*
Damaris was alone in the drawing room that afternoon, reading a book, when his lordship called to suggest a drive.
'I really ought not to go out,' she replied, but reluctantly. She had been awoken during the night when Amelia, in the throes of a nightmare, had screamed so loudly the whole household had been disturbed. Then she had not been able to go back to sleep.
'Is Lady Gordon ill again?'
Damaris explained.
'The child does not get better. Mary is very concerned, she thinks the air in London does not suit her, and is wondering whether to go to Weymouth immediately. She is torn, feeling I have not been participating in the Season as much as she intended, and therefore she has not done her duty by me. She will not accept that I have no desire to attend more balls and soirées and picnics, and as for riding in the Park, I would much prefer to have a gallop on the moors at home.'
'Would you return to Yorkshire if Lady Gordon went to the seaside?'
'I may go to Weymouth for a few weeks. But do tell me, did you discover any more about that trick to lure me to Chelsea?'
'It was Lord Ryecot who sent out the letters to entice me and the other men there, and I suspect it was Catherine Cartwright who planned it all. Her groom, who was probably the man we saw there, is most conveniently out of town.'
'Why? What had she to gain by such a stupid hoax?'
'It was pure malice. She did not expect to gain anything, apart from satisfaction in foiling what she had concluded was my objective.'
Damaris was puzzled.
'Your objective?'
He grinned at her.
'She had mistaken the purpose of our drives and rides together, Miss Hallem. Many people suspect I am courting you with the objective of gaining the Castle as well as yourself. She was, to be blunt, jealous.'
Damaris felt her cheeks growing warm, and bent over her book.
'I see. She was your mistress, wasn't she?' she said. 'She was dismissed when you set out to offer for me.'
'I don't deny it, but I could scarcely be keeping a mistress at the same time as I was trying to persuade you to marry me.'
She noted the past tense. So he had given up that notion. She should be pleased, but her difficult heart refused to obey her head.
'I don't believe all men are so scrupulous. But I suppose these poor women always have to be prepared to be discarded when it suits their protectors.'
What a difficult and precarious existence these unfortunate women led, she thought sadly, and wondered how they happened to fall into such a way of life.
Luke shrugged. 'They understand. It is always a business arrangement, and I gave Miss Cartwright a substantial parting present. Besides, women like her always find new protectors.'
'Yet her jealousy implies she had some feeling for you. I am rather sorry for her.'
'When she tried to ruin you? Her only feeling was pique to think she had been supplanted. But enough of her. The plan was foiled through my cousin Jennifer's deplorable behaviour. She and my aunt, by the way, have retreated to Norfolk, and will not be coming to London again for a long time. And Clarence has gone in immoderate haste to Yorkshire, hoping to force your reluctant cousin into marriage, without first discovering whether Jennifer desired it. Which she assures me she does not.'
Damaris frowned.
'Yorkshire? Humphrey? I don't understand.'
'Then he failed to inform you? He fled, to be plain with you. He left no message for Jennifer, and nothing to say where he was going, but we assume it must be Whitby. The hotel could not help, he departed in a hackney cab and left no forwarding address.'
Damaris began to laugh.
'Poor Humphrey! He always hated to be made a fool of, or be an object of pity. He would have been so embarrassed. He could never abide being forced into any action, though, so Clarence would have had great difficulty in persuading him to act the gentleman. It's fortunate for your cousin if she is sincere in not wishing for such a marriage.'
'I believe she is. At least you are free of his admonitions now.'
At that moment Mary came into the room, and smiled at the Earl.
'Have you discovered the reasons for that plot?' she asked.
He told her, briefly, then asked if she intended to remove to Weymouth soon.
'I cannot decide. If Sir Thomas comes back within a few days I think we will go, but it depends on him.'
'And there is our third chess game, my lord,' Damaris said. 'We ought to arrange that as soon as possible, in case I leave town.'
'You still look pale. I have a suggestion. You could all come to stay at my house, Beechcroft Manor. It is in the Chilterns, and the country air would benefit the children, it would be quieter than at the seaside in a busy resort. They can run about, explore the woods, ride ponies, and we can have our chess game when you, Miss Hallem, are not looking so pale and weary.'
Mary looked wistful, then shook her head.
'Thank you. It is tempting. but it would not do, my lord.'
'Propriety? Would it make a difference if I told you my sister and her husband are staying there? And it is my mother's favourite house, too. She spends most of her time there, and would welcome you.'
He had never before mentioned his mother. Damaris had not known whether she was alive, even.
Mary took a deep breath, glanced at Damaris, and smiled.
'Then I would be happy to accept. I am most grateful.'
How did she feel about living in the Earl's house? Damaris did not know. Would she find being in his company difficult? But for the sake of the children she had to accept.
'Sir Thomas could join you as soon as he returns from Ireland, then you can decide whether you move to Weymouth, but you would be welcome to stay as long as you liked.'
*
It was agreed that Lady Gordon and her children, with Damaris and the maids, would travel to Beechcroft Manor in three days' time, leaving the rest of the servants to close up the house and await instructions on where to go after Sir Thomas came back from Ireland. Luke set off on the following morning to prepare his family for the invasion.
