A Wealthy Widow

by Anne Herries

  ‘She does not want to be a nuisance to you, Belle.’

  ‘She could never be that, for I love her.’

  ‘She has her pride,’ May said and looked sad. ‘And I owe my life to her—I was starving when she took me in, and ill of a fever. I am happy to stay here and care for her. Besides, it may be best if you do not acknowledge me to your friends, Belle.’

  ‘Do not dare to say that to me,’ Arabella said, her eyes flashing with anger. ‘I am not ashamed of you, dearest May—and I shall never be, no matter what happens.’

  ‘You and Nana have cared for me and loved me,’ May replied, but her eyes held a secret sorrow. ‘But how do I know whether or not I deserve your kindness? What kind of a person wanders into someone’s house at night wearing only a silken shift? I can never be sure that I am not wicked, Belle, for I may have come from a whorehouse.’

  ‘That is foolish talk,’ Belle replied, refusing to listen. ‘You are not wicked, May. I know that from my heart, from the way that you have taken on the care of Nana—and whatever you may have been forced to do in the past does not matter to me. I shall still love you, even if you were forced to be the slave of evil men.’

  ‘Oh, Belle,’ May replied, tears in her eyes. ‘If you and Nana had not cared for me, I might have been forced to become one of those unfortunate women.’

  ‘Well, you were not,’ Arabella said. ‘And one day we shall discover the truth. We shall discover if you have a family, and who they are.’

  ‘I am not sure that I wish to remember,’ May told her and looked pensive. ‘Sometimes I seem to recall a house and gardens—a place where I was happy—but it only makes me sad because I can never go back there.’

  ‘If you have a loving family, they will want you back,’ Arabella had told her, but May only shook her head. It was perhaps because of her friend’s fears that Arabella had waited so long to try to discover the truth. She had intended to ask an agent to start the search for May’s past while she was in town, but events had overtaken her. However, she had the card that Charles Hunter had given her and she would write to the agent he had recommended as soon as she had time.

  When the carriage at last pulled to a halt, Arabella was feeling very tired. She had slept for a few minutes now and then during the long journey, but her eyes felt gritty and hot as she got down.

  ‘Please go up to the house,’ she instructed her servants. ‘I shall stay here for a while. You may send someone to me, to await further instructions. In the morning I shall want a hamper of food brought here—and perhaps a change of clothing.’

  The cottage door opened as she approached, and May stood in the doorway, looking anxious. ‘Thank goodness you came,’ she said, and there were tears on her cheeks. ‘I do not think she will survive another day. She has been wandering in her mind, Belle—and she asked for you so many times. I hope I was right to send for you?’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ Arabella said. ‘Darling Nana. I must go to her first, and then we shall talk, May. For I believe something else is bothering you?’

  ‘Yes, that is so,’ May said and looked distressed. ‘But go to Nana first. She has been waiting for you.’

  ‘Yes, I shall go up to her at once.’

  There was a candle burning in the small bedchamber, which enabled Arabella to see the old lady lying back against a pile of pillows with her eyes closed. In the yellow light, she looked waxen pale and very fragile, which made Arabella’s heart catch with fright. However, as she approached, Nana opened her eyes and smiled at her.

  ‘My Belle,’ Nana said and moved her hand on the covers. Arabella took it, feeling its fragility, hurting because of it as she sat on the edge of the bed to look down at her lovingly. Nana’s smile was tender and full of understanding. ‘I knew that you would come, my love.’

  ‘Of course I came, dearest,’ Arabella said; her throat was tight with emotion and she had to fight her tears. ‘You know that I love you, Nana. You cared for me when there was no one else to love me.’

  ‘Your papa loved you, he just wasn’t good at showing it after your dear mama died,’ Nana said. ‘He never married again—she was the only woman for him. And when he died he was glad to join her in Heaven. But I was not alone in caring for you. You are beloved, Belle.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Arabella said and blinked hard. ‘Yes, I know that I am fortunate in my friends and those who serve me.’

