Caroline raised her eyebrows enquiringly. “Yes, sir?”
There was suddenly a spark of devilment deep in Lewis’s blue eyes. Caroline’s heart missed a beat.
“There is one thing that I envy my sister for, Miss Whiston,” he said slowly, “and that is her friendliness with you where I must be formal—as you perceive, ma’am. May I not have a like privilege and address you by your name?”
“Oh!” Caroline pressed her hand to her throat. She remembered the caressing way in which Lewis had said her name on previous occasions, remembered suddenly the heat of his body against hers, the gentleness of his hands, the touch of his mouth…He had taken what he had wanted before. Now he was asking, but even so…
She moved away from him. “No, Captain Brabant. As I shall be leaving Hewly soon there is no necessity, and even were I to stay, that would be—”
“Inappropriate?” Lewis had followed her to the door. He did not touch her but to Caroline’s overstretched nerves the caressing effect of his voice was almost the same. “Unsuitable?”
He put a hand on her arm as she made to escape.
“One day, Caroline,” he said, very softly, “you will admit that under your very proper exterior is a most inappropriate governess. But until then—” he gave her a mocking bow “—I shall continue to address you as Miss Whiston. Goodnight, ma’am!”
He turned away and Caroline, regaining the use of her limbs, hurried out of the drawing-room and away to safety, without even waiting for a candle to light her way.
Caroline sat darning her second-best pair of black gloves and wondering what was to be done. She had spent another night tossing and turning, and for one who prided herself on sound sleep this was a dire sign indeed. The cause of her disturbance was, of course, Lewis Brabant, who had behaved in such an altogether quixotic and disconcerting manner the previous evening. It seemed unfair to Caroline that Lewis had immediately perceived the contradictions in her character that she had successfully kept concealed for the whole of her adult life. He had swiftly seen that there were two Caroline Whistons; the staid governess companion who wore the grey worsted and acted so properly, and the free spirit who read poetry and dreamed of romance. Except that the free spirit was not truly free, for it had always been subject to the practical aspects of earning an unromantic crust. The sober lady’s companion had always had the upper hand.
Caroline’s thread snapped and she bit back an unladylike epithet. She knew it was her own fault, as she had been taking out her ill temper on the inoffensive darning. Casting it aside, she went over to the window. Her room was at the back of the house and had a view across the walled gardens to the rolling Northamptonshire countryside beyond. She could see two of the maids shaking out a blanket on the terrace below, and away down the gardens, Belton and Lewis Brabant were deep in conversation as they inspected the walls in the old rose arbour. Caroline sighed. It was pointless to wonder what quality had drawn her to Lewis in such a wholly inappropriate manner. Perhaps it was the contradictions in his own nature that had sparked such recognition in her. The authoritative man of action who was also dangerously perceptive…She shivered and drew back from the window, almost as though she thought her regard would draw his gaze.
Mrs Guarding had always said that action was the best cure for the blue devils, so Caroline took up her cloak and set out. She took care to avoid the gardens, walking down the path to the orchard and out on to the lane. It was a bright, frosty winter’s day and her heart lifted a little with every step. She decided to make some calls.
Her first stop was the Guarding Academy itself. When Caroline had first returned to Steep Abbot, she had visited the school and had been made most welcome by Mrs Guarding. Her former teacher had delicately made no open reference to Caroline’s change in circumstances but had chatted about the changes at the school and the activities of some of the other girls Caroline had known. She had returned to Hewly Manor with an open invitation to visit whenever she wished, but she had not taken this up, perhaps because the school held so many memories for her. When she had first thought of leaving the Manor she had considered Mrs Guarding as a possible employer, but now she knew that that would never serve. The school was far too close to Hewly and therefore to Lewis, and the thought of Julia holding court nearby as Mrs Lewis Brabant was more than Caroline’s nature could take.
