A Fair Pretender

by Janet Woods

  Oh yes, she knew all about her mother. Hadn’t the Abbess lectured her on the perils of giving into temptation before she’d left the orphanage?

  ‘My dear,’ Mother Beatrice had pontificated. ‘You’re unfortunate in having inherited bad blood from both your parents. Your father was dishonorable, your mother was a temptress who lured men from the path of righteousness. Such a pity you lack the disposition and fortitude for a life of prayer and self-sacrifice. We must be grateful that Miss Adams is in need of a companion. You must atone for your parents’ sins by working hard and casting out lustful thoughts. Keep yourself pure in body and soul and seek solace in prayer as you’ve been taught. Then you will come to no harm.’

  She’d not known who her parents were then, only of their sinful natures. The Mother Superior had taken it upon herself to inform her of her maternal side. Her mother’s family had owned one of the larger plantations. Once again, the mother superior impressed on her young mind the need to curb any sinful impulses inherited from her.

  ‘Blanche Seaton brought shame on her family and was cast out, disinherited and disowned. The Seaton family want nothing to do with you, the child planted by sin in her womb.’

  They’d given her a bundle of her mother’s possessions when she’d left. There was a gold brooch fashioned in the shape of a heart. Inside, it contained her mother’s initials, BS. There was also the word, love. Both were picked out in tiny rubies, and concealed inside the heart by a lid, which slid to one side. Inside an inscribed bible, the cover of which was decorated by an ivory cross, she’d found the letter from her mother to Seth Adams.

  The heavy burden of her sinful parentage had lightened as soon as she’d left the orphanage to be taken under Evelyn’s wing. Her sister, grateful for her company, and pleased she had someone to whom she could relate at a personal level, had been so kind and loving. They’d soon become firm friends.

  From Evelyn, Graine had learned how to behave in company, though it was hard to remain demure in the company of men whose thoughts were all too apparent in their manner towards her. It had seemed to her that Blanche Seaton’s daughter was fair game for adventurers. But Evelyn had guarded her well.

  The sinful thoughts which haunted Graine now were not as easily set aside. Saville Lamartine had come to represent, protection, love and fulfillment to her, which was something she’d had precious little of in her life.

  Her eyes glinted with tears as she turned and walked away from him. How unfortunate to fall in love with a man she could never wed. She could only hope that John Lamartine was similar in nature to his cousin. Perhaps then, she could fall in love with him as well.

  Outside the protection of Saville’s home, the air was colder than she imagined it could be. Heavy clouds had moved in from the sea. The ground underfoot crunched as her boots flattened the thick frost. Although her toes soon became numb, inside her muff, her hands were as cozy as a pair of rabbits in a burrow.

  Without thinking she followed after Rebel through the copse of trees and skirted the lake, now glassy with ice. Through a densely wooded copse and out the other side, she arrived at a walled-in orchard. There was no gate. Rebel disappeared through the gap and rushed across to the other side, where he pushed open the door to an outbuilding with his nose, and disappeared inside.

  Graine followed, inhaling the smell of apples appreciatively. She could hear Rebel whining and scrabbling at the floor. When she called him he took no notice. The inner room was full of drying herbs and cobwebs. Rebel was attempting to dig up the floor in a corner.

  Grabbing the dog by the collar she said sternly. ‘Behave yourself, there’s nothing in here but herbs and mice.’ She dragged the reluctant dog out through the building, closing the door firmly behind her.

  She’d taken only a few steps when she heard it open again. She turned to see Edmund Scanlon come out of the building and lock it carefully behind him. Appearing agitated, he jumped when he turned to find her there, saying sharply, ‘What are you doing here, Miss Adams?’

  ‘I’m out walking. Rebel went into the outbuilding. I didn’t see you in there when I went in to get him.’

  His eyes hooded over a little. ‘Aye, most likely I was behind one of the racks. I’ll escort you back to the house, Miss.’

  It wasn’t likely at all, but Graine didn’t bother to argue with him. It was entirely possible there was another room she’d missed, she thought, as she turned back towards the copse.

