Scandal at Greystone Manor

by Mary Nichols

  ‘How thoughtful of you,’ murmured Lady Cavenhurst. ‘And if Mark has no objection, I will make sure she has it.’

  ‘I have no objection, why should I?’ Mark said. ‘Drew has already presented my mother with one.’

  ‘Would you care for one, Lady Cavenhurst?’ Drew asked.

  ‘That is very kind of you, sir, but I think not. I do not have the figure for such a thing.’

  ‘As you wish.’ He turned to Jane. ‘What about you, Miss Cavenhurst? Would you like one?’

  ‘As Mama said, it is very kind of you, but I could not possibly accept such a gift. It is enough that you have promised to donate to my orphan charity.’ It was the answer expected of an unmarried lady, but she could not help feeling a pang of disappointment. She had never seen or touched so fine a fabric.

  Isabel, who had heard and seen the gentlemen arrive from her bedchamber window, had hurriedly renewed her toilette and came to join them. Both men stood up and Mark hurried to take both her hands in his. ‘Are you feeling better, my dear?’

  ‘Yes, don’t fuss, Mark. I was upset because I thought my gown was ruined, but Mama told me Jane can fix it, so all is not lost, after all.’ She turned to Drew. ‘Good afternoon, Mr Ashton. I am sorry I did not greet you properly earlier. Please forgive me.’ This was said with a dazzling smile.

  He bowed to her. ‘It is understandable, Miss Isabel. Gentlemen sometimes do not understand the importance of a lady’s dress.’

  She gave a tinkling laugh. ‘But you do, is that so?’

  Jane was shocked at her sister’s offhand treatment of Mark and her obvious attempt to flirt with Drew. ‘Sit down, Issie,’ she said. ‘The gentlemen cannot be seated again until you do.’

  Jane was sitting beside her mother on one sofa, so Isabel sat on the other. Mark seated himself beside her and Drew found a chair. It was then Isabel noticed the silk in her mother’s lap. ‘What have you there, Mama?’

  ‘It is a sari, my love. A wedding present to you from Mr Ashton.’

  ‘A sari! Oh, Mama, may I accept it?’

  ‘Mark has said you may, so I have no objection.’

  Isabel was on her feet again and letting the material cascade over her arm in shining ripples. ‘It’s lovely,’ she said, bright-eyed. ‘Oh, thank you, Mr Ashton. You are so thoughtful, I am overwhelmed.’

  ‘I thought it could be used for a new wedding gown if the other was ruined.’

  ‘But it is not ruined and I want to keep this as a sari. There are yards and yards of it. How is it worn?’

  ‘I think you will need the help of your maid. There is a knack to it.’

  ‘Bessie would not have any idea. Can you show me?’

  ‘Isabel, I am sure Bessie will manage it when you are in your own room,’ her mother said. ‘The parlour is hardly the place to dress, especially with gentlemen present.’

  ‘Mr Ashton can show me on himself.’

  ‘Isabel!’ Her mother was shocked.

  ‘I am too big and too clumsy,’ Drew said, laughing. ‘I have printed instructions with illustrations for the benefit of European ladies. I will have a copy sent over for your maid to study.’

  ‘That will serve admirably,’ her ladyship said. ‘Isabel, I suggest you fold it up and take it to your room before you knock your tea all over it.’

  ‘Anyone would think I was clumsy,’ she said.

  ‘No, but you are somewhat excitable,’ her mother said. ‘I beg you to calm yourself.’

  Isabel disappeared with the sari and the others drank their tea in silence for a minute or two. Jane was shocked by her sister’s behaviour. She would not blame Mark if he gave her a put down when he managed to find her on her own. What motive did Mr Ashton have for making the gift? Was it simply as he had said, a wish to help over the accident with the gown, or was there more to it? He was evidently attracted to her sister. Was Isabel aware of it? Was Mark? He would never believe ill of Isabel. Or was she herself seeing more than was really there?

  ‘The weather is set fair for the next few days,’ Mark said. ‘I promised to show Drew more of our county and we plan an excursion to Cromer tomorrow. I wondered if Miss Cavenhurst and Isabel might like to join us, if you and they agree, my lady?’

