by Mira Stables
The only dissenting voice in this general chorus of approval – and it held its peace – was his lordship’s. None of them held Miss Ashley in higher esteem, but none of them was so much affected by her new and bewitching appearance. True, she still affected the sober style of dress that she considered appropriate to her position, though she had easily been persuaded to discard her caps, compromising by dressing her hair in the plainest possible style. But hair that curls naturally does not readily submit to such strict discipline, and the active life that Miss Ashley now led gave it every opportunity of escaping from the smooth bands into which she had pinned it. There were usually errant curls or tendrils of the silky dark stuff waving about temples and nape.
The most striking change, however, was in her complexion. Her skin had that delicate transparency so often characteristic of Irish beauties. One longed to touch it to see if it really had that rose-petal smoothness that it suggested. Allied to those eyes that his lordship had acknowledged to be magnificent even at their first meeting, eyes of a smokey blue-grey, fringed by long dark lashes, the effect was devastating. His lordship who had begun to like Miss Ashley quite well towards the end of what he now thought of as her ‘mouse masquerade’, found that his sensations were no longer those of mild liking. It was not only her physical appearance that had changed. Now that she allowed her personality free play she was a vital, alluring creature, generous and warm-hearted. Her wit was more than adequate to the task of holding her own in some lively exchanges with her charges, and she had a happy knack of bringing out the best in them. His lordship, finding himself thinking what a delightful mother she would make, decided that he was growing maudlin and made a determined attempt to turn his thoughts to other matters. A slight difficulty had arisen over the freehold of a farm that he planned to purchase. He would write to his attorney to make sure that the title was perfectly clear before completing the transaction. He pulled the standish towards him and picked up his pen. Five minutes later, the paper still virgin beneath his hand, he was gloomily wondering if a ten year difference in age was an insuperable bar to matrimony. Graine was twenty seven, he knew. She had made no secret of it when she and Bea had been discussing the vexed question of wearing a cap.
Worst of all, of course, was the fact that he could make no attempt to fix his interest with her. Having rashly pledged his word that she need not fear masculine importunities while she resided under his roof, his hands were tied. He comforted himself with the thought that friendship must form a sound basis for a more intimate association, kept a strict guard on face and voice, and surrounded Miss Ashley with an unobtrusive care for her comfort that did far more for his cause than flamboyant compliments. Graine was not a romantically minded eighteen year old to be impressed by outward trappings, but close association with his lordship could not fail to teach her his good qualities. She found him just and kindly to his dependents, generous and affectionate to his family and friends, while his easy-going elder brother attitude to Dominic earned her passionate gratitude. Yet he was not such a paragon of all the virtues as to become boring or to make one feel hopelessly inferior. He could show anger and intolerance when his notions of proper behaviour were offended, or he could keep his family in tucks of laughter by his description of some small event that had tickled his sense of humour, or by tales of various escapades of his own youth. He seemed to spend a good deal of time with the children. Graine, who was accustomed to households where the parents handed over the entire care of their offspring to nurses, governesses and tutors, and sometimes permitted several days to elapse without so much as setting eyes on them, found this admirable, never dreaming that for once she was crediting his lordship with a virtue which he did not possess. The gentleman himself wondered if ever before a man had embarked on his courtship under the surveillance of a brace of nieces and nephews and his quarry’s younger brother, but was far too wise to make any attempt to isolate Graine from her charges even when he might reasonably have done so. He did, however, spend a good deal of time in calculating how long it might be before his sister returned to England. There had been some mention of Christmas, and that was four months away. Once Dominic and Benedict went off to school it would be more difficult to find excuses for joining in the activities of the schoolroom party. Besides, he was growing impatient. He was fairly confident that he had won Graine’s liking. She treated him with frank confidence, turning to him in the most natural way for advice and support. But he wanted a good deal more than that, and not until she was established in his sister’s house would he be free to woo her openly.
It was therefore with an unusual degree of interest that he opened a letter from Lady Elizabeth which had been brought by special courier.
It contained disturbing news. Sir John had met with an accident. His wife did not say how – the letter was written in haste and was rather disjointed – but he had broken a leg and several ribs and was likely to be laid up for some time. As Ross would know, he was the worst of patients, refusing to follow the physician’s advice and determined on doing a number of imprudent things, one of which, since he declared he was, “Utterly useless in Copenhagen, laid by the heels as I am,” was to return to England. He was really in no case to travel, but his wife could neither convince him of the folly of such a proceeding nor feel herself capable of taking charge of such a difficult journey if she let him have his way. She had won a brief respite by telling him that she was writing to her brother with a plea for help. Would Ross come over to Copenhagen, either to support her persuasions or, if Sir John remained adamant, to organise the return to England.
Ross considered carefully. The courier was able to tell him that Sir John had received his injuries in a carriage accident, and that he was going along pretty fairly, all things considered, but that her ladyship was in a rare taking, since Sir John was vowing that he had no faith in what he described as “Foreign sawbones”, and meant to return to a country where such things were better managed.