  She had a job to keep up with Edmund Scanlon on the way through the trees. ‘How deep is the lake,’ she said, almost out of breath.

  ‘The edges are shallow for several yards, then it shelves deeply and goes underground before being filtered into the sea. Trout and eels can be fished for, but if we get too many they’re netted and sent off to market.’ He threw her a warning glance. ‘Best not to swim in it.’

  She gave a breathless giggle. ‘I’m hardly likely to do that in this weather, Mr Scanlon. Besides, the earl said it’s not usual for ladies to swim in this country. I shall do as I please, of course.’

  He managed a distracted smile. ‘Until he decrees otherwise, though the earl is the first to set aside convention in the privacy of his own estate, when the occasion arises.’

  Her chest had begun to ache from constant inhalation of cold air, her side had cramped into a painful stitch. ‘I’m afraid I must slow down, Mr Scanlon. It’s obvious you have urgent business to attend to, so please go on ahead. I’ll be quite all right when I’ve rested.’

  Immediately, he halted. ‘Accept my apologies, Miss Adams. I’d overlooked the fact that you couldn’t match my stride. I must admit, I’m in rather a hurry.’

  ‘Then go. I have Rebel to escort me in.’ Indeed she had, for the hound had brought her a stick to throw. Seated directly in her path, his tail creating a storm of its own, the hound looked alert, expectant and extremely pleased with himself.

  She watched the steward lope off; covering the ground at twice the pace he’d been going before. Goodness, he was in a hurry. But not from something in the outbuilding; apples going moldy wouldn’t send him scurrying with such urgency. If she hadn’t been feeling the cold so keenly she would had gone back to investigate the outbuilding further. Some other time, perhaps.

  She picked up the stick and threw it, laughing when Rebel overshot it and did a clumsy summersault before coming back for it.

  Thus, they made their way back towards the house, dog and woman a companionable pair.

  * * * *

  Despite the seriousness of the situation, Saville couldn’t stop himself from smiling at the sight of them coming across the garden. ‘She saw us come back last night, Edmund. I don’t want her getting lost down there when she figures things out and her curiosity gets the better of her.’

  Edmund grinned to himself. ‘I like the girl. She’s got spirit.’

  Saville’s grin was wider, and smug with the comfort of his discovery as he thought, I love her. He looked at his companions to make sure he hadn’t said it out loud.

  Josiah gave a cackle of laughter. ‘She’s got a strong streak of her pa in her, that’s for sure. She’s a different girl altogether than the one I remember. The change has surprised me. Now, what are we going to do about the runaway slaves? They won’t get far in Nellie Jane.’

  Saville had turned away to watch Evelyn again. ‘There’s nothing we can do. Those slaves have headed straight into the snow clouds. They’ll lose all direction when it snows. If they don’t freeze to death or get caught first, the boat will probably sink under them and they’ll drown.’

  Josiah joined him at he window. ‘I’ll have to get back to Bristol overland. Can you lend me a horse?’

  ‘I’ll supply you with one if you like. He’ll be my retirement gift for you. He’s a little past his prime, but is sound of wind still, and sturdy enough to pull a cart if needed. I’ll provide you with papers to say you bought the beast, which will also give you an alibi if you need one. All I ask of you is that you treat him ki
ndly.’ He patted Josiah on the back. ‘Enjoy your retirement, Josiah. I hope we’ll meet again some day.’

  ‘What about the female slaves?’

  ‘At least the women had the sense to stay put. I’ll give it a day or two in case someone comes looking for them, then bring them up to the house. Room can be made in the servants’ quarters and they can learn domestic skills. It will help them find employment later on. I don’t know what we shall do with the infant when it comes, though.’

  Evelyn disappeared from his view. He heard her footsteps pitter-patter up the stairs and rang for a maid. ‘Take Miss Adams some hot chocolate to warm her, and ask her to join us in the drawing room. Tell her Captain Harrison is about to depart and he wishes to say good-bye to her. Also, tell cook to supply a flask of brandy and a food hamper for Captain Harrison’s journey, enough to fill his saddle bags.’

  Edmund headed for the door. ‘I’ll get the sale papers ready for Brutus and see that he’s saddled.’

