Sir Richard laughed happily, beating time on the arm of his chair, saying “Lofty Laura! Lofty Laura!”
Elspeth cried, “How can you repeat such vile epithets, from childish times?”
“They do date from childish times, when perhaps I was not always so guarding of my tongue,” said Laura. “As we do not all improve as we grow old, perhaps I shall be one of the unimproved—a wicked old lady who has forgotten how to soften the edges of her speech.”
“You do not always remember to do so now,” sniffed her sister.
Sir Richard was looking sad, and opened his mouth wordlessly.
Laura forced a smile. “Sometimes people are so foolish as to forfeit all claim to my indulgence.”
“You are always generous to me, Laura,” said Sir Richard. “And I am as foolish as any.”
“Indeed you are not foolish, Richard!” exclaimed Elspeth. “You are the head of the family, and a man of property.”
“An estate that you manage very well,” said Edward. “Your son will be grateful to you.”
Sir Richard blushed. “I know not if there will be a son.”
Edward laughed. “A son will follow after you take a wife, Cousin.”
“Take a wife?” Sir Richard seemed mesmerised by Elspeth’s feathers, bouncing as she leant forward, nodding her head conspiratorially.
“We shall find you a bride, Richard, in your own circle of acquaintances. I imagine that there is any number of young ladies vying for the position.”
“I…I … would not have you interfere, Elspeth.”
“A good marriage is always a question of interference, Richard. It was our Aunt Morrison who convinced me to listen to Mr. Evans, and thus I discovered his excellent qualities. How gloomy you were about it all, Laura.”
“I was concerned for your happiness.”
“There are many paths leading to that elusive state. No, it is much better as it is. I am in a position to offer my sister a home a good deal more comfortable than she may otherwise have found.”
The meal came to an end. The gentlemen stood while the ladies went across the dining hall and into the wide gallery. The sisters went up the left branch of the stairs to the solar, so pleasant in the autumn, with the rosy light of the setting sun sliding across the room. There Elspeth seated herself at the pianoforte and began to look through the music.
Laura took out her sketchbook. “You seem determined to interfere in everyone’s life,” she said.
“You will scarcely feel restricted, if you avoid doing anything foolish, such as writing letters to the wrong people.”
Laura turned to her. “Letters?”
“I am to see them before they are sent.”
“You cannot do this to me, Elspeth!”
“Can I not? If you write nothing of which you might be ashamed, you cannot object to my seeing them.” She turned a bland smile upon her sister. “There is no way around this, Laura. The servants know where their best interests lie.”
Laura knew how little a servant could afford to risk being dismissed without a reference.
“You abuse your power, Elspeth.”
“My family’s reputation is everything to me. You know that the slightest slip from probity in a female causes disgrace to all her connections.”
Laura turned away. She stood now accused of threatening all her family with scandal—over what? For a few moments, she studied her sketch of the Pinney at Lyme. She had shown part of the fallen cliff and captured the richness of the verdure but she was too angry to contemplate it with satisfaction.
She put it down and went over to the piano.
“Why do you threaten to find a wife for Richard? He will be miserable if married to a woman who took him only for the position he offers.”
Elspeth played a few light chords on the instrument before saying, “He is incompetent in the art of obtaining a wife.”
“He would prefer the single state than to be tied to a woman of your choice.”
Elspeth’s nimble fingers trilled across the keys, before she stopped and turned on the stool to look at her sister.
“My interference is designed to keep Richard out of the married state.”
“What?”
“You know how stubborn he can be.” Elspeth rose and wandered daintily around the room, touching an ornament here and there. Coming close to Laura, she said quietly, “Our brother should be master of this house. If only Richard had been a girl, Edward would now be baronet.”
“Edward would never have such thoughts.”
“He cannot but think of it. It is Richard’s inheritance that sent my brother to his fate.”
“You cannot blame Richard for inheriting his own father’s estate.”