Barbara, informed of the expected guests, questioned him remorselessly about his motives, especially when she discovered that Miss Hallem was the owner of Frayne Castle.
'Are you planning to marry her?' she demanded.
He had never had any secrets from his sister, who was only a year his junior.
'I offered for her, before I really knew her,' he confessed. 'Very rightly, she discerned my motives, and turned me down. Then she made me the most incredible wager.'
'She sounds just the sort of girl you need,' Barbara told him when he had explained. 'You would soon become bored with anyone who was predictable, or too conventional.'
'I'm not at all sure I would appreciate an unconventional wife! I will depend on the next game to decide the fate of Frayne Castle. But Barbara, don't tell Alex or Mama, please. Mama has been fiercely against all sorts of gambling, ever since she heard about Father's exploits when he was young, and Alex has always slightly disapproved of me.'
Alex, he privately considered, was a prig, but Barbara loved him and he apparently made her happy.
'Only because you refuse to settle down and provide heirs. He detests Clarence and dreads the possibility he will succeed you. As I do.'
Luke shrugged. He knew it was his duty, but he had never met a girl he could contemplate living with for the next twenty or thirty years. They would bore or irritate him within weeks. He thrust away the sudden realization that he had not yet become bored with Damaris Hallem, and he had seen far more of her, despite the times when she had been nursing Lady Gordon's children, or ill herself, than any other debutante of the past ten years or so.
Could he, after all, be coming to care for her? He rejected the idea of being in love. That was mawkish sentimentality, the stuff of Minerva Press novels and the dreams of silly romantic females. But could he, if she would now accept him, be content to marry her?
On his way back, having come to no firm conclusions, he called at one of the farms belonging to the estate. Jenkins, the farmer, bred horses, and Luke was easily persuaded to walk round the stable yard and look out over the paddocks where the mares and the new foals grazed.
'See my new venture?' Jenkins asked. 'Shetland ponies.'
Luke admired the half dozen tiny, dainty little horses, ranging in size from seven to ten hands, and a variety of colours.
'From Scotland, I assume. I have heard of them, but never before seen them. What will they be used for?'
'I plan to breed them and sell as children's ponies. They are intelligent, and gentle if treated well. They are very strong for their size, too, and can pull carts. They could be used to train children to drive.'
Luke made up his mind.
'I have two children coming to stay with me for a few weeks. Can I buy two of them from you? Are the mares in foal?'
'Not this year. I haven't found a suitable stallion yet. How old are the children?'
'A boy of two and a girl of five.'
'That smallest, the skewbald, would suit the lad, and the palomino would probably be the girl's favourite. Lasses like pretty colours.'
'Can you bring them over tomorrow? And teach my head groom what he needs to know. Do you have harness and saddles?'
'I'll bring whatever you need. But my lord, if they are not being ridden next year, when I hope to have found my stallion, can I breed from them?'
*
Even Amelia showed some animation at the prospect of going to the country. She had been very listless ever since her illness, and visits to the shops to buy more clothing for her dolls had not helped for more than the briefest half hour. Mary had become increasingly concerned.
They set off early in the morning, and on this journey Tommy travelled with Nurse and the two maids in the second coach, and Amelia with Mary and Damaris.
Damaris was quiet, wondering how she would feel living in the same house as his lordship. She was both eager and apprehensive.
When they reached the Chiltern hills they halted for a picnic meal Cook had prepared for them. Cold chicken and ham, fruit and cheese, and small almond cakes to tempt the children were consumed in a grassy glade at the side of a small stream, surrounded by thickly wooded hillsides. There were still some bluebells under the trees, in what must have been a misty sky-reflecting carpet a few weeks before. Amelia found the energy to pick a few, and informed Damaris she was going to give them to the Earl when they reached his home.
'I like the country,' she said firmly. 'I didn't like London, it was noisy and smelly.'
'Can you smell different things here?' Damaris asked, amused.
'Yes, but they're nice smells. I like the smell of grass, and bluebells, and the trees. And I like the sound of birds and the stream. Can I paddle?'
'Not today,' Mary said hastily. 'Wait until you are really better. I'm sure the Earl will have a stream where you can paddle.'
It was mid afternoon when they had passed through Wycombe, and turned off the Oxford road to drive southwards for a few miles. Some of the hills were very steep, and the horses had to strain to pull the coaches up the lanes, which were often rutted and difficult. Damaris got down and walked up some of the hills, already feeling better than she had for weeks. Clearly the London air did not suit her any more than it did Amelia, she decided.
At length they passed through a gateway in a boundary wall, and were greeted by a mob-capped woman standing in the neat garden of a tiny gatehouse. The driveway wound upwards through a beech wood until it emerged onto a wide stretch of parkland where sheep were grazing. The house, a modest Tudor building, faced to the south and behind it, on a steeper slope of the hill, were more beech trees.
'They give the house its name, I take it,' Mary said. 'I had heard how these hills were covered in beeches, but I have only passed through them before, on the way to the west, and never stayed.'
The park to the south of the house was separated from the formal gardens by a ha-ha, but the drive swept round to the east where there was a thick beech hedge. The coaches passed through wide gates to come to a halt in front of the open door.