Such a course seemed to Ross unwise to say the least of it. To be jolting broken bones over miles of inferior roads could do them no good at all. At the same time, he knew his brother-in-law – and that gentleman’s obstinacy. If he was set on returning home, return he would. It might be possible, reflected his lordship to bring him by sea to Harwich, if weather conditions were reasonable. That would reduce the road travel considerably, and if they had to wait about for favourable winds, so much the better. The thought of travelling overland from Copenhagen to Calais and then taking ship to Dover was really out of the question under the circumstances.
Yes. That was what he would arrange. It never occurred to him to deny Elizabeth’s appeal, not did it enter his head that her return to England would suit him very nicely. He was simply concerned with the best way of managing an awkward business.
He pulled the bell for Bosworth. “And not a word of your errand to anyone,” he warned the courier. “There’s no point in having the children on the fret for their father.” The young man, who was one of Sir John’s secretaries, nodded comprehension and went off with Bosworth to remove the dust of his journeying and partake of suitable refreshment, after which he rejoined his lordship in the library.
He found him just sealing a note which was addressed to Miss Ashley. It advised her briefly of his forthcoming absence and the reason for it, recommended her to keep the children in ignorance of their father’s mishap, though this decision he would leave with her, and begged her, as a personal favour, to undertake the conduct of the household during his absence.
“I have complete faith in your judgement,” he wrote. “I shall instruct Bosworth that they are all to take their orders from you. And you are the only person who knows where or why I am going. I would expect to be away for several weeks, since I cannot desert my sister until her affairs are running smoothly again. This means that you will have to see Benedict off to school. I am sorry for it, but Elizabeth’s needs come first. Bid Dominic farewell for me. I shall hope to see him on my return.”<
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He scrawled his initials at the end of this missive, sealed it, and turned to the waiting courier.
“Are you returning directly, or have you further business in this country?”
“Direct, milord. I thought to lie overnight in Town and then make for Dover. The overland route is likely to be quicker than the sea passage from Harwich, and her ladyship may have further need of my services.”
“I think you could serve her better by taking passage in my yacht to Copenhagen. True, Swallow is lying in Southampton and you might have a long beat up channel if the wind does not favour you, but I shall need her in Copenhagen in any case to ensure the greatest possible degree of comfort for Sir John if he cannot be persuaded to rest quietly until his bones are mended. And Swallow certainly has the heels of any cross-channel packet. What do you say? If you are agreeable I will write you a note for Captain Brenchley and he will give you passage to Copenhagen. I myself will travel by Dover and Calais, which, as you say, is like to be quicker, and will be with Lady Elizabeth before you, I trust. But you should not be too far behind me. If you explain to Captain Brenchley that your business is urgent, I do not think that you will find him loitering. He will make all speed that the wind permits. Are you a good sailor, Mr Hughes?”
Mr Hughes grinned disarmingly and said that he was at least an enthusiastic one. It was plain that the prospect of a comfortable, if protracted, voyage in his lordship’s luxuriously appointed yacht was very much to his taste, and since his conscience was appeased by the knowledge that Lord Valminster himself was hastening to his sister’s side, he was only too happy to fall in with the suggestion.
His lordship scrawled a few lines for Captain Brenchley and bade Mr Hughes farewell, thanking him for his services and adding that if at any future time he could be of assistance to him, he would be happy to oblige. A gratified young man set out on the road to Southampton, while his lordship directed his man to put up such gear as he would require for an absence of several weeks and summoned Bosworth once more.
“I have no time to tell you the whole. I have writ it all down in this note for Miss Ashley, and I have no doubt she will admit you to her confidence. I am leaving the household in her charge while I am away, and am confident that you will render her all the assistance within your power.”
He handed the note to Bosworth, who laid it solemnly on the low oak bench that stood in the hall. Miss Ashley could not miss seeing it there as soon as she and the children returned from the riding picnic that had marked the last day of the holidays.
Presently he saw master and man mount into the light travelling chaise. No further than London, he calculated thoughtfully, else it had been the coach, and a team rather than a pair. But where could the master be bound in such haste? For the first time since he had risen to his present eminence, Bosworth’s information was incomplete. And to be dependent on Miss Ashley for its completion! He liked Miss Ashley, but here were signs and portents that required much pondering. Could it be that, at long last, his lordship was thinking of marriage? Bosworth knew him well enough to be sure that he would not commit the care of his household to any one whom he did not hold in the highest esteem. In such a case it behoved even a butler to tread warily.