She rang the bell and discovered that Mrs Guarding was away, but received a very warm welcome from Miss Henrietta Mason, the history teacher. Caroline stayed for a cup of tea and enjoyed a long chat on the trials of trying to imbue young ladies with an interest in history and geography, which seemed to be the same whether taught in a private house or a forward-looking school. She finally left with a promise to visit Miss Mason again soon, and took the track towards Abbot Quincey.
Caroline turned aside from the road at Perceval Hall, as she had letters and messages for Lavender. She had not been intending to stay, but found herself invited to join the ladies in the saloon, and soon they were all chatting like old friends. After a while, Lavender suggested that Caroline accompany her to the church to lay a wreath on the Admiral’s grave.
“I hope you do not feel my desertion too keenly, Caroline!” Lavender said as they walked along. “Lady Perceval suggested that I should invite you to join me here, and if it were not for Julia—” She broke off. “I am sorry. My tongue runs away with me when I speak of her! Tell me, has she prevailed upon Captain Slater to elope yet?”
Caroline gave her a reproving look that was marred by the twinkle in her eye. “Lavender! You know you may well be speaking of your future sister-in-law!”
“I know it!” Lavender said gloomily. “The whole neighbourhood knows it! I have been quizzed on little else!”
They let themselves in through the lychgate and walked slowly up the path to the quiet corner plot. There was a simple headstone and the grave still looked freshly turned. Caroline cast an anxious look at Lavender, but the younger girl, although pale, appeared composed. She bent to put her circlet of berries and winter green on the dark earth.
“There!” She stood back. “I miss father so much, you know, Caroline! It is odd, for we spoke little and then not on matters of any great import, but I knew that if I ever needed his help, he would be there. He was a good man.” She sighed.
“I am sure that your brother can perform such an office for you now,” Caroline urged, anxious to comfort. “He has the same integrity.”
There was a pause. Lavender’s blue eyes searched Caroline’s face. Her own was troubled. “I am sure that you are correct, Caroline, but it is not so easy…” She did not need to mention Julia’s name again but it hung in the air between them. Then Lavender brushed the stray soil from her gloves and turned away.
“I think that father would have liked you,” she said conversationally. “He always admired spirit!”
Caroline laughed, despite herself. “I am scarcely spirited, Lavender! A governess cannot afford such luxuries of temperament! I must efface myself and creep about, quiet as a mouse!”
Now it was Lavender’s turn to laugh. She wrinkled up her nose. “Fustian to that, Caroline! What could be more spirited than having to go out into the world and earn a living? I do not mean spirit in the sense of wilfulness, but I believe you have true courage!”
Caroline was touched and sought to turn attention away from herself. “I wonder how the Marchioness of Sywell fares, poor creature!” she said lightly. “She must have had a strange time of it, with no friends either before or after her marriage—”
“Oh, Louise had a friend—” Lavender began, then broke off, the colour rushing into her face. Caroline watched in puzzlement, wondering if Lavender had been about to imply that the Marchioness had run away with a man, but after a moment, Lavender said, in a rush, “It’s just that I saw her several times speaking to Athene Filmer, who lives with her mother in Steep Ride. I believe they were firm friends.” She shot Caroline a shamefaced look. “There has always been much gossip about L
ouise Hanslope, I believe, but I never gave it credence! To suggest that she was the bailiff’s natural daughter was quite foolish and the tales going about now are even worse! I hate that sort of spite!” She took a deep breath. “Oh, I am sorry, Caroline! I am sure you were not expecting a sermon from me!”
Caroline was intrigued and a little amused at Lavender’s defence of the mysterious Louise. Perhaps it was that Lavender felt that both she and Louise were different, neither fitting comfortably into a conventional society. Certainly, Caroline could see that Lavender, with her honesty and lack of artifice, would find hurtful gossip to be nothing but malicious. The thought inevitably made Caroline see how difficult it would be for Lavender to live with Julia for any length of time, and they both made their way back to the lychgate with slow steps.
It was dusk by the time Caroline left Lavender at Perceval Hall, with her friend promising to return to Hewly within the week. Lady Perceval pressed her to take the carriage home, remarking that the January afternoons were short and that darkness could come up very quickly. Caroline thanked her and reassured her that there was plenty of time, and armed with a basket full of eggs, fresh churned butter and a loaf of bread that was still warm, she started to make her way back to Hewly through the twilight.
