown between his brows again. “That was devilish clumsy of me, regardless of what I believed at the time. You were quite right to ring a peal over me for my bad manners. It was only because I felt so surprised—” He broke off abruptly. “But that is nothing to the purpose.” His expression lightened a little. “I believe this is no more than a misunderstanding and soon mended. I accept that you never meant to leave the letter in the book and certainly did not intend it for me.”

  Caroline gave him a very straight look. “Besides, what would be the point of such an action, sir? As a gentleman I know that you would never have read a letter addressed to another!”

  There was a pause.

  “As you say, ma’am.” Caroline thought she could see a glint of amusement in Lewis’s eyes. “I did in fact read a little of the letter in order to ascertain to whom it belonged—”

  “Since they are all addressed to ‘dear Caro’,” Caroline said acidly, “that should not have taxed your intellect a great deal, sir!” She looked across to the desk, where the offending letter still rested on the leather top.

  “Dear Caro…” Lewis said musingly, and there was a caressing tone in his voice that brought the colour into Caroline’s cheeks. “You are right, that was the appellation, and very pretty I thought it too…”

  “That is beside the point, sir!” Caroline snapped, hoping that he put her blush down to anger not embarrassment. “The issue here is that you apparently believed me capable of wishing to discredit Mrs Chessford! Worse, I believe you indicated that Mrs Chessford herself had some concerns over my integrity—”

  �
�I must stress that this is all a misunderstanding on my part,” Lewis said smoothly, leaving Caroline almost speechless at the skilful way he was glossing over the situation. “I must beg you to forgive me for a poor, dull fellow. Julia never implied such a thing, I am sure, and your integrity is unimpeachable, Miss Whiston…”

  “But…” Caroline felt as though the rug had been pulled from beneath her. “That is all very well, sir—”

  Lewis shrugged casually. “I would not wish this matter to cause trouble between you and Mrs Chessford, still less that you would feel it necessary to leave Hewly. Please forgive me for this storm in a teacup, my dear Miss Whiston, and accept another glass of wine as a peace offering!”

  Caroline looked down and realised that she had already finished the first glass. She had no recollection of drinking it. She frowned a little, still thinking on what Lewis had just said.

  “I cannot imagine,” she blurted out, “why you should think I would wish to discredit Julia! What possible motive—” She broke off as Lewis turned to look at her, one brow raised quizzically.

  “Oh no, Captain Brabant! I fear that you flatter yourself far too much!”

  Lewis had the grace to look a little abashed. “Miss Whiston, I was not really such a coxcomb as to believe that you had a partiality for me—”

  “No, I dare say that Mrs Chessford planted that particular idea in your head as well!” Caroline’s wrath was growing again, fuelled by the fact that there was more than a grain of truth in the idea. “Of all the conceited…Have you forgotten, sir, that you were the one who forced your attentions on me when we first met! You do not see me begging for your notice!”

  Lewis laughed. “I most certainly have not forgotten…” He put the decanter down and came towards her. Caroline took one look at his face and felt suddenly breathless. Perhaps it had not been such a good idea to remind him of their encounter in the wood. She got clumsily to her feet.