by Anne Herries
‘Why have you given me this?’ she asked on a sobbing breath. ‘I do not deserve it. I have been spiteful to Sarah, and—’ She shook her head, suddenly turning and running from the room.
Arabella frowned as she stared after her. It would have been easy to send Tilda away, for now that she had independent means she could quite well live alone. She had not had the heart to do it, and only hoped that Tilda would feel easier in her mind for this little talk.
Hearing voices in the hall, she went out to discover that her aunt and Sarah had met there and were discussing whether or not it was warm enough to walk in the gardens.
‘I think I should prefer to sit in the parlour by the fire,’ Lady Tate said, smiling at them. ‘Arabella will walk with you, Sarah. I shall rest until it is time for nuncheon. I have a few letters to write and I need some ink. Unaccountably, I have none in my rooms, Arabella, though I thought I had brought my own from London. May I borrow yours, my love?’
‘Yes, of course, Aunt,’ Arabella said. ‘Please use my desk. I shall find a shawl and walk with Sarah in the garden, for it is quite pleasant out and we do not know how long the fine weather will last.’
She collected a wrap from the hall cabinet where several bonnets, shawls and walking sticks were kept, sometimes used by her, but not exclusively. It was so easy to take a shawl from the shelves of the cabinet, rather than running upstairs to fetch one, that they had made it a habit to leave one or two there. Arabella wrapped a plaid shawl about her shoulders, and Sarah took a plain red silk one.
They set out to walk through the gardens at the front of the house, venturing as far as the park, which stretched for some distance to the main highway. It was after they had been walking for some twenty minutes that they saw the carriage bowling through the park towards them. Sarah caught Arabella’s arm, looking apprehensive.
‘Do you think that is Mama?’
‘Yes, I think it very probably is,’ Arabella said smiling at her as it went straight past them. ‘Do not be frightened, my love. Mrs Hunter will be so pleased to see you.’
‘Supposing she is angry with me for causing her such distress?’
‘Why should she be angry with you? It was not your fault that you were abducted—how could it be?’
‘Perhaps I did something to make those men choose me,’ Sarah said, her eyes dark with anxiety. ‘Do you think I said or did something wrong?’
‘Whatever makes you ask that? I am sure that you did not, Sarah.’
‘Then why did they take me? Why me and not some other girl? I have been wondering about it, Belle. Am I wicked? Is there something about me that made men like that want me?’
‘You could never be wicked,’ Arabella assured her, squeezing her arm. ‘I think it may have been because you were so pretty, dearest.’
‘There are lots of pretty girls,’ Sarah said. ‘I cannot think why it should have been me—unless I did something wrong.’
‘You are not to blame yourself,’ Arabella said with a frown. ‘Put all such thoughts from your head, Sarah. And now we must go back to the house. Your mama will be waiting.’
‘Yes, of course.’ Sarah clung to her friend’s arm. She was very nervous about the coming meeting, though she also longed for it. She had not known her brother—but surely she must know her mother when she saw her? ‘We must not keep her waiting long.’
‘We shall be there by the time my housekeeper has taken her pelisse and bonnet from her,’ Arabella said. ‘And I know that she will be so happy to see you. Come, let us walk a little faster, for she will be wondering where you are.’
The carriage had gone round to the back of the house to unload Mrs Hunter’s baggage by the time they arrived at the front door, which stood open, but she herself was still lingering in the hallway, being greeted by the housekeeper and Lady Tate. The two ladies were embracing each other and exchanging greetings. As the girls walked in through the open door, they were in time to hear Mrs Hunter’s question.