The moon was climbing up through the trees and Caroline drew her cloak closer about her. It was cold, far colder than it had been the previous night, and she thought that predictions of another snowfall could well be true. She began to wish that she had accepted the carriage after all. It was dark under the trees, and although she had strong nerves Caroline jumped a little at the strange rustlings of the undergrowth. She knew that she was almost back at the Hewly estate, but when she saw the flicker of faint lights in the woods up ahead, she froze in near panic. The lights dodged between the trees, glimmering in the darkness as though in some unearthly dance. Caroline inconveniently began to remember all the folk stories she had read about the countryside round and about the Manor, the tales of spirits in the woods, the story of the grey lady…
Abruptly she turned and plunged through the undergrowth, seeking the edge of the wood, and resolved to run across the open fields if she had to. She had barely gone thirty yards when the trees ended and she found herself on a rough track beside a high hawthorn hedge. Panting a little, she leant against a field gate to get her breath back, and jumped a mile when an unmistakable voice said, “I had no idea that you favoured such strenuous exercise, Miss Whiston! Dashing about in the woods at dusk! You are fortunate that I did not shoot you by accident!”
“Captain Brabant!” Caroline drew herself up and tried to catch her breath. She was not sure whether she was glad or annoyed to be caught out in such a situation. “Shooting in the dark does not sound a very sensible occupation!”
Lewis Brabant laughed. He let himself through the gate and stood beside her, his shotgun across his arm. “Do you seek to reproach me, Miss Whiston? Running around on your own is an even less sensible occupation and certainly not an appropriate one!”
“I thought I saw some lights in the wood—” Caroline began, to break off as Lewis’s hand closed firmly about her wrist.
“Miss Whiston, come closer to me—”
“What on earth—” Caroline stopped as he drew her deep into the shelter of the hedge. The sharp spikes of hawthorn prickled through her cloak, but still he pulled her deeper into the shadow. And then there was a step on the road, the sound of muffled voices, the rustle of leaves as the wind passed by, and they were left in silence once more.
Caroline realised that she had been holding her breath. She noticed in the same moment that she was pressed against the whole length of Lewis’s body, and stepped away hastily. “What…who…what was that?”
“Poachers,” Lewis said softly, unlatching the gate with the softest of clicks. “This way, Miss Whiston, and quickly. You can only just have missed them.”
He took her hand and pulled her quickly across the field, so that Caroline was almost running again in the effort to keep up. It was only when they reached a stile on the opposite side and tumbled down into the road that ran by the school that he allowed his pace to slacken.
“I don’t understand,” Caroline said, a little breathlessly, as she followed Lewis through the gateway into the Manor stable yard. “You had a gun—surely if you had challenged them—”
Lewis gave her a look that silenced her. His voice was low and angry. “Do you think that I would have dreamed of challenging a gang of poachers when I had you to protect, Miss Whiston? Of all the foolhardy actions…Please consider what might have happened if you had stumbled on them alone during your wanderings in the wood, and promise me that you will not indulge in such reckless behaviour again!”
Caroline knew that he was right but for some reason it grated on her to admit it. “I am not reckless! I always behave appropriately—”
Lewis flashed her a look of mingled irritation and contempt. “Oh, spare me the denials! You have no more idea how to go on than an infant in arms! The truth is that you are so bored with your circumscribed life that you get into danger through most unseemly behaviour!”
Caroline glared at him, furious now. “How dare you so criticise me, sir! At least I have the good manners to know that it is not fitting to argue in public!”
“Then let us step inside,” Lewis said with biting sarcasm, “so that I may quarrel with you in private! Your conduct is not only improper, Miss Whiston, but downright dangerous—”
One of the stable doors opened and a groom came out into the yard. Caroline bit back an angry retort and waited whilst Lewis handed the gun over and exchanged a few words. She toyed with the idea of leaving him there and stalking off into the house, but there was something in Lewis’s demeanour that suggested he would probably deal with her in a summary and unbecoming manner were she to do so.