  ‘I can see no harm in it,’ her ladyship said. ‘What do you say, Jane? Do you think Isabel would like it?’

  ‘I am sure she would,’ Jane answered. She was not so sure about wanting to go herself, but if her sister went then she would have to go, too, or their mother would never allow it.

  ‘That’s settled then,’ Mark said, rising to leave. ‘We will come at ten o’clock tomorrow morning with the carriage.’

  The men bowed to the ladies and left.

  * * *

  ‘When did you think of an outing to Cromer?’ Drew asked, as they walked back to Broadacres. ‘You did not mention it before we came.’

  ‘I thought the ladies might like it. It might serve to put Isabel in a calmer frame of mind and give Jane a little reward for the hard work she does. You have no objection, have you?’

  ‘None at all.’

  * * *

  Wyndham’s carriage was as comfortable as any well-sprung travelling coach could be; there was plenty of room inside for four. Hadlea to Cromer was not above twenty miles and they arrived in a little under two hours, having spent the time in idle chatter, most of it led by Isabel quizzing Drew about India and his travels.

  They pulled up at an inn in the lower part of the village near the church, where Jeremy, the coachman, and the horses would be looked after while they strolled along the beach. It had been warm in the coach, but as soon as they were out of it, they felt the cool breeze blowing off the sea. ‘I am glad we decided to bring warm shawls,’ Jane said, wrapping hers closer about her. Like her sister, she was wearing a muslin gown and a sarsenet pelisse. Hers was striped in two shades of green, Isabel’s was white. They both wore straw bonnets firmly tied on with ribbon.

  ‘Would you prefer to stay in the carriage?’ Mark asked her. ‘Or go to a hotel?’

  ‘Certainly not,’ she answered. ‘I came for the bracing sea air and that is what I mean to have. What about you, Issie?’

  ‘Me, too. I am sure the gentlemen do not want to be cooped up indoors and I am not a bit cold. I want to go down on the sand.’

  ‘Then you shall,’ Mark said, offering her his arm.

  She took it, leaving Jane to walk beside Drew, though she did not take his arm. They strolled down a narrow cobbled road at the end of which they had their first view of the beach and the sea. ‘It looks cold,’ Jane said.

  ‘It nearly always is,’ Mark said, turning to her with a chuckle. ‘There is nothing between Cromer and the Arctic, except sea. But at least that is calm today. Would you like to go bathing? It is supposed to be beneficial and there are machines down there if you would like it.’ It was early in the summer, though a few brave souls were taking a dip.

  ‘No, I do not think so,’ she said. ‘I shall be content to watch.’

  ‘It must seem even colder to you, Mr Ashton, after the heat of India,’ Isabel said.

  ‘Oh, I am a hardy soul, Miss Isabel. I might take a dip myself. What do you say, Mark?’ There were men in the sea a little further along the beach, but the girls would not go near them, for they nearly always took to the water naked, unlike the women who were hampered by voluminous clothing and did not stir far from the bathing machines where they changed.

  ‘I think I should stay with the ladies,’ Mark said. ‘But do you go if you have a mind to.’

  Drew would not go alone and all four made their way down a cliff path on to the sand. The beach was not crowded and they walked towards the water’s edge. Jane was more inclined to stride out when they reached the firmer wet sand and Mark kept up with her. Drew, behind them, stooped to pick
up a flat round stone and threw it into the sea in such a way it bounced along the waves two or three times before it disappeared.

  Isabel clapped her hands. ‘Oh, how clever of you, Mr Ashton! Do show me how to do it.’

  He picked up another stone and put it into her hand. ‘You need to throw it quite hard and keep the trajectory low,’ he said. ‘Set it spinning flat as it leaves your hand.’

  She tried and failed and tried again. ‘No, do it like this,’ he said, taking her hand and closing her fingers round the stone. Mark and Jane, who had gone a little ahead, turned to see why the other two were not close behind and were greeted with the sight of Drew with his arms about Isabel, trying to direct her aim. And they were both laughing.

  ‘Oh, dear,’ Jane said. ‘Isabel has no sense of propriety at all. It is as well there is no one on the beach who knows us.’

