by Tinnean
“Eh?”
“He’s suffering from a bellyache.”
“That’s all?” Johnson was disbelieving.
“I assure you. I have no doubt that if you check your larder, you’ll find your son has got into something he shouldn’t have.”
“The dried apples! I was going to bake pies for Easter. I’ve never made them before, and I wanted to practice. I had them in a pan of water. I thought the dog had knocked it over and eaten them, and I gave Johnson an earful for letting that animal into the house, but it must have been young Burt!” Mrs. Johnson turned into her husband’s embrace, and they both wept, their relief—the relief we all felt—palpable. “Thank God. Oh, thank God!”
“Thank you, Dr. Medford.”
“Not at all, Sir Ashton. I’m pleased that it was nothing serious.”
As was I. “Johnson, if there’s anything you need, see Giffard.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. I can’t thank you enough….”
I grew uncomfortable with his effusiveness. “Quite all right. Since there’s no need for me here, I’ll return to the Hall.”
I chanced to overhear Dr. Medford say, “You’re quite fortunate that you’ve had Sir Ashton to deal with and not Sir Eustace. He’d have sent you away immediately, not even waiting to learn what ailed the boy.”
“We’re well aware, Doctor. That’s why Mrs. Johnson and I talked long and long before deciding to come here. We decided we had no choice, what with the boy….”
Surprised and pleased that the doctor’s opinion of me appeared to be changing, I passed out of earshot and heard nothing more.
IT WAS late Wednesday afternoon when the towncoach bearing Aunt Cecily, Arabella, and Miss Munro drew up before the Hall’s portico.
“Aunt. Arabella.”
“Ashton, this is Miss Munro.”
“How do you do, Miss Munro? Welcome to Fayerweather, and Laytham Hall.”
“Thank you, sir. So you are Sir Ashton,” she murmured. She was a tall, willowy young lady. Long lashes dipped down then rose to reveal eyes that were indeed bluer than the bluest of skies. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
“You mustn’t believe all you hear.” I scowled at Arabella, but she simply looked confused. Who then…? I set the question aside for the nonce. “I trust your journey was not too exhausting?”
“It was, a trifle. I’m rather weary, not to mention chilled and parched!” she remarked as she stripped off her mittens.
“I believe an early night is what’s called for.” Aunt Cecily put back the hood of her cloak. “We’ll all have a tray in our rooms, Mrs. Walker. If you’ll inform Cook?”
“Yes, m’lady.”
“Which room has been given Miss Munro?” Arabella handed David her muff and pelisse, then took her friend’s and gave them to him as well.
“The hyacinth room, Miss Arabella.”
“Splendid! You’re right down the hall from me, dearest Juliet! I’ll show you the way. Your maid can unpack while you come to my room, and you and I can have a comfortable coze. Mrs. Walker, you’ll bring our trays to my room.” Arabella wound her arm in Miss Munro’s, and they went up the stairs.
“I’d like a brief word with you, Ashton?”
“Certainly, Aunt Cecily.”
“The conservatory? And I could do with a glass of sherry, perhaps?”
“If that is your wish. Colling?”
“I’ll see to it, Sir Ashton.”
“Thank you. Aunt?” I offered her my arm and escorted her to the conservatory.
“Ah.” She gazed at the plants, moving from one to another and touching them with careful fingers. “They’re doing well.”
“I’m pleased you approve. Now I know you did not ask to speak with me because you were concerned about the state of your plants.”
“No, of course not.” Apparently distracted, she snapped a bloom off a flowering plant and brought it to her nose before dropping it to the table.
Colling entered the room on silent feet, set down a tray holding a decanter and two glasses, bowed, and left just as silently. I poured the sherry and gave a glass to Aunt Cecily.
“Will you join me?”
“Not just now, Aunt.”
She nodded and drained the glass more quickly than I had ever seen her do, then set it down. “Do you not think Juliet a lovely girl? And at the end of the day, she does stand to inherit a tidy sum.”
“Aunt Cecily….” Obviously it had been she who had filled Miss Munro’s ears with tales about me. And judging from the chit’s greeting, they had to be flattering in the extreme.
