Rivals of Fortune / The Impetuous Heiress

by Jane Ashford

  “Ah yes, those mysterious charts. I had meant to ask you more about them. You were so clever in finding them. Have they been of help?”

  Joanna nodded. “Mr. Erland thinks one of them shows a secret chamber. His family were Jacobites.” Proud of her knowledge, Joanna sat up a little straighter. So he thought her clever?

  “Fascinating. And I daresay these, er, Jacobites hid their friends in the secret room?”

  Joanna nodded again, a little disappointed at his quickness. She had thought to make a real story of it.

  “You astonish me. And have you found this chamber?”

  “No, that is the vexing part. The chart is unclear about where it is. Mr. Erland showed us some marking on the side of the house near the ruins, but I could make nothing of them. No one could.”

  “A pity. Perhaps your father could be of help?”

  “He has looked at them already. I think he is more interested in the other chart, the one of the ruins themselves.”

  “Ah, to be sure. But Erland thinks that his uncle’s fortune is hidden in this secret room, I suppose?”

  His tone was so avid that Joanna raised her eyes to his.

  He smiled. “You must forgive me. Erland’s treasure hunt is providing almost the only excitement I have found in this neighborhood. Were it not for that, I should be unutterably bored.” He moved to lay his hand over hers on the sofa cushion. “That, and one other thing, of course.” His eyes held hers once again.

  Joanna flushed and looked down.

  “My greatest pleasure,” added the man, “has been to discuss this fascinating event with you. It is such a piquant combination—a treasure in a secret chamber and a ravishing fellow searcher.”

  “Th-thank you,” stammered Joanna.

  “And Erland does think the treasure is really there?”

  “In the secret room? Yes.”

  “Ah.” With this, Denby turned back to look about the room. Both the younger visitors were staring at the couple in the corner, and in a moment he had caught Constance’s eye. “Your friends seem a bit put out,” said Sir Rollin. “Perhaps, unfortunately, we should rejoin them.”

  “Oh,” replied Joanna, disappointed but a little guilty also, “oh, yes.”

  They rose and went back to the group before the fireplace. Selina was openly staring at them, her pale blue eyes wide. Constance had looked away, but her mouth was tight. Mrs. Rowntree, with better control, kept her expression bland.

  “Have you heard that Jack Townsend has caught a severe chill?” asked Constance determinedly when they sat down again. “He is really ill.”

  Pulled back to the present, Joanna was all sympathy. “Oh, yes. I am so sorry. I sent him a note, though I don’t suppose he cares for that. When one is feeling sick, the last thing one wants is to read.”

  “Poor Jack,” said Selina, in an effort to join in their conversation. But her remark served rather to end it, as there seemed nothing to do but nod agreement. A silence descended on the room.

  After a moment, Sir Rollin spoke again. “I have come for another purpose today as well. My sister is finally ready to stage her gala as the house is nearly finished. When she heard I meant to come here, she gave me this to deliver.” He handed an envelope to Mrs. Rowntree. “The invitation. And there is one for Mrs. Williston as well. Will she think me an oaf if I send it with you, Miss Williston?”

  “Not at all,” answered Constance colorlessly, holding out her hand for the missive. Her face and tone did not agree with her words.

  Sir Rollin merely smiled. “Make my apologies to her, please.” This done, he rose. “And now, I fear, I must take my leave. I have overstayed in any case, hoping to speak to you, Miss Joanna.”

  Joanna looked down, murmuring something inarticulate. Mrs. Rowntree rose and saw their guest out.

  When he was gone, she turned to the three girls. “Selina, Constance, you will excuse me, I know. I must speak to Cook, and I have delayed overlong already.” And she left the room also.

  Silence fell. For perhaps the first time in her life, Joanna wished fervently that her friends would leave her. She was still in a turmoil, even more after seeing Sir Rollin. But neither of the others showed any sign of going. Indeed, they eyed each other as if determined to stay. At last, Constance ventured, “You are completely recovered, Joanna?”