“I see that Mrs Chessford and Captain Slater have returned,” she said tightly, nodding towards the carriage that was standing waiting to be put away. “At least we may have some congenial company at dinner!”
“I will allow you to exchange my unwelcome presence for Richard’s more agreeable company shortly,” Lewis said, as stiffly as she, “but not until I have your promise, Miss Whiston. You are too precipitate. You will not go wandering off alone again—”
Caroline felt as though she was going to burst with anger. She started to walk away towards the house. Lewis caught her arm.
“Miss Whiston!”
Caroline was appalled to find that there were tears in her eyes. She had no idea how they could have reached such a pitch of conflict. She had spent her working life soothing the sensibilities of others and it should have been easy to efface herself, give her word, dismiss the quarrel as unimportant. Yet as she looked up into Lewis’s angry face, all she wanted to do was to hurt him.
“You are not my employer, to constrain me so—”
Lewis’s brows snapped together. “No, I am not, as you were so good to remind me once before! Yet I must also remind you, Miss Whiston, that Hewly is my house and whilst you are under my roof you will submit to my instructions! Now, your word—”
“Oh, you have it, sir!” Caroline snatched her arm from his grasp. “Though why it could possibly matter—” She felt a sob rise in her throat and broke off. “And you need have no fear for my safety! Once I am gone from Hewly I shall be no more of your concern!”
She turned on her heel and walked off, and though she did not look back, she had the disconcerting feeling that Lewis was watching her all the way to the house.
It was largely due to Richard Slater’s presence that dinner was so pleasant an experience. Caroline had been dreading having to face Lewis again, but she found that he was perfectly civil to her. His manner was distant and he allowed Julia to monopolise his attention, suggesting to Caroline that he had already dismissed their quarrel from his mind. Richard, by contrast, gave her an amusing summary of the trip to Northampton, asked her opinion on the Luddite riots that were cau
sing so much trouble in towns and cities further north, and engaged her in a lively debate on the merits of the poems of Samuel Taylor Coleridge.
“Lud, poetry!” Julia yawned, when the discussion had finally come to a close. “What a pity Lavender is not here to converse with you both! She is a frighteningly accomplished young woman!” She smiled at Lewis. “’Tis a shame we cannot have any music, though I suppose with dear Uncle Harley so recently passed on…When do you expect Churchward to be here for the reading of the will, Lewis?”
“In a few days, I imagine.” Lewis reached over to pull the bell. “He writes that he has been delayed by the unfortunate death of Lord Nantwich.”
“Oh yes,” Julia looked animated. “Did he not die in a carriage accident with his mistress, whilst on the way to visit the family of his affianced bride? The on dit is that he had intended to install the woman in a local hostelry and visit her every evening! Why, did you know that…”
Caroline turned away and closed her ears to the gossip. It was an interesting fact that Julia had often declared herself to have forgotten everything she had ever learned at Mrs Guarding’s school, yet she maintained an encyclopedic knowledge of scandal.
They all retired early. Julia declared herself fatigued by the journey from Northampton, then insisted on having Caroline’s company in her room and chattered endlessly about Lewis and Richard Slater and which of them was the better prospect.
“For though Lewis is better-looking, Richard is more gallant! I find that Lewis has an odd, ironical way with him sometimes! But then there is the estate, for Lewis is quite a rich man, you know, and I have not been able to ascertain Richard’s fortune…”
Caroline had a decided headache by the time that she escaped to her bedroom. She sat down on the bed with a sigh and rubbed her aching temples. The room looked very cosy, with the fire burning bright and the candlelight concealing the worn patches in the rugs and curtains. There had been none of Julia’s home improvements here. Caroline reached up to unpin her hair, and at the same moment her eye caught a scrap of white protruding from under the bed. She bent down curiously and saw that it was the corner of a letter.
A Companion of Quality Page 14