  ‘One day you will find love again,’ Nana said. ‘I wanted to tell you not to waste your life, Belle. You were meant to have a husband and children. Ben would not want you to remain his widow for the rest of your life. He was too unselfish and too loving for that—and you owe it to him to be happy.’

  ‘Yes, I know,’ Arabella said. She could no longer hold back the tears that trickled down her cheek, but she let them flow unheeded. ‘Dearest Nana. You always worry for me. You should be resting. We want you to get better.’

  ‘My time has come,’ Nana told her and there was gentle acceptance in the words. ‘Do not weep for me, Belle. I am ready to meet my Maker. I want you to promise that you will take May home with you. Look after her, Belle. She has been badly hurt, though she cannot recall what happened to her—but sometimes she weeps and I think she feels so lonely. Take care of her, because she needs you.’

  ‘Yes, I know. It has always been my intention to care for May,’ Arabella said. ‘I shall try to find her family for her, but if they do not want her—or if she does not want to return to them—she will always have a home with me. I already love her as if she were my own sister.’

  ‘Good. You are a good girl…my little Belle,’ Nana said and closed her eyes. ‘Always such a good little thing…’

  At first Arabella thought that she was sleeping, but then she heard a sigh issue from Nana’s lips and the last vestige of colour left her lips so that they were as white as her cheeks.

  ‘Nana…’ Arabella gave a little choking cry and bent to kiss her lips. ‘Nana, do not leave me….’

  ‘She waited only to see you again,’ May said from the doorway. ‘She was such a dear woman, Belle. It breaks my heart to lose her and yet I know that she was ready to go. She has been telling me stories of when she was a young girl—and of her sweetheart who went off to be a sailor and drowned at sea.’

  Arabella straightened and looked at her. ‘She never told me of her sweetheart. Poor Nana…to spend her life in service to others when she might have had a husband and children of her own.’

  ‘I think that is why she was so concerned for you, Belle,’ May said. She walked up to the bed, bending down to kiss Nana’s forehead. ‘She spoke of you so often. I do not think that you need to pity her, for you were her child. She loved you as well as any mother could.’

  ‘Yes, she did,’ Arabella said. ‘But she loved you too, May. She thought of you at the last. She wanted me to take you back home with me—and that is what I want, too. Please say that you will come and live with me, at least until we find your family.’

  ‘We may never find them. Perhaps I do not have a family—for why would I run away from them if they loved me?’

  ‘Come, let us go downstairs and talk,’ Arabella said. ‘I shall send to the village so that things can be done for Nana, as they should be. And then we shall talk of the future—of our future, for whatever happens you are my sister, May. We shall never be parted unless you wish it…’

  ‘I have something disturbing to tell you,’ May said. ‘There is a stranger staying at the inn and I have seen him outside the cottage.’

  ‘Has he spoken to you? Done anything that frightens you?’

  ‘He asked me for directions once, but he has not harmed me. It is just him—the way he watches me, as if he is weighing me up. Do you think he knows who I am?’

  ‘Perhaps,’ Arabella said. ‘Or perhaps he is just trying to discover if you are someone he is searching for. You must be careful, dearest. It is just as well that you are coming to stay with me. I should not feel comfortable about you staying here alone now.�
�� She frowned, wishing that she had done something about an agent when she was in town as she had intended. Perhaps he could have discovered who the stranger was. She would certainly write to the address Charles Hunter had given her as soon as she had time, but for the moment there were other more important things that must be taken care of. May would be safe enough living at the manor with her.

  Charles finished reading the letter Arabella had sent him. He was relieved to know that nothing untoward had happened to Lady Tate, though obviously the elderly nurse who was dying was very dear to Arabella’s heart. She would not otherwise have gone rushing down to the country to see her.

  He frowned as he realised that he had been looking forward to seeing her later that week, for he had been invited to accompany his mother to Lady Tate’s dinner. In that moment it came to him that his feelings for Arabella were more than the friendship he had claimed. He had tried to deny them as it was an impossible dream, but now that he faced the possibility of never seeing her again, he understood that it would bring him more grief than he had thought possible.