  ‘It is not her fault,’ Mark said. ‘Drew sometimes forgets he is not still in India where no doubt such familiarity is allowed.’

  Jane did not know how accurate that statement was, but it was so like Mark to see no harm in his beloved. She hurried back to her sister, followed by Mark.

  ‘Drew has been teaching me how to make a pebble bounce,’ Isabel called to them. ‘Do come and try it.’

  Jane could not rebuke her sister in front of others, but as they walked further along the beach she contrived to draw her out of earshot of the gentlemen. ‘I hate to scold, Issie, but really, you should not have allowed Mr Ashton to put his arm round you, nor should you have referred to him by his given name. Surely, you know better that that.’

  ‘Oh, don’t be such a fusspot, Jane. There was no harm in him showing me how to spin a pebble and Mark always uses Mr Ashton’s given name. It just slipped out.’

  ‘I am sure it did, but do try to be more careful.’

  ‘You are a fine one to talk. You have been seen in the village with Mark’s arms about you. Sophie had it off her friend, Maud Finch. Mrs Finch saw you with her own eyes.’

  Jane had a vague memory of seeing Mrs Finch talking to Mrs Stangate when she met Mark and Drew on the village green. ‘I stumbled and he prevented me from falling,’ she said. ‘You may trust Mrs Finch to make a mountain out of a molehill and Sophie should not have repeated it.’

  ‘You have quite ruined my day with your scolding.’ Isabel pouted. ‘I was having such fun.’

  But it was not long before she was holding her skirts up in her hand and racing over the sand to the water’s edge, laughing as the waves rippled over her kid shoes, which would undoubtedly be thrown out when they arrived home. Jane felt unhappy about the rebuke. It had made her sound a killjoy and she had not meant it to be like that at all. Her concern was for Mark. He had said nothing and even tried to excuse Isabel, but underneath he must have been feeling hurt. And if Mrs Finch’s gossip reached his ears he would be doubly embarrassed.

  Further along the beach they watched some fishing boats unloading their cargo of crabs and Mark bought two for the girls to take home for their cook and then they returned to the promenade for refreshments in the Red Lion. A short walk along the cliff top followed when they all used Drew’s telescope to scan the beach and the horizon.

  ‘How close everything looks,’ Jane said. ‘Why, I can see the sailors on the deck of that ship and its name quite clearly. It’s called Morning Star.’

  ‘That is the vessel that brought me home from India,’ Drew said. ‘It is a very good ship, well run and fast. It is something like that I have a mind to purchase.’

  ‘And then Mark and I will go to India on it,’ Isabel said. ‘Three more weeks to go. I can’t wait. Will you be sailing on her, too, Mr Ashton?’

  ‘It depends on what turns up,’ he said. ‘Perhaps.’

  ‘I think it is time we made our way back to the coach,’ Jane said. ‘Mama will be wondering what has become of us.’

  * * *

  The coach deposited them back at the Manor at five o’clock. Jane and Isabel said goodbye to their escorts and carried the parcel of crabs into the house. They were tired but happy, ready to regale their mother with what they had seen and done. No one that evening thought about tragedy and Isabel had ceased to moan about bad omens and suchlike fancies.

  * * *

  They had not expected to see Mark again so soon, but he arrived at an unheard-of hour next morning, looking so sorrowful that Jane immediately wondered what was wrong. Sir Edward had gone out to the stables to check on one of the horses that seemed lame, but the ladies were still seated at the breakfast table.

  He bowed to them all. ‘I am sorry to disturb you so early,’ he said. ‘But I am afraid I bring dreadful news and I did not want you to hear it from anyone else.’ He paused and gulped, then went on. ‘My father passed away in his sleep last night.’

  Lady Cavenhurst was the first to recover from the shock. ‘Oh, you poor man,’ she said. ‘What a dreadful thing to happen. His lordship seemed so well when we dined with you the other evening.’

  ‘His valet found him when he went to wake him this morning and immediately alerted me,’ he said. ‘I sent for Dr Trench, though I knew it was too late to do anything for him. His heart just gave out, the doctor told me. As you can imagine, my mother is distraught.’