The delicate rosy light was fading from the sky, the large windows slowly turning a darker blue. Elspeth’s lace took on the colour of a bruise. She continued, in a whisper, “There is another way to pass the estate to our side of the family.”
“I don’t even wish to think of what that means.”
Laura felt goosebumps rise, as Elspeth’s fingers caressed the back of her neck.
“Richard never has an original idea in his head. You might supply the imagination that is missing.”
Laura looked at her coolly. “Let us have some light, Elspeth. You are standing by the bell. Why do you not ring it?”
Meanwhile, in the dining hall, Edward had given Sir Richard the hint to dismiss the servants after the decanters had been set out.
“Richard, you will have perceived that all is not well with Laura just now.”
“She is not her usual self.”
“She has had a disappointment in Lyme, which prompted us to come to you earlier than planned.”
The baronet’s mouth drooped. “Poor Laura!”
“A gentleman showed admiration, only to decamp without a farewell.”
“She deserves better!” said Sir Richard.
“Yes, yes. I am sorry to add that Laura has behaved in a peculiar manner, refusing to accept his defection. She went out, twice, in search of information of his whereabouts.”
“Impossible!” said Sir Richard. “Laura has too much pride.”
“Richard, I cannot convey the alarm that Elspeth and I have experienced. Laura only met the gentleman three times, hardly the base for affection.”
“Love at first sight …?”
“There can be no such thing!”
Sir Richard at once capitulated. “Of course!”
“Laura insisted that her admirer met with an accident.”
“Perhaps he has?”
“Ridiculous, Richard. I hope you won’t encourage Laura in these theories.”
“Of course, I wouldn’t like to prolong her suffering by raising her hopes.”
Edward leant forward. “It is of the utmost importance that you concur with our arrangements, Richard.”
Sir Richard looked wary. “Which are?”
“Elspeth has appointed Jonathon, her most trusted servant, as Laura’s constant guard. She will not leave the house without him.”
“What?”
“There are to be no letters to Lyme or to a Mrs. Gurdon. All Laura’s correspondence must come first to her sister.”
Sir Richard sagged in his seat. “How can I give such orders?”
“Instruct your servants that all letters are to come to you. Any by Laura you show to Elspeth.”
Sir Richard stared at his wine glass. “This is too dreadful, Edward.”
“It is for Laura’s protection. These meetings with the wretched fellow have … unsettled her.”
Edward poured himself another glass of port. “Do you know, Richard, I wonder if Laura’s unreasonable hopes of this man can be traced to the many difficulties of her life.”
“Laura has been lonely for so many years!” said Sir Richard.
Edward stared at him. “I wouldn’t have put it so strongly as that!” he said.
“Oh?” Sir Richard sounded surprised.
Ed
ward shrugged. “As time goes by, Laura will start to be angry with him, and thus be on the road to forgetting him altogether.”
Sir Richard was slumped over one arm of his chair, his hand hanging down towards the floor. His spaniel waddled over from the fireside and licked his master’s hand.
“Oh, Spotty!” said Sir Richard, mirroring the spaniel’s expression of gloom.
“Come, my good fellow!” said Edward. “Drink up! All will be well!”
CHAPTER 8
EVEN BEFORE SHE OPENED HER eyes, Laura felt oppressed by thoughts that had disturbed her through the night. She was tired to the bone.
She arose, drew a wrap around her shoulders and stood woodenly at the window, watching the way the sun lit up the tops of the pines and sent sprinklings of light through the trees at the edge of the forest, then across the grassy slope at the base of the hill. She felt distanced from it, felt that any joy must filter through an invisible barrier that now stood between her and her world.
Ironically, relegation to the second guest room after Elspeth’s marriage, had given her this beautiful view. Laura recalled Elspeth’s little smile of triumph, on that first Christmas visit to Oakmont after her marriage, when she was given the room that had once been Laura’s, with its aspect over the gravel drive and lawns. That smile began the alteration in our relations, Laura thought; what lies ahead for me now?