  Charles had never taken love seriously. Before Sarah’s abduction he had been known in polite circles as a wicked flirt, given to paying extravagant compliments that meant little. He had enjoyed the company of pretty women, and had kept his share of mistresses, though not for many months now. The anxiety over his sister had put all thought of physical gratification from his mind; he had lived only to find his sister, and perhaps now, at last, there might be a chance.

  John Elworthy had gone up to Yorkshire—to the hamlet of Stapleford Bridge, which was some fifty-odd miles from the city of York. Charles had at first taken little interest in the exact location for he had expected it to be another wild goose chase, but looking at the directions John had written out for him had caused him to start thinking. If he was not much mistaken, the village could not be that far from what had been Ben Marshall’s home…Arabella’s home now, for it had come to her through her husband.

  If John should send for him, it would be easy enough to make a detour to call on her. She had said that her aunt would be joining her soon. He might even offer to escort her there…

  Charles gave an impatient shake of his head. Was he such a fool as to think that she might accept him as he was—a man who must devote his life to searching for his sister? No, she deserved much more of life. It was wrong and stupid even to contemplate such an idea. He must put all thought of her from his mind. John would very likely find that the rumour was a false trail and it would be much better that Charles should stay away from the woman he had fallen in love with against his better judgement.

  Arabella glanced through the letters that had been brought to her that morning. There was one from her aunt to say that she would be joining her in five days, and a few invitations from neighbours asking her to dine with them.

  Having read her aunt’s letter, she put the others aside for the moment. They were to attend a church service that morning, for it was the day that Nana would be laid to rest. Arabella’s first grief had abated a little. Nana had been old and ready to leave this earth, and Arabella had had her blessing. A kind of peace had settled over her after Nana’s death, and she knew that May felt much the same. They had both been fortunate to be loved by such a woman and would carry their memories with them for ever.

  Dressed in black, Arabella went downstairs. Nana’s coffin had been brought to the house the previous night and would be carried by the men of the household, many of whom had known and loved her. The rest of the servants would follow behind May and Arabella as they walked to the church in the village, save a few who had chosen to stay behind and prepare the food that was to be offered to any who came to mourn after the funeral.

  May was wearing a black gown that Arabella had given her, which she had altered to fit, being as she was a head shorter than her benefactress. They joined hands as they walked, needing the comfort of physical contact.

  It was a pleasant autumnal day. The sun was warm and there was no breeze, which meant that it was not cold in the church for the chief mourners or for the people who stood outside in respectful silence. Arabella was surprised that the whole village had turned out, though perhaps she should not have been—Nana had been kind to everyone she met.

  After the service, Arabella and May stood together on the steps outside the church, speaking to friends and neighbours. The sun was even warmer now, as if it smiled on them, and, after a few minutes, the two girls walked towards the carriage, which would take them back to the house.

  ‘Look,’ May said suddenly, grabbing Arabella’s arm. ‘Do you see that man, Belle? The one with the shabby black coat and hat? He is watching us again. What can he want of me?’

  Arabella followed the direction of May’s gaze and frowned. ‘Is he the one you told me of—the one you think has been hanging around the cottage?’

  May had said very little in actual fact for they had both been grieving, but Arabella had sensed her fear when she spoke of the man hanging about the cottage.

  ‘Yes, I think so,’ May said, her eyes wide and scared. ‘He frightens me, Belle. What do you think he wants? He asked me the way to Long Meadows once, but I am sure he did not want to go there. And he asked me my name, but I shook my head and ran away. He did not follow, but he has been watching me, I am sure of it.’

  ‘Well, you are safe enough now that you are living with me,’ Arabella said. ‘But I shall ask Mr Grant to see what he wants.’ Thomas Grant was her bailiff and she relied on him for all kinds of things concerning the estate. She beckoned to him as he stood talking to the Vicar and some of the villagers and he made his excuses, coming to her at once.

