Blanchland Secret

by Nicola Cornick

  ‘Oh! Amelia! I am sorry, I was woolgathering! It is very peaceful here. No, I have been here but ten minutes. We have spent the afternoon on the final fitting of my wedding gown…’

  Her voice trailed away. To her cousin, she looked very unlike a young lady excited at the prospect of imminent marriage.

  ‘Have I missed much entertainment?’ Sarah asked listlessly.

  ‘No, not really. The children have been on an owl hunt!’ Amelia said, laughing. ‘Do you remember that from when you were young, Sarah? As though one could possibly catch an owl with those little broomsticks! Anyway, Clara’s little boy got stuck up a tree and had to be rescued by Guy! The owl flew off, of course!’

  Sarah smiled a little. ‘He is very kind, is he not, Amelia? I remember you saying how kind Guy was when he spoke to Jack Elliston at your ball…’ Her voice trailed off again.

  Amelia frowned again. ‘You sound very low, Sarah. Are you suffering from last-minute nerves?’

  Sarah shrugged tiredly. She drew her cloak more closely around her, as though to keep out the cold. ‘Surely you must have noticed how Guy has been avoiding me over the past week?’

  Amelia looked uncomfortable. ‘Well, I’ll allow there seems a certain distance…But he is very busy—there is much to do here.’

  Sarah shot her a withering glance. ‘You know full well that not a host of duties could keep a man from his fiancée’s side if he wished to be with her! Consider yourself and Greville! No, Guy chooses to shun me because he is trapped in a marriage he does not desire! Having undertaken to marry me to avoid scandal, he knows it will cause a greater one to break the engagement now!’

  There was a sudden scrape of stone on stone behind them. Both girls jumped and spun around, but there was nothing to be seen amongst the cold shadows of the church. The carved faces of the Woodallan tombs stared back at them.

  ‘A mouse…’ Amelia said doubtfully, drawing her skirts away from the floor. ‘You speak of a marriage of convenience, Sarah, which is strange when you remember how ardently Guy courted you! What can have changed that?’

  A shade of colour tinged Sarah’s cheeks. ‘Matters went awry from the start, Milly. It just took a little time for the whole to unravel!’ She sighed. ‘We neither of us trusted the other. I fell in love with Guy so swiftly, yet I barely knew him!’ Sarah shook her head. ‘Before we even reached Blanchland, I had overheard a conversation between Guy and his father that suggested that he was withholding information from me. So in return I did not confide when I had found Olivia…’ She gave a despairing shrug. ‘So you see, we had already sowed the seeds of distrust between us.’

  ‘I suppose it only made matters worse when you found out that he had been searching for Olivia,’ Amelia prompted gently.

  ‘Yes…’ Sarah fixed her gaze on the bright lozenges of colour on the stone floor. ‘Guy told me that his father had asked him to find Olivia and persuade her to vanish without any trouble. I was appalled. It sounded so callous—as though Guy would do anything to prevent his sister’s reputation being harmed! Oh, Guy swore that he would not have carried it through, that it would not serve…and I believed him, but I was shocked, and once again the doubt was there.’

  ‘So when you came upon him in the Folly Tower, when he was supposed to be here at Woodallan—’

  Sarah nodded dolefully. ‘I told you that I rashly accused him of attacking her! To tell the truth, I was in turmoil, Milly! I had just convinced myself that I trusted him, and then I saw him acting so suspiciously! When I found Olivia unconscious…’ her shoulders slumped ‘…well, I was tired and distraught, but it is no excuse. I showed that I did not trust him, and he cannot forgive me, and that was the end, as far as we were concerned! Whatever love was starting to grow between us has been crushed by this!’

  Neither of them spoke for a little, then Sarah shivered convulsively. ‘How can I marry Guy when this is between us? I would run away if I had anywhere to go, and damn Blanchland and damn the danger to my reputation! This is breaking my heart!’

  Amelia put her arm around her. ‘Come away from here. You are frozen, Sarah!’

  They went out of the chapel slowly, still talking in low voices. Amelia latched the heavy door behind them and their footsteps died away along the gravel path to the house. It was only when they had gone and the silence settled once more that there was a flicker of movement behind the leper squint, the soft footfall as someone descended the stone steps. The figure paused by a window, waited until the two girls had disappeared from view, then quietly let himself out of the chapel.