She seated herself at the table and opened her little desk, turning back the lid. She glanced once more at the play of light in the trees, thought of sketching it, but decided against it. She lifted out her journal and opened it by pressing the small brass catch.
Tuesday 16th September
I am bereft of everything I held dear. I am returned to the house where I have spent so many happy visits, to find all unchanged here but myself. In the week since I last saw Mr. Templeton, I have tumbled from the highest anticipation, from a sense of being truly valued by another, to the lowest I ever thought to be in others’ estimation.
Naturally Elspeth and Edward thought me indecorous when I tried to discover Mr. Templeton’s fate. Yet, as I feared some mischance had befallen him, I believe my boldness cannot be judged by everyday standards. I never imagined the day could come when I would be locked in my room, that I would be seized by menservants, and carried away. Pray God I will find the grace to forgive this indignity.
From long ago being the creature dearest in the world to Elspeth, I am become an embarrassment. I can bear the forfeit of her respect for, in truth, I have respected her but little in my heart for some time.
Yet, the loss of my brother’s respect and high esteem is a bitter blow; I know not how I can recover from it.
If Mr. Templeton is serious in his regard, and has suffered some accident, he will find me out. In that event … Oh, why do I feel it is impossible? It is all so peculiar that my fears cannot be confided even in these pages.
Laura stared out vaguely at the familiarity of Oakmont’s hill, where the early rays of the sun had ceased to dance around the old trees. She blotted the page, locked her journal away and rang for her maid. There was a giggle from the passage and the muffled sound of Sarah’s voice. When the girl entered with a jug of hot water and a towel, Laura saw that her cheeks were flushed.
As she was helping her mistress on with her coat, Sarah said, “Sir Richard has never seen your new blue coat and bonnet.”
“He will not be astonished by my new coat. This brown object will do very well for the forest.”
Sarah held out the long filmy orange scarf.
“No! I never wish to see that scarf again.”
Sarah looked surprised. “’Tis all but new, miss.”
Laura did not reply, quickly leaving the room. In the corridor, she all but stumbled over Jonathon, who stood too close to the door.
“So it was you who kept Sarah standing about with a heavy jug in her hands,” she said.
“I offered to carry it in for her, madam.”
“Very well.”
Laura set off down the corridor, only to hear the soft footfalls of the footman behind her.
“Jonathon! Can you not find something useful to do?”
Jonathon bit his lip. “’Tis mistress’s orders.”
Laura did not reply, but went swiftly downstairs and out into the gardens.
In no time she was walking briskly up among the pines, breathing in the early crispness of their scent, feeling the cold against her cheeks, while she warmed within. At the top of the hill, she stopped at a favourite spot where she might sit and enjoy a view for miles around. Her lovely surroundings were just as they always were. Even the distant crags, in their romantic ruggedness, had a solid, familiar look that seemed to laugh at the mutation in all her feelings. She began to hope that the small pleasures of her previous life might return.
Turning back down the hill, she encountered Jonathon, on guard just out of sight. She ignored him, returning to the house with flushed cheeks, and her green eyes glowing with the exercise. Her relations were seated in the breakfast parlour. They turned to greet her, pausing in their meal—Edward forking up ham and eggs, Sir Richard chomping on a piece of pie, while Elspeth picked at an array of dainty portions of this and that.
“You are very late,” said Elspeth, and her emphatic tone produced in Laura a sinking sense of freedom dwindling away.
“Good morning, Laura,” her brother said kindly. “How well you look.”
“Your cheeks are glowing quite red,” declared Sir Richard.
“Glowing,” murmured Elspeth.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Her cheeks are simply glowing, Cousin. There is no need to mention redness.”
“I believe I like red cheeks excessively!” he cried valiantly.