‘Where is she, Hester? Is she all right? Has she changed terribly? Oh, my darling little girl…’ Something made her turn at that moment and she gave a little shriek as she saw Sarah, rushing towards her to gather her into a tight embrace and sobbing audibly. ‘My poor, sweet Sarah. What has happened to you, my love? Oh, it does not matter. I am here now. I shall never let you out of my sight again…’
‘Mama?’ Sarah gently eased herself from Mrs Hunter’s embrace. ‘I am sorry…’ Her eyes filled with tears of disappointment. ‘I do not know you…’
‘You do not know me?’ Mrs Hunter was thunderstruck. ‘I know Mr Elworthy said something of the sort, but you must remember me? I am your mama.’ She looked at Lady Tate in bewildered appeal as Sarah shook her head. ‘But she must know who I am…’
‘Please come into the sitting room and sit down,’ Arabella said. ‘We are serving a cold luncheon today, for we were not sure when you would arrive—but that may wait. I suggest that we sit down and talk for a while.’ She glanced at her housekeeper. ‘I think we need some tea, Mrs Bristol—and perhaps a cordial or a little brandy.’
Arabella led the way into the sitting room, smiling at Mrs Hunter as she sat down uncertainly. ‘Mr Elworthy told you that you are to be my guest until Sarah comes to know you better?’
‘Yes, but I did not realise that she would not know who I was.’
‘It was a shock for Charles too,’ Arabella said. ‘I believe he will be calling later today. You will see him then and perhaps it is best if he explains everything, Mrs Hunter. I can tell you that Sarah was ill when she came to us. My nurse looked after her and she lived with her until a couple of weeks ago when Nana died. Sarah came to me then and she is welcome to make her home here if she chooses.’
‘Her home is with me. I am her mother.’
‘Yes, of course—but Sarah must make up her own mind,’ Arabella said. She looked up with relief as the housekeeper brought in a large butler’s tray, which she set down on a stand next to Arabella’s chair. ‘Thank you, Mrs Bristol. Yes, I shall pour myself. You may go.’
‘Sarah…’ Mrs Hunter looked at her daughter who had chosen a chair opposite her mother. ‘Surely you wish to be with your family?’
‘Arabella has been kind to me,’ Sarah told her. ‘I should like to come home one day, but I am not ready yet…Mama. I must feel comfortable with you and my brother.’
‘Feel comfortable…Yes, milk and one sugar, please,” she said in answer to Arabella’s question. Mrs Hunter looked bewildered as she was handed a delicate porcelain cup filled with tea. ‘I do not understand any of this. Hester, pray tell me—what has been going on here? Did you know that Sarah was staying here with Lady Arabella?’
‘No, Selina. We none of us knew. Arabella had mentioned something about a young girl living with Nana, but she did not go into details—and in any case I had no idea that Sarah was missing. I thought she was staying with friends in Scotland.’
‘That was what we told people,’ Mrs Hunter said with a little frown. ‘We did not wish it known that Sarah had disappeared.’
Sarah blushed and looked down at her hands. ‘I have caused so much trouble for you—all of you. I have brought shame on your name. You must be angry with me.’
‘Indeed we are not…’ Her mother looked flustered. Clearly she did not know how to handle this girl who was her daughter and yet not the Sarah she knew. Fortunately, there was an interruption at that moment as the door opened and Charles walked in. Mrs Hunter was on her feet at once. ‘Charles! Thank goodness you are come. Tell Sarah that I am her mama. She does not know me.’
‘She does not know me either, Mama,’ Charles said and walked to his mother, stooping to kiss her cheek as she sat down again. His eyes met Arabella’s across the room apologetically. ‘Forgive me. I assume you are about to have nuncheon. John came to see me in the village. He escorted Mama that far and then decided to find me. We have been talking and the time went on. I do not wish to impose on you, but I wished to see how Mama was doing
…’
‘You are very welcome to stay. A cold collation has been laid in the dining room because we did not know when Mrs Hunter would arrive,’ Arabella said. ‘I suggest that you take Mrs Hunter upstairs, Aunt Hester. She will want some time to herself before we eat. Sarah, perhaps you would like to walk in the garden for a moment with Charles? I shall speak to Cook and tell her that we shall be two extra for dinner this evening—if you would care to stay, Mr Hunter?’
‘Yes, thank you,’ he said. ‘Could I impose on you to make it three? I believe John might wish to dine with us this evening. He said that he might call later and he has been of great help to me in this affair.’
‘Yes, certainly,’ Arabella agreed. ‘It will be pleasant to have guests in the house. I have not given a dinner party for some time and I must do so while you are here, Mrs Hunter.’ She stood up, leaving to make the arrangements with her staff. It was several minutes before she returned.
