Miss Winbolt and the Fortune Hunter

by Sylvia Andrew

  Rosa’s invitation to the Deardons threw Emily into a panic. She realised that she would sooner or later have to meet William Ashenden again, but this seemed altogether too soon. During the intervening week she at tempted to find a dozen reasons why she should not be present, but her sister-in-law frustrated them all. Rosa thoroughly approved of William Ashenden and knew Philip liked him, too. This was enough to persuade her that this was indeed ‘just the man’ to be Emily’s salvation and she was determined to promote the acquaintance. She genuinely could not under stand why Emily didn’t agree, and was convinced that once her sister-in-law got to know Sir William better she would acknowledge that Rosa was right. She was disappointed, there fore, when Emily appeared just before Lady Deardon and Sir William were due to arrive.

  ‘Emily! You have so many pretty summer dresses! Why on earth are you wearing that one?’

  ‘What’s wrong with it?’

  ‘It’s…it’s so dull. And surely you’d be cooler in one that didn’t fasten right up to the neck? Why didn’t you wear your new pale green muslin? It’s so pretty, and the colour suits you perfectly.’

  ‘I’ve decided that it is cut too low, Rosa. I prefer this one.’

  Rosa was not finished. ‘And what have you done to your hair?’ she exclaimed. ‘It’s more suited for a walk through a cloister than a summer afternoon in the garden!’

  Emily, who had taken pains to make herself as unlike the girl who had fallen out of that tree as possible, was pleased, but did her best to sound offended. ‘I’m sorry you don’t like the way I look,’ she said. In fact, she agreed with Rosa’s every word. Her dress was plain, in an unflattering shade of grey, and fastened up to the top. Much to her maid’s distress, she had insisted on having her hair pulled back and twisted into a low, tight knot at the back of her neck. Fashionably thin sandals, her usual wear in summer, had been replaced with boots. Emily had decided not to give in without a fight. She would deceive William Ashenden for as long as she could, until she could decide how to deal with him. She heard the sound of a carriage drawing up at the door. ‘But I’m afraid it’s too late to change my dress now,’ she said, doing her best to put a note of regret into her voice.

  Philip and Rosa made their guests welcome, then led them into the garden. All five walked about in it for an hour or more, Emily using considerable ingenuity to avoid William’s company. When Rosa suggested they should sit in the shade for a while Lady Deardon accepted with pleasure, and the party made its way to a cool arbour, which had been furnished with a table, chairs and one or two benches. Here they sat down—all of them except Sir William.

  ‘You said something about an avenue of trees planted by your great-grandfather, I believe, Winbolt? I’d like to see them. Perhaps Miss Winbolt could show me the way and tell me about them?’

  ‘What a good idea,’ exclaimed Rosa. ‘She knows almost as much about the grounds as my husband, Sir William. I’m sure she would be de lighted to be your guide. And you must ask her to show you the maze. The Shearings maze was once quite famous, but it was in a sad state before Philip and Emily restored it, along with the rest of the gardens.

  ‘A maze? That sounds very interesting. Miss Winbolt?’ He held out his arm.

  Emily stared at him hopelessly. ‘I…I don’t think…’ she began and then stopped. She couldn’t come up with a single reason why she should refuse to go with him, except that she didn’t want to!

  ‘I do hope you can oblige him, Miss Winbolt,’ said Lady Deardon. ‘A large number of the trees at Charlwood are old and decayed, and will have to be replaced. William is becoming quite an expert on the subject. He has already inspected the plantations at Thirle. I’m sure he will find your avenue very interesting.’

  Emily smiled weakly and took his arm. Sir William’s request was harmless enough. To persist in refusing, especially after his godmother’s encouraging words, would seem ungracious, and might well make him suspicious. But go into the maze with him she would not!

  Once they were out of sight of the arbour Sir William stopped and asked, ‘Is something up set ting you, ma’am? The sun, perhaps? Or are you tired? We could easily sit some where and talk, if you would prefer it.’

  ‘No!’ exclaimed Emily with more vigour than politeness. Her com pan ion raised one eyebrow and regarded her with surprise. But she could have sworn there was more than a touch of laughter in his eyes.

  ‘I mean…I like w-walking,’ she stammered. She took a breath. This would never do. If she was to impress this man with the contrast between the gipsy in the hollow and Miss Emily Winbolt, she should watch her responses! They walked on in silence while Emily tried frantically to think of something to say. After a while she said with commendable calm, ‘My sister-in-law tells me you were in the Navy. Have you seen much action?’