  The departure was executed with a minimum of delay, for Josiah had a long journey before him with the weather closing in.

  As he turned on to the road, Josiah was pleased to have discovered that Evelyn Adams was looking so well. He’d always felt sorry for her, but now his mind had been put at rest.

  And it wasn’t until he was well into the journey that he found the purse of golden guineas amongst his belongings. There was a note from the earl. Many thanks, Josiah; this is compensation for the boat.’ Saville’s father would never have been so generous.

  He grinned to himself as his mind turned to Evelyn Adams. It was apparent that Saville was besotted with the girl. ‘Now there’s a situation,’ he said to his new acquisition. ‘Will the earl let her go to John Lamartine, or will he keep her for himself?’

  * * * *

  At that moment, Saville was on his knees in front of his guest.

  Blushing prettily, she was protesting, ‘You’re an earl, you cannot act as a foot warmer; it’s not dignified.’

  ‘Then I’ll be undignified.’ She had exquisitely shaped feet encased in pink, silk stockings. They fit snugly into his hands as he gently chafed them back to warmth.

  ‘If I’d known you were going to do this, I wouldn’t have mentioned that my feet were frozen,’ she said crossly.

  ‘Then your toes would have turned black and dropped off.’

  She shuddered, her eyes rounding at the thought. ‘Is that what happens?’

  ‘If they’re frozen long enough.’ He glanced up, caught her glance and grinned. ‘I will not allow it happen to you. Did you enjoy your walk?’

  ‘It was interesting. I ran into your steward.’

  Saville’s eyes sharpened, but he said nothing, just waited for her to continue.

  ‘He came from an outbuilding in the orchard. It was odd. I didn’t see him when I went in.’

  ‘I expect he was behind the apple racks.’

  ‘That’s what he said.’ Her eyes assumed a slightly wounded expression, as if she knew she was being lied to. ‘He’s a tall man. I would have seen him.’

  ‘Perhaps he was bending.’ He kissed her foot and placed it back into its slipper, hating lying to her. So he must tell her the truth, he could do no less. Ruefully, he smiled. ‘To be truthful, the building conceals a trapdoor which leads to a network of tunnels and caves. We have runaway slaves concealed in them.’

  Instantly, her eyes lightened with amusement and she began to laugh. ‘You must not expect me to believe a magistrate would indulge in such a practice.’

  He grinned, mostly because her laughter was infectious, but partly because he hadn’t been believed. ‘You have odd ideas. I’m a man first and a magistrate second. Sometimes, I’m a foot warmer.’ He kissed the toes of her second foot and put it away. ‘Is that better?’

  ‘They’re glowing.’

  ‘You are glowing; you warm my senses.’

  ‘And you’re too extravagant in your praise of me.’ Tears glistened in her eyes and she whispered. ‘I’m unused to the attention of men. I don’t know how to respond to it, or to you.’

  ‘Evelyn––’

  ‘No, let me finish please, Saville. Sometimes you draw me to you, then you push me away. I have … feelings. I beg you, please stop playing games with my heart, for I’m afraid I’m weak, and I might allow you to break it in two.’

  Face grave, he gazed into her eyes and murmured, ‘My dearest heart.’

  Though longing to declare his love for her, Saville knew he couldn’t, in all fairness, encourage such feelings in her until he received an answer to the missive he’d sent to John. She was too unworldly. A girl. Not the mature woman he’d been expecting.

  He stood, and drawing on his willpower, bowed almost formally and turned away from her. ‘It will be as you request, Miss Adams. I shall observe all propriety. You must excuse me now. I have to go through the accounts with my clerk.’

  Rebel stood, gazing from one to the other. When Saville moved towards the door he flopped back down before the comfort of the fire.

  After Saville had gone the drawing room seemed to assumed a chill. Yet the fire still burned brightly. For a long while Graine sat and stared into the flames, listening to the clock tick. She felt quite bereft, and totally alone.

  Ignoring the accounts, Saville fetched his warmest cloak and headed for the stables to saddle his gelding. The foal, Dancer, was nuzzling at her mother’s teat. The mare gazed at him through half-hooded and contented eyes.