Arabella was grateful to her aunt for whatever had been said while they were upstairs together. Mrs Hunter seemed to be much calmer when she came down. Although she could not take her eyes off Sarah, she did not complain of the situation. Indeed, she spoke little until after they had eaten.
‘I have several gifts for you in my trunks, Sarah,’ she said, smiling at her tenderly. ‘They were purchased for last Christmas and for your birthday. You were eighteen last month, my love.’
‘Eighteen? I had thought I must be older.’ Sarah touched the little wing of white hair at her right temple. ‘I believe my hair was much longer before I was ill? Nana cut it because the doctor said it was taking my strength. Was it very long?’
‘Yes, it was, Sarah. It reached to the small of your back. You used to say it was too long when I brushed it, for it often tangled, but I begged you not to have it cut.’ Mrs Hunter blinked hard to keep away the foolish tears. She must not distress Sarah, for it was clear that she was already nervous. ‘I think it suits you very well as it is, my love. You are even lovelier than before.’
‘Sarah is beautiful,’ Arabella said as she led the way into the larger sitting room at the front of the house. ‘She deserves a lot of pretty new clothes. We are thinking of going into York in a few days. Shall you come with us, Mrs Hunter? Or would you prefer to keep my aunt company here until we return? We shall not stay more than two days at most, for my local seamstress may come to us to finish the gowns.’
‘I am not a good traveller,’ Mrs Hunter said. ‘Perhaps I shall stay here with Hester—but Charles must go with you as your escort for protection.’ She looked so anxious that her son hurried to reassure her.
‘I shall be happy to do so, Mama,’ he said. ‘I have already told Sarah that I am at her service whenever she wishes.’
‘Oh, you must not,’ Sarah protested, looking uncomfortable. ‘I do not wish to give anyone any trouble. I have caused enough grief already.’
‘Do not be foolish, my love,’ Mrs Hunter said, clearly upset. ‘You were not to blame for any of this unfortunate business—was she, Charles?’
‘No, Mama, certainly not.’ He turned his intent gaze on his sister. ‘No blame attaches to you, Sarah. It is my fault. I should have protected you better.’
‘What could you have done? If I was taken from the garden of my own home—how could anyone have expected it?’
Charles did not reply. He walked over to the window, looking out into the courtyard just as a curricle came bowling smartly up to the front entrance.
‘I believe you have another visitor.’ His gaze narrowed as he watched the driver of the curricle throw the reins to his groom and get down. ‘I think it is your cousin, Lady Arabella.’
‘Ralph? Good grief!’ Arabella went to join him at the window as the visitor mounted the steps at the imposing front door and wielded the knocker vigorously. She turned to her aunt to confirm it. ‘Ralph has come to visit you, Aunt Hester. I shall go down and greet him, tell him that we have guests staying.’
She left the room and went down the main stairway as Ralph was being admitted. She had reached the bottom of the stairs when Charles came to the top and stood looking down. He watched as a footman helped Ralph off with his driving cape, gloves and hat, alert and ready should he be needed.
‘Good afternoon, cousin,’ Arabella said in a pleasant tone.
‘This is a surprise. You did not let us know of your intention to visit. I am afraid that we have several guests. I am not sure that I can offer you a bed for the night.’ It was a lie—there were rooms to spare, but she would not have felt comfortable with him staying in the house.
‘Oh, you need not bother,’ Ralph said airily, though his eyes glinted with suppressed anger as he looked at her. She was beautiful, wealthy and proud—but she would be humbled soon enough. He had Sir Courtney’s word on that. Remembering their conversation, he smiled suddenly. ‘I have just come from London. I had heard that Mama was staying here and I wanted to see how she was now. I remember that she had been a little off colour before I left town.’
‘Yes. Something she ate, we think,’ Arabella reminded him. She did not like the way he was smiling—as if he were gloating over something. She had no intention of mentioning his mother’s fall. Let him stew over it a little longer!