  ‘When I first joined, yes. But the Navy is no place for a man in peace time, Miss Winbolt. So I took the…bull by the horns and sold out.’ Emily was startled. She almost stumbled. Had he meant anything by that pause in front of ‘bull’? She stole a glance at him but he looked un concerned, and she was reassured as he went on, ‘I was in the West Indies at the time, so I went off to explore South America.’

  ‘How interesting. Where did you go? Brazil?’ To her relief the conversation that followed as they walked through the grounds was very conventional, mostly about his impressions of Mexico and Brazil. Emily began to relax.

  But then he said, ‘But we’ve talked enough about me. These trees are truly splendid specimens. Are they oaks?’

  ‘Oaks? N…no! They are lime trees, I believe. There are one or two oaks scattered about the grounds, but they’ve been used as specimen trees.’

  ‘I saw a splendid old oak the other day. But sadly, it had lost one of its major branches.’

  ‘Oh?’

  Sir William laughed. ‘In fact, I met one of your brother’s men there. A Will Darby. Do you know him?’

  He knows, thought Emily. I’m sure he knows. But she sup pressed any hint of fear and said calmly, ‘Of course I know him. He’s one of the grooms. Have you seen enough of the trees, sir? I think I’ve shown you the best of them.’

  ‘He warned me about a dangerous bull that was kept in the field where the oak grew.’

  Emily put on a puzzled frown, then said, ‘Ah, yes! I think I know the one you mean. That would be Farmer Pritchard’s bull. Black Samson. Shall we turn back now?’

  They turned and started to walk back towards the gate to the gardens. But her tormentor was not to be put off. ‘Of course I already knew about the bull,’ he went on. ‘I had seen it before when I was last in Stoke Shearings.’

  This time the twinkle in his eye was even more marked. Was he playing some sort of cat-and-mouse game with her? Emily felt a spurt of anger. She was not about to weaken. She must keep her head and marshal her wits.

  ‘You’ve been here before? I can’t remember meeting you…?’

  He went on, ‘I had a walk along the stream through the valley when I was last here, too. It’s a beautiful spot. You know it?’

  Emily nodded.

  ‘Very steep sides to it, of course. I would have called on your brother, while I was staying in the village, but lost my way during the day, and…’ Emily stiffened. He shook his head and went on apologetically, ‘With one thing and another, by the time I got back to the inn it was too late.’

  ‘Really?’ she said with admirable in difference.

  Her adversary was not deterred. He said, ‘I wish I had made the time now.’

  The meaning was plain and she decided that this was the moment to stall him. ‘I am sure my brother would have made you very welcome, Sir William,’ she said primly. ‘So would my sister-in-law.’

  ‘And you?’

  She gave him a smile full of in sincere regret. ‘Alas, I was not here at the time. I…I was with my g-grandfather in London.’ She shouldn’t have added that last bit. She had stammered. Rosa had always said that she wasn’t a good liar.

  The silence
grew. ‘Now that does surprise me,’ he said at last.

  ‘Why?’ Emily asked with a touch of belligerence.

  ‘Because…’ He regarded her with amusement as she lifted her chin. Then he went on, ‘Because London would have been so crowded at that time of year. The middle of June, wasn’t it?’

  ‘No, the middle of May.’

  ‘Oh, yes. So it was. How did you know?’

  ‘How should I not know when I pay visits to my grandfather, Sir William?’

  ‘Quite! But how did you know that it was May when I was in the district?’

  They had reached the gate at the end of the trees. Emily had never been so thankful in her life to reach a simple gate. ‘My sister-in-law will be wondering where we are,’ she said and hurried through, deliberately letting the heavy gate swing to behind her. It must have hurt when it hit him, but apart from a swiftly drawn breath he gave no sign, and soon caught up with her again. They were just by the entrance to the maze and she at tempted to hurry past. He took her arm and stopped her flight.

  ‘But, Miss Winbolt! Isn’t this the entrance to the famous Shearings maze? You can’t have for got ten that Mrs Winbolt particularly wished me to see it. She would surely be disappointed if I said I hadn’t even ventured inside. Shall we go in?’

  ‘Oh, but I…’ Without quite knowing how he did it, Emily found herself being led into the maze, where they were soon surrounded by a high wall of hedges. But, she thought grimly, if Sir William Ashenden thought she was about to wander idly through the maze with him, he would find he was mistaken. The situation was far too dangerous for her peace of mind. She knew the maze inside out and had every intention of losing him as soon as she could. Within minutes she had taken a swift turn to the right, then another, then hurried along to the left. Slightly out of breath, she stopped and looked round. There was no sign of him. She waited a moment or two, then, smiling with satisfaction, she turned a corner to make her way out. Sir William was there, sitting on a bench that had been placed to rest the weary at the centre of the maze.

