by Mary Nichols
His conversation with Charlotte had been abruptly halted and nothing had been explained or clarified. And the jewellery still nestled in his pocket. Impatient as he was, he would have to wait for a more propitious moment. ‘Lady Hobart has a school,’ he explained to his daughter as they walked, a little ahead of the others. ‘But it is a very unusual school.’
‘Indeed it is,’ she said. ‘A school for vagabonds and peasants…’
‘And young ladies. Elizabeth and Frances are young ladies. Did you not find them pleasant companions?’
‘Pleasant enough considering how common they are. And the other children are so dirty and ragged…’
‘They cannot help being poor, Julia. You are fortunate that you will never know poverty, but that does not mean you cannot show compassion towards those who do not have your advantages.’
‘Papa, you are surely not intending to put me to school here?’
‘Do you not think you should like it?’
‘It will be like all the others. You will hand me over like a worn-out portmanteau and leave me. And then everyone will be horrid and expect me to sit still and learn stuffy lessons and I shall be forced to run away.’
‘I think that would be a very foolish thing to do.’ He paused. Julia had been so much more amenable lately he had thought, had hoped, she would raise no objections, especially when she discovered how easygoing Charlotte was.
‘I do not see why I have to go to school at all. I can learn all I need to know at home.’
‘You know why,’ he said and could not keep his irritation from his voice. He had made such plans, had so many dreams, had hoped, oh, how he had hoped, that his daughter would learn to love Charlotte as he did. What would he do if they could not deal well together? More to the point, what would Charlotte do? She would refuse him, of that he was certain. Her own children had to be considered too. Oh, why was love so complicated? There had been nothing complicated about his marriage to Anne-Marie, but then that had not been based on love. ‘You do not behave properly when you are at home. It is not only literature and mathematics you need to study, but how to conduct yourself as a young lady—’
‘By consorting with peasants. Papa, you are so inconsistent. You did not like me associating with that village boy at Malcomby, but those—’ she tossed her head backwards at the children toiling up the path behind them ‘—are no different. Except, of course, for the lady, though I must be very ill informed, for I did not think it was quite the thing for ladies to allow themselves to be picked up and carried by gentlemen—’
‘That is enough, Julia,’ he snapped. ‘You have far too much to say for yourself.’
‘Miss Darton.’ Charlotte had come up behind them without either of them realising she was there. He wondered how much she had heard. ‘It is not as a schoolgirl that I would like you to stay, but as a pupil teacher for the little ones. I really need some help.’
Julia turned to look at her in surprise. ‘Why me? I am ignorant. Papa is always telling me so. And are you not afraid I should lead them astray? I am also very wicked, you know.’ She spoke almost as if she were boasting.
‘Wicked?’ Charlotte queried, pretending to take her seriously. ‘Who says you are wicked?’
‘Everyone. Grandmother and Miss Handy and Papa.’
Charlotte gave Stacey a withering look that stopped him from speaking, just as he opened his mouth. ‘But what do you think? Do you think you are wicked?’
Julia sighed. ‘I must be or I should not be at such odds with everyone.’
‘I am sure you are nothing of the kind,’ Charlotte said. ‘But perhaps you would do better if you could get away from all these people who are for ever finding fault. I really do need some help with the little ones, you know.’
‘You mean it?’
‘Oh, yes. You help me and I will help you to overcome this shocking reputation you have.’ It was said with a genuine smile and Charlotte was rewarded with a little giggle. ‘Shall we make a bargain?’
‘What bargain?’
‘A month’s trial and if you do not like it, then I shall ask your papa to take you home and you may find somewhere more to your liking.’ She stopped. ‘But you have not seen the school yet, have you? My goodness, I would not expect you to make such an important decision without first inspecting the premises. Come, we are nearly there.’ Putting the onus of making a decision on Julia herself had a wondrous effect on the child. She was actually smiling as they reached the top of the cliff and Charlotte led the way back to the school, ignoring Stacey who followed in pensive silence.