“Frederick Munro is becoming quite the rising star in Sir Robert Peel’s government. If we can ally our family with his….”
“Aunt, let me be frank with you. Sir Eustace has left the estate in less than auspicious straits. I cannot see any caring parent permitting me to wed his daughter, especially if she’s to be an heiress.”
She looked away. “I… I have some money put by. It is yours….”
“I cannot permit that. I must say I’m amazed that any of your dowry has remained, for you must know Sir Eustace squandered everything my Papa had left me.”
She blushed scarlet and actually began to wring her hands, and I felt the veriest wretch for distressing her.
“I beg your pardon, Aunt Cecily.” It was not at all the thing to discuss finances with ladies.
“No, I beg your pardon, Ashton,” she said in a low voice. “I….”
“It’s quite all right. All I ask is that you cease trying to make a match for me. When the time comes, I’ll find a wife.” I needs must, in order to get an heir. I just wondered how I would be able to accomplish the marriage act when the thought of coupling with a woman did nothing to arouse me. “But in the interim, I give you leave to match-make to your heart’s content with regards to Arabella.”
“Of course.” She smiled, but it was wan, and I could have beaten my head against a wall for reminding her of Arabella’s absent love, and therefore, of Robert and John as well.
John…. It had been quite a long while since I’d thought of him.
“It’s been a very long day for you, I’m sure. May I suggest you retire?”
“A splendid idea, Ashton. I believe I’ll do that.”
“Just one thing, Aunt Cecily?”
“Yes?”
“Have you… have you seen Geo recently?”
“Why… no.” She furrowed her brow. “I do believe it’s been some weeks since we last encountered him. I was rather surprised to note his relationship with George was not as cordial as I’d expected, so beyond that one dinner…. Has he not been paying his usual visits? No, of course not, if you must ask for him. Shall I write to George and ask if he knows where Geo might be? Although with George en route to Austria….”
“Thank you, Aunt, but that will not be necessary. I imagine Geo’s just grown weary of the country in winter.”
“Yes.” She sighed and touched my arm. “Good evening, Ashton.”
“Good evening, Aunt.” I didn’t watch as she left the room.
My throat felt clogged, caused by the cloying odor of the flowers, I had no doubt.
I DIDN’T see the ladies again until dinner the following evening.
“I trust you had an enjoyable day, Miss Munro?”
“Oh, yes, Sir Ashton. Dear Lady Cecily was so kind as to show me around Laytham Hall. You have a very impressive home, and it contains so many lovely things.” She glanced at me from under her lashes. “I understand your lands are equally lovely.”
“I must agree, but then this has been my home for most of my life.”
“Lady Cecily was telling me about how you lost your parents at such a very tender age.”
“Indeed.” The last thing I wished to discuss was that tragic time. A change of topic was necessitated, and I said the first thing that popped into my head. “If you like, I’ll be happy to take you around the estate.”
“I should like that.”
&
nbsp; “Ashton, I’m coming with you!”
“Certainly you may come, too, Arabella.” I was relieved. I’d always been somewhat tongue-tied around young ladies, and even now was at something of a loss as to what to converse about with Miss Munro. “I had in mind taking the phaeton—”
“Oh, no, we must ride! Please, Sir Ashton?” Miss Munro smiled winsomely. “I vow there is nothing more tame than to be sitting behind a horse when one longs above all else to be atop one!”
My wayward thoughts strayed to the image of Geo atop me, and for a moment I lost track of the conversation.
“Sir Ashton? Did you not hear what I said?”
I shook myself out of that pleasant if futile reverie and willed my unruly flesh to behave. “I beg your pardon, Miss Munro. Of course I heard you, and if that is your wish….”
“Then it’s settled.” Arabella was almost bouncing in her seat. “We’ll take the horses out tomorrow. Oh, how I’ve missed riding! I’m looking forward to a first-rate gallop. How is my own dear Lancelot, Ashton?”
“He’s in fine fettle.”
Arabella turned to her friend. “Lancelot was a gift from Aunt Cecy when I was first blooded!”