  It was late that night when Guy received a summons to his father’s study. The room was set up much as it had been on the occasion when the Earl had broken the momentous news about his secret grandchild: there was a warm fire, a good book and two glasses for brandy.

  ‘Sit down, Guy,’ the Earl said, gesturing to the chair his son had occupied on the previous occasion.

  ‘Another brandy, sir?’ Guy raised his eyebrows. He poured for himself and brought the decanter across to his father.

  ‘Thank you.’ The Earl put his book down and considered his son thoughtfully. ‘In point of fact, I asked you here so that I could thank you—for persuading me not to be such a stiff-necked old fool as to turn away my own grandchild because of the misdemeanours of her parents! It has been a pleasure to meet her.’

  Guy smiled. His gaze was on the amber liquid swirling in his glass. ‘I am glad that you like Miss Meredith. She is a credit to her adoptive parents, I think.’

  ‘They did a good job,’ the Earl concurred. His thick dark eyebrows drew together. ‘Young Lebeter seems to know what he’s about. I dare say I may trust Olivia to him. A fine thing to find and lose one’s granddaughter in the space of a few weeks!’

  ‘It is not as bad as that, sir,’ Guy pointed out. ‘The engagement is likely to be a long one. There is the Dowager Lady Lebeter to bring around, after all!’

  ‘Difficult woman!’ the Earl said feelingly.

  ‘I understand that Mama is trying to persuade Mrs Meredith to take a house on the estate here, at least until Olivia’s future is settled,’ Guy added. ‘A sound idea. Yours, I take it?’

  ‘You do your mother too little justice,’ the Earl said gruffly. ‘It was her idea, and I was happy to endorse it. I should like to see more of the child.’

  ‘Of course. I believe that Greville and Lady Amelia have also invited the Merediths to stay with them in Bath, though I should imagine that with their own wedding…’

  ‘They may wish for some time alone together first,’ the Earl observed. ‘We must give some thought to Olivia’s presentation to society in a little, when matters quieten down.’

  Guy moved to build up the fire, then resumed his seat across from his father.

  ‘We spoke before of the danger of Allardyce spreading scandal,’ he said, a little hesitantly. ‘Do you think—?’

  The Earl made a dismissive gesture. ‘There will be speculation over Olivia’s birth—it is inevitable. We need not regard it, however. With powerful friends…’ He let the sentence hang.

  Guy knew what he meant. The Earl of Woodallan had immense influence, for all that he had lived retired for the previous few years. Allardyce’s malicious stirring could do little damage, particularly with Olivia safely betrothed and Catherine Renshaw long dead. Society would always gossip, but equally a new scandal would always come along to distract attention. Guy drained his glass and stood up.

  ‘Well, I am happy that all has turned out for the best. You must excuse me, sir, if you will. There is much to be done before tomorrow—’

  ‘There is another matter on which I wished to speak with you.’ The Earl’s tone had hardened slightly. ‘I have been thinking that it would be better to postpone your marriage to Miss Sheridan.’

  Guy’s gaze narrowed. ‘I beg your pardon, sir?’

  ‘I believe you heard me. You had better sit down again.’

  His son obeyed without demur. ‘What is this all
about, sir?’

  The Earl sighed, fixing his son with his steely dark gaze. ‘We have all observed that there is an estrangement between yourself and Miss Sheridan. It is hardly the best way to approach a marriage!’

  Guy looked away. He spoke a little stiffly. ‘It is true that there are some difficulties—’

  ‘All the more reason to delay, then, assuming that you are able to untangle these difficulties at all! Perhaps it would be wiser to cancel—’

  ‘No!’ Guy put his glass down so abruptly that the liquid spilled. ‘That cannot be, sir. We spoke just now of scandal—if my marriage to Miss Sheridan does not take place, the rumour and gossip will rip her to shreds!’

  The Earl shifted slightly. ‘So this is solely an altruistic act, Guy?’ His voice was dry. ‘Very noble of you, my boy, but another poor reason for marriage! No wonder you resent the girl so much that you can barely bring yourself to speak to her!’