The tour of the school was undertaken after Charlotte had sent the village children home and Stacey’s horse and carriage had been taken to the stable where Jenkins, who had been pleased to come and work for a few hours each day, showed Jem where everything was and afterwards conducted him to the kitchen where Betsy provided him with a meal. Then Stacey and Charlotte left Julia to talk to Lizzie and Fanny in the schoolroom and adjourned to her sitting room, where Betsy brought in the tea tray. They had said very little since coming into the house; there was a constraint between them that made every thought, every opening gambit too full of pitfalls to utter. She busied herself making the tea to cover their awkwardness.
‘The establishment is satisfactory?’ she enquired at last, raising her head to meet his gaze and wishing that she had not. He was studying her intently, his brown eyes watchful as if he wanted to catch her out, to discover what was in her mind. If only he knew! She squirmed inwardly. Oh, why did he have to come back and upset her hard-won equilibrium all over again? Why could he not have stayed away and left her in peace? But only half an hour before she had been longing for his return, praying for it. Did she know what she wanted?
‘You mean for Julia?’
‘Of course I mean for Julia. We are not talking about anyone else, are we?’
‘No, no one else,’ he said. ‘And the school will do very well, but why did you tell her you needed help? How can she be a teacher? She is—’
‘The daughter of a viscount and granddaughter of an earl,’ Charlotte finished for him. ‘And therefore above such a lowly occupation.’
He decided not to tell her he knew of her own aristocratic connections. She had never mentioned it and would want to know how he knew and he could not tell her of his visit to Hardacre. Besides, he did not want her to think he was influenced by such things. ‘I was not going to say that at all, my lady. I was thinking of what she might teach your pupils. She may lead them astray, as she said she might.’
‘She said nothing of the sort. She asked me did I think she would, which is a very different thing. And she will not be left unsupervised, you may be sure.’ She handed him a cup of tea, sitting in its deep saucer. ‘Julia needs to feel valued, my lord, and by asking for her help, I am trying to show that she is.’
He smiled suddenly. ‘Here endeth the second lesson.’
‘I am sorry, my lord, I did not mean to preach at you, but why the second—has there been a first?’ She handed him a plate and offered the cakes.
‘Indeed there has,’ he said, taking one, though he did not begin eating it. ‘That is why I have been so long away. Lesson one was that I should spend more time with my daughter.’
‘Oh.’ She felt deflated and then suddenly stiffened her spine. ‘That does not explain why you did not come back to Parson’s End before you went home.’
‘No, but I wrote to you at Easterley Manor, which was the only direction I had. I explained that I had received an urgent summons to go home because Julia was gravely ill. I am afraid I abandoned my errand of selling your jewels in my haste to go to her. I thought I would sell them in Norwich instead and send the money to you, but she was so ill, I did not leave her bedside for two weeks and then I felt I ought to wait until she was strong enough to travel.’
Charlotte was stricken with guilt and forgot her animosity. ‘Oh, my lord, I am so sorry. Please forgive me…’
‘I assume you did not r
eceive my letter?’
‘No. Oh, dear, and did you enclose the money? If you did, then I am afraid—’
‘No, I would not be so foolish as to do that, knowing how matters stood at Easterly Manor. In any case, by the time I was able to leave Julia for a few hours, I had seen your advertisement and concluded you had found funds elsewhere and decided you might not wish to sell your valuables after all and so I have brought them back to you.’ He reached in the pocket of his coat and drew out the velvet bag that contained them. ‘Of course, if you still wish—’
‘Oh, my lord!’ She took the bag he offered and tipped the contents into her palm, her eyes alight with joy. ‘Oh, I am so very glad you did not. Thank you. Thank you. I am sorry I ever doubted you.’
He sipped his tea and watched her lovingly fingering the jewellery, precious not in monetary terms, but because they reminded her of her husband whom she had loved. It gave him a stab of pain, not only because she was not yet ready to look favourably on him, but because he had not enjoyed a similar experience in his own marriage.