  ‘Yes, my lady? How may I help you?’

  ‘That man over there—do you know him?’

  Thomas Grant looked at the man standing at the edge of the crowd and then shook his head. ‘No, my lady. He is not one of us. A traveller passing through, I dare say.’

  ‘He has been hanging around Nana’s cottage and watching May,’ Arabella said. ‘Please discover what you can of him—and why he has been spying.’

  ‘Yes, my lady. Shall I warn him off for you?’

  ‘If he will give you a reason for his actions, I shall speak to him. Otherwise, please warn him of the consequences if he comes near her again. And tell everyone to be watchful. If he comes on to the estate without an invitation, he is to be asked to leave.’

  ‘Yes, my lady. You leave the rogue to me!’

  ‘Thank you.’ Arabella turned to her companion. ‘Come along, May. Let us go back to the house. We must entertain our neighbours and those who care to come from the village. The food is to be set out on tables in the garden, and we must try to speak to everyone.’

  They climbed into the carriage together. Arabella glanced out as they passed Thomas Grant, who was now speaking to the stranger in an earnest manner. She wondered who the newcomer could be. Was he simply a traveller passing through—or was there a more sinister reason for his being here?

  She had little time to ponder the matter that afternoon, for she and May were kept busy talking to their neighbours and the villagers who had come to pay their respects to Nana. As the day wore on great mountains of food and a considerable amount of cider, ale and wine was consumed, and by evening the rather sombre air that had hung over the company had become much lighter. Some of the villagers began to sing old country songs, and a few were a little worse the wear by the time they began to wend their way home again.

  ‘They mean no disrespect,’ Arabella told May as they retired to the parlour to drink tea and talk before retiring. ‘I shall think of today as a celebration of Nana’s life—and I am sure that is what she would have wanted.’

  ‘Yes, I am certain you are right,’ May said and smiled. ‘I feel much better, Belle. Nana would have enjoyed today, I know she would.’

  Arabella looked up as one of the maids entered the room. ‘Yes, Maisie—what is it?’

  ‘Mr Grant asks if he may speak to you, ma
’am?’

  ‘Yes, of course. Please ask him to come in.’ Arabella looked at May as she made to rise. ‘No, do not go. I think this must concern you. Stay and hear what Mr Grant has discovered about the stranger.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Arabella nodded and May sat down again, her fingers working nervously at the folds of her silken gown.

  ‘Well, Mr Grant, what have you to tell us?’ Arabella said as the bailiff entered the room.

  ‘His name is Brownlow,’ Grant said and frowned. ‘He apologised if he had distressed the young lady—but he is searching for a girl as went missing about sixteen months ago. A girl of good family she was, ma’am, and the description he gave is very much like yours, miss.’ He looked at May thoughtfully. ‘I’m not a man to poke my nose in, miss—but you came here at about that time, did you not?’

  ‘Yes…’ May’s voice was little more than a whisper and her eyes were open wide. She looked frightened, touching a tiny scar at her left temple with her forefinger. Arabella sensed that she was very nervous. ‘But I don’t know…’ She faltered uncertainly, for she had no idea who she was or where she had come from.

  ‘Did he tell you the name of the girl he was looking for, Mr Grant?’ Arabella asked. ‘Or give you any indication of her family?’

  ‘He said as her name was Sarah, ma’am. More than that he wouldn’t tell me—he said his employer wished him to be discreet.’

  ‘Yes, I see,’ Arabella said. ‘Do you think he would tell me more if I spoke to him?’

  ‘I don’t rightly know, ma’am. Bit of a secretive cove—but then that’s the nature of his business. As I understand it, he used to be a Bow Street runner until he retired.’

  ‘Well, I would like to speak to him alone,’ Arabella said. ‘Please ask him to call on me, if you will.’

  ‘He said as he was off this afternoon, ma’am. Seems he’s done his business here and is going to report to his paymaster.’