Unfortunately he was so preoccupied in mulling over this amazing possibility that he failed to close the door leading to the kitchen quarters. Dandy – the puppy selected by Adam and Bridget as their choice from the rather heterogeneous litter produced by a misalliance between the gardener’s spaniel and a neighbouring collie, was prompt to discover this omission and pushed the door further ajar with an inquisitive nose. Dandy was bored. His own especial humans had deserted him for the whole of the day, and no one else had time to play with him. He trotted out into the hall and looked about him hopefully for entertainment. The front door bell rang and he advanced importantly to answer it. Bosworth did not notice him. The vicar had called to see his lordship, hoping to enlist his interest in furthering the musical education of one of the choir boys who, apart from having an exceptional voice, also showed some talent for composition. But upon learning that his lordship was away from home he decided that the appeal would keep until his return and took his leave after one or two affable exchanges with Bosworth.
A playful little breeze blew through the open door, fluttering the missive that lay on the bench so that it set up a gentle pattering sound. To a puppy’s quick eyes and ears, here was invitation. Bosworth was scarcely back in his own sanctum before a moist black nose was investigating the possibilities of this strange leaf. It was larger and heavier than the leaves which fell from the trees. He was accustomed to playing endless chasing games with those. This smelled quite different, but it might have some entertainment to offer.
At first it was rather unsatisfactory. It did not float and whirl away as the garden leaves did – just flopped on the floor and lay still. Very dull. He growled at it, but it did not take up the challenge. He set one sturdy paw on it and tugged at a corner with sharp little teeth. It made a lovely noise as it tore, which encouraged him to repeat the assault until he had it in a wet mass of unrecognisable shreds. Then he decided that it tasted rather unpleasant after all and trotted off to seek new distractions. Henry, passing through the hall some ten minutes later, saw the mess, remarked dispassionately, “That dratted pup again,” and deposited the remains in the fire that burned winter and summer alike in the hall fireplace. He wondered vaguely what the pup had chewed up but did not think the incident worthy of mention to his superior.
Chapter Eight
The disappearance of the letter was discovered upon the return of the picnic party. Bosworth came forward in stately fashion to draw Miss Ashley’s attention to it, and stared in disbelief at the empty space where it should have been. Briefly he explained the circumstances to the lady in an under-voice, stressing the importance of the missive in view of his lordship’s hasty departure, and declaring that it must be found. When prolonged search failed to discover the important document, enquiries were instituted and Dandy’s activities were revealed. Henry was perfectly frank about his part in the affair, assuring his audience that, “No one wouldn’t never have known that it was a letter. Just a handful of soggy scraps with never a sign of writing on it.”
Bosworth, with every wish in the world to find a scapegoat for what he felt to be his own negligence, could not honestly blame the lad for his action, and it was certainly of no help to blame the marauding puppy. Miss Ashley very sensibly said that the letter was gone and there was small use in fretting over its disappearance. Could Bosworth make any suggestions as to his lordship’s possible destination or the duration of his absence from home? Unfortunately Bosworth was unacquainted with Mr Hughes who had not been very long in Sir John Browning’s service, so he was unable to venture any surmise. He could only say that a young gentleman had called to see his lordship, a Mr Hughes, driving in a hired chaise; and that his lordship, after conferring with the visitor, had made hurried preparations for his own departure. He was able to add that the hired chaise had then left for Southampton, since he had chanced to hear Mr Hughes giving directions to the postilion, but this piece of information did not seem to shed any light on his lordship’s movements. He repeated his lordship’s parting remarks with great solemnity, assuring Miss Ashley that he and Mrs Palmer would give loyal support to the authority vested in her during his lordship’s absence.
Miss Ashley, considerably startled by her sudden access of responsibility, said that she could only trust that that absence would be of very brief duration; that she would rely entirely upon the Earl’s trusted servants to keep her informed as to the customary practices of the household, of which she was lamentably ignorant and that she took it that his lordship’s delegation of authority referred rather to the management of his young relatives than to the conduct of domestic matters. Which showed, as Bosworth pointed out to Mrs Palmer, a very proper attitude, but was not what his lordship had said. Mrs Palmer nodded portentously. It was comforting to k
now that Miss Ashley put a proper value on their support, but she, for one, would be quite content to leave any awkward decisions to the young lady.
A week passed. Miss Ashley was not called upon to make any dramatic decisions. The great household continued to run on oiled wheels. Its new head disclaimed any desire to take over the planning of menus, assuring a very correct Mrs Palmer that she had only one complaint to make about the meals at Valminster, and adding, before the housekeeper could ruffle up, “They are too tempting by half. If I yielded to inclination I should grow as fat as poor Mrs Bennet.” Since Mrs Bennet, the lodge keeper’s wife, was of such massive proportions that she wheezed as she walked, only walked when it was essential, and needed – or so her husband declared – both leaves of the lodge gates opened before she could pass in or out, while Miss Ashley was slim as a willow, even a little too thin to suit fashionable demands, this was obviously complimentary. Mrs Palmer permitted herself a prim smile for the pleasantry and decided that there was no immediate threat to her customary sway.