‘I collect you said your late husband had provided for you,’ he said, when she returned them to the bag. He must evince some curiosity or she might wonder why he had not asked. ‘How did that come about?’
‘Oh, it was Mr Hardacre who discovered it when he was going through Grenville’s papers. My husband made some investments just before he went to Spain, which were left to me. I cannot conceive how he overlooked them before, but it was fortuitous, for I could not have stayed another night at the Manor.’
‘Are those men still there?’
‘Cecil and Sir Roland and Mr Spike are and like to be for some time, I think. I heard them plotting more mischief.’
‘I’ve a mind to visit them.’
‘Why?’
‘I told you, unfinished business.’
‘Then I am very disappointed in you, my lord.’ She rang a little hand bell on the tea tray. ‘I would have thought you had learned your lesson.’
He burst into laughter. ‘Lesson number three. Do not gamble. But my dear Lady Hobart, surely it is permissible if one is winning.’
‘You cannot always be winning.’
‘No,’ he said suddenly serious. ‘One cannot always win, cannot always achieve one’s heart’s desire.’ He stopped speaking as Betsy came into the room in answer to the summons.
‘We have finished with the tea things,’ Charlotte told her and they silently watched as she gathered the cups and saucers and plates and piled them on the tray before carrying it from the room.
‘Will you take Julia, my lady?’ he asked after a long silence when they were both busy thinking about his last remark. He knew what he meant, but did she?
‘If she is willing.’
‘I am reluctant to leave her.’ He saw her little smile and laughed. ‘Oh, I know what you are thinking, that I had no compunction about leaving her before, but it is different now. In the last few weeks, while she has been so ill, I have come to understand her a little better.’
‘But there is still a long way to go.’
‘That is exactly what I was about to say. We are in accord, my lady.’ He smiled a little wryly.
‘But you cannot stay here with her, my lord. It would be most…’
‘Improper?’
She laughed. ‘Yes, it would raise a few eyebrows and I cannot afford that. I am already considered a little out of the ordinary and I must find fee-paying pupils; the funds I have must be husbanded carefully until I am making a profit. And if you were here, it would disrupt the whole routine of the school when it is important for everyone, Julia included, to be settled.’
‘I know that. It is why I said I would go to the Manor. If I am there, I will not be in your way and I can still see Julia occasionally.’
‘Oh, I see,’ she said, disappointed that he had not said he wanted to see her. Something had changed since he had left Easterley Manor and she supposed it was that he had decided his daughter was more important than making love to an eccentric schoolmistress. And he was right, wasn’t he? She endeavoured not to let her misery show. She stood up shakily. ‘I will go and find Julia.’
He rose too and stood by the hearth, his hand on the mantelshelf, wondering how they were to go on from there. Seeing her again had only confirmed his love for her, his need to have her in his life, but she had shut him out, talking about the school and Julia and her damned husband, almost as if she were trying to stop him saying what he wanted to say.
He went to the window and looked out towards the sea. It was very rough out there, the waves were crashing against the shore, he could hear them as they came on and drew back and came on again, a timeless rhythm. She was like that, he decided angrily, battering him, making him believe he might hope, then flinging him from her when his usefulness was done, when she had her jewels back in her possession and her school was up and running. What would she say if he told her that it was he and not Sir Grenville who had funded it? It might give him a certain satisfaction to see the shock on her face, but it would be the end of any hope of winning her.
He turned as the door opened and Charlotte and Julia came into the room. ‘Well?’ he said, addressing his daughter. ‘Will you stay?’
‘Do I have a choice?’
He heaved a sigh. ‘Yes, you have a choice.’
She laughed suddenly. ‘That is all I wanted to hear.’ Then, seeing the angry cloud gathering in his eyes, added, ‘Yes, I will stay. Lady Hobart has convinced me that she needs me and you know there is nothing like being needed.’
‘Lesson number four,’ he murmured, but no one heard him.