  “Oh, yes, I am perfectly fine. And your ankle?”

  “It is nearly healed, I always mend quickly.”

  “Joanna is very delicate,” put in Selina positively. Joanna stared at her. “But one can see, Miss Williston, that you have an extremely robust constitution. I daresay you were a great strapping baby, too.”

  Joanna’s eyes widened further. Constance’s lips jerked. “Actually, I was not,” she replied. “It is unaccountable.”

  “I myself am greatly subject to chills,” Selina continued. “I feel prodigiously for Jack. There is nothing more unpleasant than being ill in the summer. In the winter, one doesn’t care, of course; it is so dreary. But in the summer, one wants to be out.”

  “Very true,” murmured Constance.

  “So Mrs. Finley is to entertain at last,” blurted Joanna. “I must say I am curious to see the house.”

  This diversion was partly successful. Selina tittered, “Oh, yes. The housekeeper says she hardly knows the place, so much is changed. And not for the better.”

  “Mrs. Finley certainly has some peculiar ideas,” agreed Constance. “I wonder, did she find a hermit?”

  Joanna shrugged, but Selina was better informed. “She did. I don’t know who, but it is a man from the charity hospital in Oxford, they say. She had such trouble over the thing.” Selina giggled again. “They say old Mr. Powers had quite a bit to say when he was asked. He nearly threw them out of his cottage. How I wish I might have seen it!”

  Both the other girls smiled, and they all contemplated this picture in silence for a moment. Then Selina added, “The house is very fashionable now, though. There is a billiard room and a croquet lawn.”

  “Well, I prefer the old style,” said Constance.

  This judgment, though not directed at her, made Selina recall her earlier hostility. “Of course,” she said, “you are fond of all kinds of ancient things.” She turned to Joanna and asked with seeming innocence, “By the by, I have not seen Gerald this age, Joanna. When is he to visit?”

  Constance flushed and looked at the floor. Surprised at Selina’s unsuspected perspicacity, Joanna said, “Have you not? He was here only last week.” She rose before anyone could reply. “Heavens, it is almost tea time. I really must go upstairs and leave my bonnet.”

  Constance took her cue and rose also, shooting a grateful look in Joanna’s direction. Selina got up reluctantly. “Shall I see you tomorrow, Selina?” Joanna asked. She could tell the other girl was not going to leave without some definite engagement. “We might go walking.” She had not been out with Selina in days, and she felt guilty over this.

  Selina’s face cleared. “Oh, yes. Unless it rains. But I shall walk over in any case.” After this, she was quite ready to depart and quickly put on her bonnet and shawl.

  Constance squeezed Joanna’s hand as she took her leave, though they made no plans. And in a few moments, Joanna was alone. She gave a long sigh and started up the stairs. Finally, she could have some time to herself. In her room, she sank into the armchair by the window and stared out blankly. So many thoughts revolved in her mind at once that she hardly knew what she felt.

  For several days, Joanna felt disinclined to go out. She saw Selina for their walk and went to church on Sunday, but otherwise, she stayed home. So much had happened in the last few weeks, she felt she needed time to assimilate it all. She did not go to the Abbey with her father, even after they finally discovered the corner of the old church near the end of the week. She promised him that she would come to sketch it very soon,
but made no move to do so.

  She was a little surprised to see nothing of Sir Rollin Denby during these days. He had been so attentive at their last meeting that she had expected him to call again. But he did not. She had no word of him at all. After a time, she decided that he had been drafted to help with his sister’s coming entertainment, but she still wondered at his silence.

  Jonathan Erland was also absent. But his did not surprise Joanna in the least. She thought he had been as embarrassed as she at their last encounter. She did not know what she would say to him the next time they met, and was glad he did not visit them, even staying away from one of her father’s Thursday night gatherings. Frederick twice urged her to go with him to the Abbey. He and Erland were having a capital time, he said, searching for the secret room. But Joanna refused. She must first understand her feelings about this man very clearly.