Elspeth responded with a delicate cringe, and Sir Richard cleared his throat. “I am expecting dinner guests today—Colonel Woodruff and his family,” he said.
“Woodruff?” said Elspeth.
“The colonel is new to the district, having inherited Lewton Hall. I wrote to let you know of the young master’s fatal riding accident.”
“Oh, yes, Richard. The new heir is somewhat distantly related? Woodruff, indeed!” said Elspeth.
“I have met them five times … no, four times. They are very respectable, dear Cousin Elspeth.”
“Are they? Well!”
A few hours later, Colonel Woodruff marshalled his family into the drawing room, in a manner that Laura suspected owed much to habits on the parade ground. They were a fine-looking family, all of middle height. Sir Richard presented Mrs. Woodruff, who was plump and fussily dressed, and the colonel who carried his portliness rather well. He then introduced the three adult off-spring.
“My dear cousins, these are two of Colonel Woodruff’s daughters. This is Miss Woodruff …” He indicated the shorter of the two, a young lady of about five and twenty, and somewhat plain of feature. Her serene manner of greeting was pleasing to Laura. The ladies curtsied.
Edward said, with a courtly bow, “I am honoured to make your acquaintance, Miss Woodruff.”
“And this is Miss Evalina Woodruff.” All the freshness of eighteen years added to the attractions this young lady presented—a slender figure, just tall enough to display well her endowments, and glossy black curls clustering in front of her bonnet, spilling down beside her cheeks. A momentary shock registered in her eyes on first seeing the captain’s empty sleeve—he saw it and a shadow passed across his expression. As she was presented to him, she smiled, her sparkling grey eyes looking directly into his. He bowed, unsmiling, mumbling coolly, “A pleasure, Miss Woodruff.”
There only remained Mr. Jeremy Woodruff, aged little more than one and twenty, elegant and lounging. He put his glass to his eye and seemed vastly amused by the sight of his new acquaintances, until a subtle poke in the ribs from his mother produced a more sociable expression.
“Three younger children still occupy the schoolroom at Lewton Hall,” said Sir Richard.
Els
peth, who always adopted the position of hostess when at Oakmont, urged the guests to sit down and refresh themselves with cake, fruit and sweet wine.
After doing full justice to the refreshments, the colonel said, “Well, now, Sir Richard, you have promised us a tour of the gardens. Are you to be as good as your promise?”
Laura felt strangely watchful, merely an observer, as they assembled at the foot of the steps. Although Sir Richard had offered his arm to Miss Woodruff, somehow the place seemed to be usurped by her pretty sister.
The senior Woodruffs had aligned themselves on either side of Captain Morrison.
“I have wished to meet you, Captain, since reading of your heroism,” the colonel said.
“You will find the reality not up to my reputation, sir, for I am a dull fellow.”
“I’ll have none of that!”
“My papa will find you out to be a true English hero, Captain,” said Miss Evalina.
Edward looked at her, on the baronet’s arm, a smiling, dimpled and utterly charming young lady.
Sir Richard’s spaniel ran round and round his feet, yapping. “That’s enough, Spotty! Sit, sir!” Sir Richard ordered, wagging his finger without result. Miss Evalina bent down and smacked the dog on the nose—a soft, playful tap that had him on his haunches at once.
“You have a power of command, Miss Woodruff!” said Sir Richard.
“Ha! Ha!” laughed her father. “Evvy certainly does, at that!”
Miss Evalina spun on her heel, saying, “I have a love of mysteries, Sir Richard. I cannot rest until I see Oakmont’s famous Loyalist Hollow.”
“The Hollow is in the slope to the west side of the house.”
“A view of the flower gardens will content the older people,” said Mrs. Woodruff, patting Edward’s arm. Evalina looked significantly at her and mouthed “Mama!” but it seemed Mrs. Woodruff had made up her mind to look at the flower beds under the captain’s escort.
The Imaginary Gentleman Page 8