Leaving the carriage in the coach house at The Crow’s Nest and Jem racking up with Jenkins, he set off to walk to the Manor alone.
‘Well, well, if it isn’t Cousin Darton,’ Cecil said when Foster conducted Stacey to a back parlour, where the three men sat about a table. Curiously they were not playing cards, though there was a glass of cognac at each elbow. There were papers on the table that Sir Roland hastily swept to one side as he entered. ‘To what do we owe the honour of this visit?’
‘Unfinished business,’ Stacey replied. ‘I have a pile of vouchers—’
‘Too late.’ Augustus laughed. ‘There’s nothing left.’
‘You should not have continued to play, knowing the vouchers I hold have first claim.’ It was said quietly, but there was venom in his voice.
‘You left.’
‘I had other business to see to.’
‘Ah, yes, my lady’s jewels. I’ll wager they did not fetch as much as you thought they would and that’s why you are back. We had the last laugh, after all.’
Stacey pretended to smile in agreement. ‘But I still have some of Lord Hobart’s vouchers and I will be paid for those, one way or another.’ Before he left Charlotte, she had warned him about the smuggling. It was a worrying development, not only because he had brought Julia into the middle of it, but because Charlotte might be in danger from them. Gerard had warned him how vicious the so-called free-traders could be. He intended to find out what he could and then send for him. In the meantime, he would make Hobart squirm.
‘You can’t squeeze blood from a stone, Viscount,’ Sir Roland said. ‘Cecil has nothing.’
‘Oh, but I have,’ Cecil said, proving what they already knew—that for him gambling was a disease and he would never be cured of it. ‘I’ll play you for those vouchers. I win, you tear them up.’
‘And if I win?’
‘I’ll pay for the vouchers and half as much again.’
‘What are you proposing to use for a stake?’ Stacey asked. ‘The house?’
‘Don’t be a fool, Hobart,’ Spike broke in. ‘We need the house.’
‘Oh?’ Stacey queried, showing mild interest. ‘What is so special about it? It is old and draughty and miles from any society worthy of the name.’
Cecil suddenly laughed. ‘That is its chief attraction, Cousin.’
‘Shut up, Hobart!�
�� Augustus growled.
‘Well, my lord?’ Cecil addressed Stacey.
‘I will play, but only for cash, your blunt against the vouchers, at their face value, not the amount I paid for them.’ He was well aware as he spoke that it would double his losses if he lost, but it was a risk he was prepared to take. He wanted to see where and how the man would procure the money. ‘But tell me, if you are dished up, where are you going to find enough cash to cover the vouchers?’
‘I shall have it.’ Cecil tapped his nose in reply. ‘But it needs arranging. Shall we say three days from now? We will sit down to play after nuncheon on Sunday. Shall it be hazard or piquet?’
‘Piquet,’ Stacey said promptly. Hazard was a game of pure chance and he wanted the game to have an element of skill. ‘I assume I may reside here in the meantime?’
‘Yes, but my lady ain’t here to act the hostess, if you were thinking of continuing your dalliance with her.’
‘Pity,’ he said laconically. ‘Where did she go?’
‘Oh, not far,’ Cecil said. ‘Just to a house on the cliffs. Seems she prefers the company of children to grown men with more to offer. Will you call on her?’
‘I might,’ he said laconically. ‘I’ve nothing to do until we begin our game. That is, if you have no other entertainment planned.’
Cecil giggled and Augustus silenced him with a look. ‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘Go and visit the widow, keep her occupied.’
Mrs Evans arrived at that point to say dinner was ready and should she lay another cover for Lord Darton.
‘Yes,’ Cecil told her. ‘And have someone make up a bed for him too.’
The cook had too much pride in her skill to provide poor food for all she loathed her employer, and they dined well on roast beef followed by an almond tart. Afterwards they played whist for cob nuts from the dish on the side table. Stacey gave them the satisfaction of losing all his very quickly and then got up, yawned, and said he was tired after his journey and meant to retire.