  Joanna could not marry him, of course. He was not at all the sort of man she had always meant to marry—a man of fashion. But she found that for some reason she was reluctant to tell him this. It was wrong to allow him to hope, she realized, but every time she imagined telling him the truth, something inside her balked. Joanna told herself that she did not wish to hurt his feelings, but she was not completely satisfied with this explanation.

  Inevitably, Sir Rollin Denby entered these meditations also. What if it were he who had spoken of marriage, Joanna wondered more than once? What would her reaction have been then? The very questions made her shiver with excitement. To think of being married to Sir Rollin! His wife would surely be the very height of fashion, surrounded by a whirl of gaiety in London. Beside Sir Rollin, Jonathan Erland was clearly…but at this point, Joanna always stopped. Mr. Erland was clearly what? When she had first seen him and his countrified appearance, she had put him down as a bumpkin. But now, she no longer thought of him so. When she tried to judge the two men against one another, she found she could not. They seemed in such different categories.

  Joanna began to feel very young and inexperienced. She had hardly realized how complicated life could be when one was forced to make one’s own decisions. She could not run to her mother this time, as she had with so many other problems. Her mother would never understand. She would say that Jonathan Erland had been irresponsible, to have spoken so in his circumstances, and Joanna had the feeling that her mother disliked Sir Rollin enough to try to discourage her daughter’s growing interest in him. All was left to her, and Joanna felt increasingly burdened by the situation.

  It was for this reason that she stayed at home and kept to herself. Some decision seemed to be required of her. But as the days passed, none came.

  Sixteen

  The day of the Finleys’ gala arrived, before Joanna had satisfactorily resolved these problems. As she prepared for the event, she frowned, both Sir Rollin and Erland would of course be present. What would she say to Erland? And what would Denby say to her? It was both exciting and daunting to wonder such things.

  The party was set for eleven. They were fortunate in the weather: the clouds and rain of the last several days had departed, and the day was sunny but not too hot. When Joanna came down to the drawing room, looking brightly pretty in white muslin sprinkled with tiny yellow flowers and a straw hat, only her mother awaited her. Mrs. Rowntree smiled approvingly when she saw her daughter. “Your father has absolutely refused to attend the party, Joanna. I fear there have been too many invitations this summer. We shall have to go alone. You look lovely, dear.”

  “Should we stay home?” asked Joanna doubtfully. The idea was not entirely unpleasant. If she did not see the gentlemen, she would not have to worry about what to say to them.

  “Oh, no. It is a neighborhood party. And after all, there is no reason why we should not go out without your father. We shall do so continually in London next season. And Gerald is coming up from Oxford; we shall meet him there.”

  They said little in the carriage on the way. Joanna was deep in thought, and her mother appeared to be enjoying the scenery, though she looked sharply at her daughter more than once. The changes Adrienne had made in the Finley estate were apparent even before they reached the house. The avenue leading up to it, which had been lined with ancient oaks, was now completely bare. Though Joanna had more than once complained about these trees, saying that their overhanging branches made the lane gloomy and dark, she was horrified. The open vista up to the house looked appallingly bleak to her. And when they had pulled up before the door and been ushered in by a haughty London butler, her feelings were even more intense. The entrance hall had been freshly painted peach, and she recognized none of the furniture. The old front parlor was gone; walls had been removed to turn it into a billiard room, and the green table looked like an alien intruder. Even the library on the other side of the hall seemed different, though Joanna could not say just how.

  They were escorted through the house, and Adrienne greeted them effusively on the back terrace. Joanna let her mother answer for them both as she stared incredulously at the gardens. This formerly familiar place was utterly different now. She recognized nothing. The old arbor, so cool and secret in summer and full of hanging grapes later in the year, was gone, as were the homely beds of daisies and lavender. In their place was a rose garden, a wilderness, and near the back of the property, the famous grotto. It was all quite fashionable, but somehow Joanna could not like it.

  “You are admiring the gardens, I see,” cooed Adrienne. Peter had come up to greet them, and she took his arm possessively. “It was a great work, but I admit I am prodigiously pleased. Did you see the billiard room? We hope to try it today, though my brother has already christened it, so to speak.” She tittered.