  He stroked her soft muzzle, sighed, and whispered. ‘Life is complicated for us human beings. I would have Evelyn gazing at me with the same love and trust as I see in your eyes. I have a desire to see my infant sons and daughters nuzzling against her breast, and would guard and cherish them whilst my body drew breath.’

  Talking to a horse! Was he turning into the village idiot? He gazed around him, grinning to as he hoped his foolishness hadn’t been observed. The stable lad was at the far end of the stable, tugging at the girth on his saddle to tighten it.

  The air outside was bitter. Saville took the cliff path, cantering the animal at an easy pace. He was thinking of Evelyn Adams suckling his son. More pleasurable at this point was the means of getting that infant on her. She was at the peak of innocent desirability, with enough awareness to enjoy her conquering. Her mouth was a crushed peach for him to sip the juice from. Her thrusting little breasts would snuggle into his palms, the nubs tilted up towards his teasing tongue. When his body began to react to his thoughts, he sighed and deliberately directed his mind to something safer but less pleasurable.

  The dense cloudbank had moved closer. There was no sign of Josiah Harrison’s fishing boat. It was as if the sea had swallowed it up. He pitied the slaves who’d commandeered it. It was bad enough that they’d been torn from their families and homes, without perishing in such a manner. He’d compensated Josiah for its loss, for the man had been useful in his endeavors over several years and Saville had no intention of encouraging a fraudulent insurance claim.

  He reined his horse in on the top of a hill where he could look down over his estate. Over to his far left was the village of Rushford. It was well kept; each laborer’s cottage allocated a yard for chickens and a pig. Behind the village there was an acre of communal ground for growing seasonal vegetables.

  Every year, his laborers were given a pair of stout boots and two yards of drabbet cloth with which to make working smocks. A pound each of flour, barley and oats, and a sack of coal each week in the winter, supplemented their wages. He knew each villager by name and kept a jeroboam of spiced mead on tap at the local inn, so they could celebrate special occasions such as the birth of a new baby. The mead was a popular drink on such occasions.

  On the advice of the local doctor, he’d had the cesspits moved so they were away from the village and below the water well. Since then, the health of the villagers had improved.

  Saville treated his laborers well compared to other estates. As a result, they worked hard and caused no tr
ouble. He rewarded them with a feast in the grounds of Rushford House after the harvest was gathered.

  He grinned at a recollection of past disorderly gatherings. Men and women, both drank the local scrumpy cider and danced to a couple of fiddlers hired for the occasion until they could no longer stand. Usually, they slept where they fell and staggered home with sore heads the next morning. Invariably, come June, a fine crop of infants were birthed and put to the breast.

  He turned and headed back to the house, giving his mount its head. The horse was blowing hard when he reached the stable. Steam rose from its flanks. He called for the stable boy, who came running.

  ‘Mr Scanlon has been looking for you, Sir. He said to tell you he’ll be in his office.’

  ‘Thank you Rob. Make sure my horse is rubbed down well and cooled slowly.’

  Edmund looked relieved when he joined him in his office. ‘The slave girl is about to drop her brat. She’s scared stiff and needs help, the other one doesn’t know what to do.’

  ‘What about Jessie?’

  Edmund shook his head. ‘Says she knows nothing about birthing babies, and nothing would make her go down those tunnels, even if she did.’

  ‘Well, we can’t call in the new doctor, not until he’s settled in and I can sound him out. It will give the game away.’ Evelyn came into his mind. She’d tended his coach driver’s arm most competently, and had sewed up Clem’s leg without the flicker of an eyelid.’

  He found her in the library, her nose buried in a book of heraldry. She looked up, gave him a remote smile, and avoiding his eyes she returned to her reading. He’d hurt her feelings and, understandably, she was annoyed with him.

  He remembered Theodore Chambers listing one of her feminine attributes as a love of embroidery and tapestry. Not that the man’s judgment was faultless, he noticed. Still, he had the feeling there was a tapestry frame, some canvas and a box of silk thread stored away in a cupboard. He would ask Jessie to find them so Evelyn would have something to employ her fingers as well as her mind.