Recalling that occasion, I brought my napkin to my lips to conceal my amusement. Knowing Arabella, we had been uncertain as to whether she would cast up her accounts upon the Master’s boots or fall before them in a dead faint at the sight of the fox’s bloody brush.
“Isn’t riding to hounds the most exhilarating thing?”
“As to that, I fear I cannot say, for my dearest Papa will not permit me to do so, considering it too dangerous a sport for ladies.”
“A pity. The home farm has been plagued by vermin, and I’d planned a hunt. However, I can have Giffard deal with it.”
“Thank you!” Miss Munro lowered her eyes demurely, looking pleased that I would be changing my plans to accommodate her. “I do hope you’ll give me a spirited mount, Sir Ashton!”
I smiled but said nothing. As with Geo, I would give her Onyx until I saw how well she handled a horse.
“I understand there are many places of interest on your land. Perhaps one day soon you’ll show me the maze?”
“If the weather turns fair and the ground dries, it will be my pleasure.”
“Oh, and you must see the folly!” Arabella enthused. “It’s the most romantic thing! Legend has it that King James dallied there!”
“King James?”
“The first James. He granted the charter and the lands to Osburt Laytham.”
Legend also had it that it was Sir Osburt himself with whom the king dallied, although I rather doubted the ladies were aware of this.
“So old! I’m sure it must be haunted!”
“Not at all,” Aunt Cecily said with some amusement.
“Nevertheless, I should be afraid to set foot in it lest the floor give way beneath me!”
“There’s no need. It’s always been kept in good repair! And it’s such a heavenly place, surrounded by the heady scent of roses….” Arabella’s cheeks abruptly pinked. Did she think it was a secret that she and William would tryst there?
Truth to tell, so had Geo and I.
“It has.” A faint smile ghosted over Aunt Cecily’s lips. Obviously she also had pleasant memories of the gazebo, although I found it difficult to believe that she and Sir Eustace had ever once shared a fond embrace in that secluded spot. She raised her glass for a sip of wine, then paused and asked, “How are you enjoying the meal, Juliet?”
Miss Munro took a dainty bite of the roast Cook had been to such pains to prepare and murmured, “Dear Papa insists on having a chef in our kitchen, but I must admit this is delicious.”
“Yes, Cook is quite as good as Mr. Stephenson’s London chef! She’s been here at Laytham Hall since Aunt Cecy arrived as a bride.”
“How very fortunate to have such a skilled woman.”
“Oh, yes! She knows all our favorites, and for his last birthday made William a—” She gasped, flushed, and bit back the rest of her words.
“William? I don’t believe you ever mentioned that name. Are you keeping secrets from me? Is he your beau?” Miss Munro asked archly.
Arabella looked as if she were about to weep, and Aunt Cecily stepped in. “Merely an old childhood friend. Juliet, Arabella has told me that you’ve offered to demonstrate the latest dance steps.”
Arabella smiled at Aunt Cecily, grateful for the change of topic. “And to teach them to me as well. Oh, dearest Aunt Cecy, please say we may have a musical evening!”
“I don’t see why not, since we will be en famille. Do you have any objections, Ashton?”
“I have none, Aunt Cecily.”
Arabella’s eyes widened, much as they always did when it was brought to her attention that as head of the household, my permission was needed for the least thing.
“You’ll join us, won’t you, sir? Please say you will!” Miss Munro begged prettily. “I know we should have the most splendid time, even more so if we have a gentleman to partner us!”
“You do recall how to dance, don’t you, Ashton?” Once again there was a spiteful bite to Arabella’s words. Would the chit never grow up?
“Of course he does, Arabella. After all, M. Sanxay was an exceptionally skilled dancing master, and much in demand.” Aunt Cecily had brought the man to Laytham Hall because she thought it would be a good idea for us all to learn.
I remembered those lessons all too well.
I disliked the dancing master, with his supercilious attitude and cutting comments. His breath smelled of violets in an attempt to disguise the sour odor beneath it.