  Mrs. Rowntree murmured something vaguely complimentary, and they moved off to allow another guest to be welcomed. Joanna stared about like a sleepwalker. “It certainly is changed,” said her mother. “The roses are lovely.” She sounded unconvinced.

  “Changed?” exclaimed Joanna. “I should say so. It is ruined.”

  “Quietly, my dear. It is natural that they should wish to refurbish the place, to make it their own.”

  “I suppose so. But I do not like it.”

  “Well,” responded Mrs. Rowntree good-naturedly, “I am not certain I do either, but it is hardly necessary that we do, is it? Ah, there are the Grants.”

  They walked across the lawn to where Mrs. Grant and Selina stood talking to some other neighbors. Selina immediately took Joanna’s arm and pulled her away. “Isn’t it hideous?” she whispered. “To think we played in this garden so often. And now I declare I do not know one corner of it. And the house! The new hangings in the drawing room are ugly, and I heard Mr. Townsend say that the billiard room is nothing but pretension.”

  This echoing of her own thoughts gave Joanna pause. Selina sounded very ill-natured. “I suppose they want their own things around them,” she replied.

  “I cannot imagine why,” tittered Selina. “Their own things seem to be quite horrid.”

  “Selina!”

  “It is the truth.”

  “People like different things,” offered Joanna. “Do you mean to say that you like this garden now?” Selina was outraged. “And the house?”

  “No,” replied Joanna slowly.

  “Well, there you are then.” Selina looked smugly pleased. She eyed the terrace and the crowd complacently. “Oh look, there is Jack Townsend. I am so glad to see him. They didn’t know whether he would come today; he must be better. Let us go and say hello.”

  They walked across to the group of young people around Jack and were soon immersed in the conversation. Adrienne had invited every family within ten miles, and they saw neighbors that they encountered only once or twice a year. A general effort to catch up on the news and become reacquainted occupied the group for some time.

  Because of it, Joanna did not even see Jonathan Erland arrive, and she hadn’t a moment to wonder where Sir
Rollin might be. It had seemed a little odd that he was not there to greet them along with his sister, but now this was forgotten in the general chatter.

  By noon, everyone had arrived, and soon after the hour, Adrienne stood up on the terrace and called out, “Everyone. Please listen, everyone!”

  It took a moment for her to get the crowd’s attention; they were enjoying their talk too much. But finally silence fell, and she spoke again.

  “I have a surprise. Everyone please follow Peter and me, and you shall see it.” Adrienne took Peter’s arm and walked down the terrace steps onto the lawn. The two of them started out across the grass toward the wilderness at the back of the garden.

  “What can it be?” wondered Selina as the rest of them followed. But no one answered her.

  The whole crowd strolled down to the copse, finding a path there which wound through it. Adrienne and Peter stayed a little ahead. “Isn’t it amazing,” said Constance Williston, who had joined Joanna and Selina a moment before, “that they could make all this in so short a time? Where can they have found these trees?”

  Joanna opened her mouth to agree, but at that moment they emerged from the thick growth, and instead of speaking, she merely gaped. The center of the wilderness was a clearing, planted with the smoothest grass. And in the middle stood a tiny greek temple, complete with dome and pillars, and as fresh and new as could be. Tables had been set out around it. Clearly, lunch was to be served out here. And Sir Rollin Denby stood on one of its steps, smiling sardonically at the party and looking darkly handsome.

  “Oh my!” said Constance.

  There were murmurs of astonishment all around. Some of the guests were surprised and impressed, and others appeared to be amused. Glimpsing her brother’s face, Joanna knew that at least one was outraged.

  “Here is our surprise,” called Adrienne gaily. “And now Mr. Erland must admit that even though he got in before me with his picnic, I have triumphed.”

  From the other side of the group, Erland replied, “I admit myself utterly outdone.” Craning her neck a little, Joanna saw him. He was smiling good-naturedly and looked immensely amused.