  Guy flushed. ‘It is not like that, sir—’

  His father continued as though he had not spoken. ‘No, your motives do you credit, Guy, but it will not serve.’ He lowered his voice confidentially. ‘To tell the truth, it quite relieves me that you do not care for the girl. You are my only son, and heir to an Earldom. Why throw yourself away on a match that brings us no material benefits? Oh, the Sheridan name was once respected in this county, but she has no fortune or connections to recommend her—’

  ‘You mistake me, sir,’ Guy said, a note of barely concealed anger in his voice. ‘I still wish the marriage to take place and I am surprised to hear you speak thus of your goddaughter!’

  The Earl avoided his gaze. ‘Well, I say that it shall not happen. The more I think about it, the more I am convinced that it would be a mistake! And do not trouble yourself over Miss Sheridan’s situation. I will help her!’

  ‘Help her, sir?’ Guy’s tone was dangerous. ‘In what way will you…help her?’

  ‘Why, to find a position, of course!’ The Earl gestured largely. ‘It would be best for her to travel at first, until the scandal of her trip to Blanchland dies down. There must be someone—a respectable lady travelling abroad—who would appreciate a companion. I can easily persuade Miss Sheridan that it would be in her best interests—’

  ‘I do beg you, sir, not to interfere!’ Guy’s tone was clipped. ‘I have said that I still wish to marry Miss Sheridan—’

  The Earl brought his fist down hard on the arm of his chair. ‘And I say you shall not! I will find some solution, deal with the girl—’

  ‘As you would have had me deal with Miss Meredith?’ Guy’s body was rigid with anger now. He stood glaring at his father. ‘I know how you like to arrange such matters, sir! Miss Sheridan is to disappear conveniently—’

  ‘Is that so?’ his father said, in an entirely different tone. ‘You think that I will just sweep her aside, pay her off? You have known me for twenty-nine years, Guy—in all that time, how often have you seen me act thus?’

  ‘Never! But I—’

  ‘But you remembered that I had threatened to do so with Miss Meredith, so when I spoke of helping Miss Sheridan, you assumed I planned to treat her in the same way. No!’ The Earl held up a hand as his son attempted to speak. ‘Hear me out. There is something I wish you to consider. Imagine for just a moment that you have known someone not thirty years but a week…ten days, say.’ His gaze took on a sardonic light. ‘Think of Miss Sheridan, for example, as you knew her ten days ago.’ He paused and took a draught of the brandy.

  ‘She was alone in a difficult situation. She had always been alone, when one considers it! Her cousin gave her support, but Lady Amelia did not know the matter that took them to Blanchland! And you and I—who should have supported her, who had promised our aid—’ he stressed the word ‘—we were the worst of all, for we deceived her! I never told her my secret desire to find Olivia first, and neither did you!’

  ‘I told her later—’

  ‘Too late! Miss Sheridan had started to trust you. You were someone on whom she thought she could rely, but slowly she began to feel that you were not being open with her. She did not know what to do. She had known you for less than two weeks and…’ the Earl’s voice was dry ‘…an instant and mutual attraction is not necessarily a basis for trust! She kept her own counsel, waiting for you to reveal the truth. Eventually you did—you admitted to something that appalled her! I had asked you to spirit away her niece, to pay her off, to help her to disappear!’

  Guy was watching his father very gravely now. He did not interrupt.

  ‘Imagine,’ the Earl said, shifting in his chair as though he were in pain, ‘how lonely it must have been for Miss Sheridan! She was the one who was brave enough to originally respond to Olivia’s plea for help, she was alone in the world with only Lady Amelia to help her, she thought she could trust you and then she finds she knows not what to believe. Is it so surprising that, when Miss Sheridan finds her niece unconscious and apparently in your power, she jumps to the obvious conclusion?’ The Earl smiled faintly. ‘You yourself have demonstrated how easily that is done but five minutes ago!’

  There was dead silence. A rueful smile began to curl the corners of Guy’s mouth. ‘Forgive me, sir, but you have the most damnable way—’ He broke off, shaking his head.

  ‘Of making you see the truth?’ the Earl said drily.