“Un, deux, trois. Un, deux, trois,” he intoned monotonously, then shrieked, “Non! Non, et non, et non! Maladroit! Comme ceci!”
He put his hands on me to position me, pinching my hip hard enough to leave a bruise, and I tangled my feet and stumbled. When my eyes shot up to meet his, there was cruel delight in his gaze.
And of course the Hoods laughed, pointing and mocking me, oblivious to my distress.
A time or two like that, and I found other things to do when M. Sanxay called us to practice.
Geo was a much more skillful instructor, or perhaps it was his method of teaching that was more welcomed, distracting me with kisses and touches so light that I forgot to stare at my feet and count steps, and simply followed his lead as we spun about the room.
ALTHOUGH I had waltzed with Geo, there had never been an occasion for me to stand up with a young lady. Would I try to take her left hand in my right one, rest my left hand upon her shoulder rather than having my right one lightly on her waist? I was a trifle nervous about it, but I bowed slightly and said, “I shall do my utmost not to tread upon your toes.”
Dinner passed in sprightly conversation between Arabella and Miss Munro of clothes and young men they had seen while strolling through the park, with Aunt Cecily adding indulgent remarks from time to time.
Once I rejoined the ladies, after having my solitary brandy, we repaired to the rose sitting room, where furniture was removed out of the way, and while Aunt Cecily played a variety of waltzes by Johann Strauss, who was all the rage in London just now, I managed to acquit myself respectably.
MIDMORNING THE next day, I awaited the ladies in the Great Hall, but only Arabella and Miss Munro tripped gaily down the stairs.
“I am so looking forward to this!” Miss Munro trilled.
“Where is Aunt Cecily?”
“She won’t be joining us. She said something about going over the household accounts with Mrs. Walker.”
“Ah. Miss Munro, you really don’t need that riding crop.” It was too reminiscent of the crop Sir Eustace had favored, and I didn’t like the looks of it. “Our horses are very well-behaved.”
“Oh, I never ride without one!” she cried gaily.
“It is not necessary, and I must request that you leave it behind.”
She frowned, for the first time displaying any but the most cordial of c
ountenances, and I was somewhat startled. Was she about to stamp her foot and pout? But then the expression smoothed from her face, and she shrugged as if it was of no import and laid the crop down on a table.
“Very well, Sir Ashton. Shall we go?”
We strolled out to the stable, Miss Munro chatting about a recent visit to Paris with her Papa.
Arabella sighed with envy. “I should love to travel to Paris one day and buy all the latest fashions.”
“Then you must wed a wealthy man, dearest Arabella!”
Arabella raised her arms to straighten her hat and adjust its veil. “Perhaps I shall.” But I still saw the flash of unhappiness on her face.
Just then, Jem happened out, the chestnut colt dancing on the lead after him.
“What a beautiful animal!” Miss Munro uttered, obviously entranced by the colt’s dashing looks.
“Mr. Ruston thought it would be a good idea to turn him loose in the upper paddock, Sir Ashton, to get some of the fidgets out of him after these last days of rain.”
“Oh, may I have him to ride? Please, dear Sir Ashton?” She placed her hand upon my arm and fluttered her lashes. Did she think to work her wiles on me? “Please say I may!”
“I’m sorry, but that’s impossible. The colt belongs to someone else.” Even if Geo had never been here to actually take possession of his gift.
“I’m sure his owner would not think to deny a lady her request!”
Perhaps not, but I would. However, I decided it would be more politic to simply say, “He’s a young animal, and his training isn’t quite complete. I’m afraid it wouldn’t be safe for you.”
“I’m an excellent horsewoman, I’ll have you know, and I’m quite sure I would have no trouble controlling the brute!”
“Nevertheless, I must deny your request, Miss Munro.” The idea that anyone could refer to the colt as a brute appalled me. “Here come our horses now.” Young Jack led out Lancelot, followed by Dickon, our newest groom, with Onyx. “Off to the paddock now, Jem.”
“Aye, Sir Ashton.” Relieved to escape an incipient brangle, Jem almost ran, the colt trotting obediently alongside him.