Damaris was admiring the mullioned windows, and the colourful flower beds which lay beneath them and along the drive, and did not immediately see the woman who emerged from the house until she spoke.
'Welcome to the Manor, Lady Gordon. And you must be Miss Hallem. Do come in, you must be quite tired from sitting in a coach all day. I'm Barbara Cobham. My husband and my brother Luke are somewhere about on the home farm. I don't think they expected you quite so early. But come in and be introduced to my mother.'
She bent to talk to Amelia, who had been lifted down from the coach, and after a few words Damaris could not hear took the child's hand and led her into the house. The second coach was pulling up now, and two footmen appeared to unload the luggage. They were followed by two housemaids, come to escort Nurse and Tommy, who was fast asleep, to their quarters, while Kate and Netta directed the footmen where to take the various trunks and other luggage.
The hall was low ceilinged, dark panelled, but cheerful with the glow of copper vases filled with bright flowers. Barbara led the way into a parlour, and Damaris found herself looking at an elderly woman who was so like the Earl there was no doubt of her identity.
'My dears, do come in. Sit down, tea will come in a few minutes. Did you have a pleasant journey?'
They were made so welcome Damaris forgot any constraint she had been feeling at the prospect of being in the Earl's house. The Countess asked how she had enjoyed the Season, commiserated with Mary about the illnesses the children had suffered, and compared notes with her about the remedies each had used. Barbara took Amelia over to a table by the window to show her some picture books, saying she would go up to the nursery soon, and be able to play with all the toys she had possessed when she was Amelia's age.
At one point the Countess glanced over at her daughter, and Damaris surprised a wistful look in her eye. Turning and seeing Damaris looking at her she sighed.
'Barbara has no children, which is a great sorrow to her,' she said quietly. 'She always enjoys playing with visiting little ones.'
They drank tea and ate ratafia biscuits, then Barbara offered to take Amelia and Mary to the nursery, and show her to her bedroom.
'I will come back for you later, Miss Hallem.'
Damaris was left alone with the Countess, who was regarding her with a smile in her eyes.
She must be in her fifties, Damaris thought, but she was still a handsome woman. Her hair was curly, a uniform iron grey, but she made no attempt to hide it. She wore a dainty lace cap on her curls, and her dress was in the latest fashion. She picked up some embroidery she had been busy with when they arrived, and Damaris noticed her hands, with long slender fingers, and the ring with the single ruby, a deep, rich red, and so big it looked too heavy for her.
'So you are the girl who has kept my son occupied this Season,' she said, and for a wild moment Damaris thought she knew all about the chess games and the gamble.
'I – I – ' she stammered.
The Countess laughed.
'Don't be bashful, child. I know my son, and he rarely mentions his flirts when he writes to me. Usually they don't last very long and by the next letter are history. But your name has cropped up in his letters with considerable frequency. I am happy to have an opportunity of knowing you. I don't come to London now, I prefer to stay here and tend my gardens.'
Damaris was saved from replying by the entry of the Earl and another man, who was introduced as Sir Alex Cobham, Barbara's husband. Queries as to their journey, the health of the children, and discussion of plans for their entertainment during the next few days occupied the
time until Barbara came back, apologizing for having been so long, and whisking Damaris away to show her to her bedroom.
'We keep country hours, we will meet again in about half an hour. They have taken up hot water for a bath. It may be a rush, so do not worry if you cannot be on time. We will wait for you.'
'Thank you, I can be on time if Netta has unpacked a gown for me.'
'Good. Now, Damaris, please do not be offended, but Alex and I go back to India in September, and I would like to see Luke married before then. He has taken such a long time to find someone.'
***
Chapter 16
The children were ecstatic the next morning when they saw the Shetland ponies, who had been put in a small paddock adjacent to the stable yard. The head groom, shaking his head at Lord Frayne's latest notion, led them over and held the halters while the children petted them. Even Tommy was able to reach to stroke the small heads, and both children pushed their hands through the thick coats, and demanded to be lifted onto the broad backs, too excited to wait for the ponies to be saddled.
Damaris, who had spent a restless night wondering why Barbara had assumed the Earl wanted to marry her, whether he had reverted to his original plan in case he lost the final game, and wondering why the notion made her feel uncomfortable and uncertain, pushed the speculations away. She admired the sturdy little animals, with their short legs and long silky manes and tails. In particular she, as well as Amelia, was delighted with the flaxen colour of the palomino's mane and tail which contrasted so beautifully against the dark bay coat. Fortunately Tommy was enchanted with the skewbald markings, grey and chestnut, so there were no arguments over which pony each child wanted to ride.
The children, lifted onto the ponies, dug their hands into the thick manes to hold on, and Luke and the groom led them round the paddock. Mary was blinking back tears as she looked at the blissful expressions on her children's faces.
'My lord, this was a wonderful notion of yours. I am going to have to buy them ponies like these when we go home,' she told Luke as he walked the ponies past her.
After a while the ponies were coaxed into a gentle trot, and the children, shrieking with laughter, bounced up and down while being held safely.
Marriage Gamble Page 18