  Guy sat back in his chair with a sigh. ‘How did you know what had happened between Miss Sheridan and myself?’

  The Earl spoke with some considerable satisfaction. ‘I heard it from Miss Sheridan. Those parts I did not hear, I worked out for myself. I was right, was I not?’

  ‘Perfectly, but…’ Guy frowned ‘…surely Sarah did not tell you this herself?’

  ‘No.’ The Earl smiled. ‘I overheard. Miss Sheridan was speaking to her cousin and unaware that I was there. She said plenty more, Guy, but that is not for me to pass on. By the way…’ a smile warmed his voice ‘…my real opinion of Miss Sheridan has been expressed once before. She is good and brave and true—so do not lose her, I beg!’ His shoulders shook with laughter. ‘I thought you were about to plant me a facer when I spoke so slightingly of her earlier!’

  ‘If it had been anyone else, sir,’ Guy said feelingly, ‘I would have done so!’

  ‘Well,’ the Earl said gruffly, ‘it was damnably hard to deceive you, but you needed a lesson! I could see you were about to throw away all that you held dear!’

  Guy drained his glass. ‘I had better go and find my bride…’

  ‘And be quick about it!’ his father advised.

  Guy took the stairs in double time, but he was too late. A scandalised Lady Woodallan answered the door of Sarah’s room and told him in no uncertain terms that it was bad luck for a groom to see his bride on the night before the wedding. Guy was left to kick his heels and hope against hope that he had not secured his own bad luck through his foolish pride.

  Chapter Twelve

  The church was brilliantly lit. Hundreds of white candles threw their light down from the sconces and illuminated the passages from the scriptures that were framed in red panels on the wall. Everywhere was Christmas greenery: branches of holly and laurel, pine cones and berries, red and gold streamers…Sarah, escorted up the aisle on her godfather’s arm, caught her breath at the bright beauty of it all.

  In the end there had been no escape. Lady Woodallan had come to her the night before and had spoken to her gently and sincerely about the family’s happiness that she was marrying Guy and the conviction his parents held that she was exactly the right bride for him. The Countess had touched delicately on the short acquaintance between them, encouraging Sarah not to be afraid, and suggesting that she already knew and understood Guy so well that they might have known each other far longer. In the end, Sarah had burst into overwrought tears and her godmother had hugged her gently and told her that all would be well. Then Sarah had slept, and now it was her wedding day…

  She was very aware of Guy beside her, so handsome in green and
white to complement her gown and the colours of the season. When she stole a look at his face, she thought he seemed grave, a little withdrawn, until he gave her a smile of such sudden brilliance that her heart leapt and she allowed herself to think that now, even if only for a little, his remoteness had vanished.

  The service seemed to be over in minutes, both of them making their vows in clear and resolute tones. Sarah walked up the aisle on her husband’s arm, aware of smiling faces all around them.

  ‘Sarah, you look so beautiful,’ Guy whispered to her. ‘I must speak with you—’

  He broke off as they reached the church porch and were inundated by a crowd of villagers all wanting to wish them well.

  ‘A kiss for the bride!’ someone shouted, holding up a sprig of mistletoe.

  Guy bent his head and touched his lips to Sarah’s. The kiss was light and cold, like the brush of a snowflake. Sarah shivered. The sky was darkening ominously with the next fall of snow and the air was chill, but she felt as though a tide of heat had swept through her. Aware of her blush, she turned closer into Guy’s arms.

  ‘Make way there!’ The crowd parted good-humouredly to allow them through to the carriage just as the first flakes of snow started to fall.

  Guy helped his bride up into the coach and took the seat opposite her. He leant forward urgently.

  ‘Sarah, I know we have not much time alone, but I must tell you—’

  The door swung open.

  ‘Guy! I am so sorry—’ The Countess of Woodallan was in the doorway, looking apologetic as her gaze moved from her son to Sarah. ‘Would you object to taking up Olivia and Lady Amelia? They walked over to the church, of course, but now that it has started to snow…’

  Guy gave Sarah a rueful smile. ‘Not at all, Mama! Let them come up at once! This is no weather to be standing about…’

  Olivia was very excited and chattered about the wedding for all of the short journey back to the house.