  ‘Poor Lady Wyndham,’ Jane said. ‘Is there anything we can do?’

  ‘I do not think so. Later, perhaps, she might appreciate a visit.’ He turned to Isabel, who was staring at him as if he were an apparition. ‘Isabel, I am so sorry, but the wedding will have to be postponed while I am in mourning.’

  ‘Postponed,’ she echoed, then burst into tears.

  Jane ran to comfort her. ‘Hush, Issie, you must be brave for Mark’s sake. He will have a great deal to do in the next few weeks.’

  ‘That is true,’ he agreed. ‘And I am afraid I must go. I will let you know about the arrangements for the funeral later. Isabel, will you accompany me to the front door? That is if her ladyship agrees.’

  ‘Of course. Go along, Isabel. And please offer my condolences to your mother, my lord.’

  He managed a wry smile. ‘I suppose I will have to get used to that, but please don’t stand on formality, my lady. I was Mark, I remain Mark to you.’ He reached out a hand to Isabel. ‘Come, my dear, I wish to talk to you.’

  Isabel took the hand and together they left the room. Jane and her mother were left looking at each other, not knowing what to say.

  ‘This is dreadful news indeed,’ her ladyship said. ‘I feel for poor Lady Wyndham. Theirs was a true love match. I wonder how long a period of mourning there will be?’

  ‘A year is usual, Mama.’

  ‘I know. We shall have to help Isabel bear up. And I suppose I had better make a start on cancelling the wedding invitations and ask Cook to cancel the orders for the banquet.’ She smiled suddenly. ‘At least your father will be spared the expense of it for now.’

  Jane supposed someone had to think of the practicalities, but she was more concerned with how Mark and his mother were feeling and her heart went out to them. To lose one so dear so suddenly must be very hard to bear.

  Chapter Four

  Mark returned to Broadacres, overwhelmed by misery and the weight of responsibility that now rested on his shoulders. There was so much to do and a wedding was the last thing on his mind. Isabel had been upset, which was understandable, he supposed, but he had managed to calm her before he left, telling her the time of mourning would soon pass and then they would have the wedding she dreamed of.

  ‘We might not be able to have the long wedding trip we planned,’ he had told her. ‘There will be much to do on the estate. But perhaps we will be able to go later when I am settled into my new role. It has come so suddenly, I cannot take it all in.’

  ‘Mama called you “my lord”. That really brought home to me what has happened and how
your life will change. You might not be the same person at all.’

  ‘Nonsense. I shall not change just because I have inherited a title and an estate. You, of course, will become Lady Wyndham when we marry.’

  ‘And shall I be mistress of Broadacres?’

  ‘Naturally, you will.’

  ‘I am not sure I shall be any good at it. I might let you down.’

  ‘Oh, you silly goose,’ he had said, dropping a kiss on her forehead. ‘Of course you will not let me down and you will have the mourning period to become used to the idea. Now I must go. I shall see you again when you and your mother call on my mother.’

  * * *

  Lady Wyndham, he was told when he arrived home and enquired for her, had been given a tisane by her maid and was resting in her room. He did not disturb her, but spoke to the steward about matters of the estate, telling him to carry on as usual, then he set about writing letters to everyone who needed to be told of his father’s demise. It was sad work and he had to stop frequently to overcome his emotion. His father had been the best of fathers, spending time with him as he grew up, teaching him to shoot, fish and ride, making sure he had a good education, instilling in him a sense of what was right and proper, and showing him by example to care for those around him. ‘High and low, we are all human beings,’ he had said once. ‘We should treat everyone with the dignity they deserve whether they be the poorest labourer or the king of England.’ Now he was no more.

  Already the news was becoming known in the village and people were going about with long faces. Many of the servants and even the hardy outside staff were openly weeping. Lord Wyndham had been a popular figure, known for his humanity and fairness. Mark prayed he would be able to live up to his father’s ideals.

  * * *

  Drew came to him as he was finishing the last of the letters. ‘I assume there will be no wedding yet a while,’ he said. ‘And now is not the time for house guests. I plan to leave for London by tonight’s mail.’

  ‘I shall miss you, Drew.’

  ‘And I you. But I will return for the funeral, if you would like me to.’