‘Well, she should be more careful,’ Ralph said arrogantly. Had his cousin wished to accuse him of harming his mother, she would have done it by now. He was in the clear as far as that other business was concerned and he had regained his courage. ‘I trust she is better now? I had thought she might let me know—or that you would, Arabella.’
‘I should have let you know if there was cause for concern.’
‘Perhaps.’ Ralph looked uncertain again. Arabella appreciated his difficulty: he could hardly ask if his mother had recovered from a fall that no one had told him of. ‘I suppose I may see her?’
Arabella resisted the temptation to tell him that he was not welcome in her house. Until she had proof of his intentions, she could hardly prevent him from seeing his mother, though she would not encourage his visits.
‘Yes, of course. Please come up. As I told you, we have several guests, but you are welcome to join us. We shall have tea in a little while.’
‘I would prefer to speak to Mama alone.’
‘You are at liberty to ask her, cousin.’
Arabella turned and walked upstairs, her bearing almost regal. Charles had remained at the top, watching, ready to spring to her defence if necessary. Their eyes met, but neither spoke until Ralph was with them.
‘I believe you know Mr Hunter, Ralph?’
‘We have met.’ Ralph stared at him coldly. ‘Didn’t expect to see you here, Hunter.’
‘You must know that Lady Tate and Mrs Hunter are great friends, Sir Ralph.’ Charles addressed him formally, meeting his challenge with one of his own. ‘And of course Lady Arabella and I are becoming good friends.’
Something in his eyes dared Ralph to deny it. He did not, merely inclining his head. He had taken a bold step in coming here like this, but Sir Courtney had demanded it and he dared do no other than fall in line with his plans. He had been promised that his debt would be at an end and he would receive a substantial gift if things went as Sir Courtney intended.
‘Indeed? That is new, Arabella. Thinking of making a match of it, are you?’ They would have to work fast if she were to be married! It would be too late if she made a will in Hunter’s favour.
‘I think you presume too far, cousin,’ Arabella said, her face impassive, giving nothing away. ‘If I were contemplating marriage, I should not feel the need to inform you.’
‘Head of the family,’ Ralph muttered. ‘Not that you’ve ever shown me the slightest respect. You always go your own way, Arabella.’
‘Yes, I have and shall continue to do so.’
They had reached the drawing room. It was on the first floor and, being large, used only when there were several guests. Arabella went in first. Charles stood back and allowed Ralph to precede him, the cold glin
t in his eyes making Arabella’s cousin uncomfortable. Lady Tate looked at Arabella, frowning slightly as she saw her son following behind.
‘Good afternoon, Ralph. It was good of you to call.’
‘I shall not stay long,’ he replied in a perfunctory manner that bordered on rudeness. ‘I must be back in London tomorrow. I hoped I might speak with you alone, Mama.’
Lady Tate hesitated. She did not particularly wish to be private with him, though she knew that she was safe enough. Ralph would do nothing to harm her when there were so many other people in the house.
‘Very well, Ralph. We shall go downstairs to the back parlour.’ She glanced at Arabella. ‘I shall only be a matter of minutes, my dear. Selina has promised to play a hand of whist with me. Ralph, walk in front of me if you please. I recently had a fall and I watch my step more carefully now. You will walk more quickly.
Ralph shot a look at her and then at Arabella, but neither of them displayed any emotion. It was as he had thought—he could not be blamed in connection with his mother’s fall; there was no proof, no matter what his nosy cousin might think.
Arabella watched as her aunt went out. She moved to the far end of the room, appearing to study a collection of Chinese porcelain in the mahogany display cabinet. Charles came to stand beside her.
‘She is safe enough,’ he said in a low voice. ‘He would not dare to harm her with so many of us present to testify against him.’
‘I have warned my housekeeper to stay close whenever he visits,’ Arabella said. ‘She will be within call should my aunt cry out—but I believe you are right. I do not know why he has called, but he will not dare to attempt anything at this time. I dare say he has come to ask for money again.’
‘Yes, that is probable,’ Charles agreed, his expression serious as he looked at her. ‘You have a great deal to worry you, Arabella. My offer holds good. Shall I go after him and warn him off? It may be done discreetly.’