  ‘There you are,’ he said genially. ‘Where did you get to? I’ve been waiting for you.’

  He patted the seat beside him and Emily, whose knees had gone weak, sat down. What else could she do? ‘Now,’ he said, ‘where were we? Oh, yes, of course! How you knew I was in Stoke Shearings in May. I’ll tell you how it must have happened, shall I? It’s very simple. The people at the inn told Will Darby, and Will Darby told you!’

  Emily stared at him blankly. What had they been talking about? Then she said, ‘Yes. Yes, of course. That must have been it.’

  ‘A curious coincidence, that.’

  Against her better judgement Emily asked, ‘What is?’

  ‘That he and I have the same name—though I am usually called William. Only in exceptional circumstances does anyone call me Will.’ He paused. ‘Very exceptional. One might almost say intimate circumstances.’

  Emily rose to her feet in some agitation. ‘I…I should like to join the others. They will surely be wondering where we are.’

  ‘They know where we are,’ he said firmly. He led her back to the bench and sat her gently down again. ‘We can talk a few minutes longer.’

  ‘But I don’t wish to talk to you!’ cried Emily in desperation.

  ‘I think you do,’ said Sir William softly. ‘I think you must.’

  ‘What do you mean by that, sir?’

  ‘Come, Miss Winbolt. Why do you think I’ve taken such pains to speak to you alone? I admire your spirit, but you can’t keep it up for ever, you know. Why don’t you admit it?’

  ‘Admit what? I don’t know what you’re talking about—’

  ‘Yes, you do, dear Miss Winbolt.’ He held her eye and repeated the question. ‘Why don’t you admit it? Why don’t you take our famous bull by the horns and ask me if I have recognised you?’

  ‘Recognised me? What do you mean?’ she demanded defiantly. ‘How could you have recognised me? I don’t remember ever having met you before Lady Langley’s ball.’

  ‘Well now, that surprises me—that you have for gotten our first meeting, I mean. I have found the experience quite impossible to forget. Those legs dangling so enticingly from the oak tree, the sensations as we rolled down that bank clasped in each other’s arms, your delightful response to my kisses…’

  ‘Stop! Stop!’ Emily cried. She jumped up in a panic, her hands to her ears, and made to run away. He caught one of her hands and pulled her back.

  ‘Admit it,’ he said softly.

  ‘Very well!’ she cried. ‘I admit it, I admit it! Does that satisfy you? And what are you planning to do, now that I have confessed? It must give you a great deal of satisfaction to know that you could ruin me with a few sentences. I dare say you think it would make a fine story for the gossips.’

  ‘That’s very true. Were they ever to hear it.’

  Emily hid her face in her hands. ‘I can’t bear it,’ she said.

  ‘Don’t look like that, Miss Winbolt! There’s no danger of it, I assure you! It will remain our secret.’

  She looked at him, not sure whether to believe him or not, but the blue eyes were sincere. There was a short silence then she whispered, ‘How can I trust you?’

  ‘I suppose you’ll have to take my word for it. I’m no monster. I don’t believe in destroying reputations for pleasure. Of course, I don’t under stand why you behaved as you did—’

  ‘How could you? I don’t under stand that myself!’ cried Emily in despair again. ‘I still don’t. But why did you tease me so?’

  ‘I must confess the temptation was irresistible. I had heard so much about the respectable Miss Winbolt, so cool to would-be suitors, you see. And then, afterwards—it was all so ridiculously unlikely. I was en chanted by the situation. Will you forgive me?’ He smiled at her, the tiny fan of wrinkles appearing at the corners of those dark blue eyes. Emily stared at him, bemused, and the smile disappeared. He leaned forward slowly and kissed her.

  ‘No! You mustn’t!’ She stared at him in shock, then turned away, her face hidden in her hands again. ‘I’m so ashamed,’ she whispered, ‘So ashamed that you should believe you can…can…’ She shook her head. ‘What must you think of me?’

  He took her hands in his and drew them away from her face. His expression was quite serious. ‘I don’t know what to think of you. Which is the real Emily Winbolt? The wild enchantress in the hollow, or the cool, level-headed Miss Winbolt? How can both of you exist in the same body? And why do you have such a strange effect on me? There are so many questions. Believe me, I think you are the most intriguing woman I have met in a long time.’

  She snatched her hands back. ‘No!’ she cried. ‘I won’t allow you to kiss me and say things like that. I am not any kind of enchantress! I was not myself when we met before, I don’t know what came over me! If you think you can tease and torment me, say what you like to me, kiss me, because of what happened, well, you can’t. I won’t have it. I have never before behaved like that, and I never will again.’ She took a deep breath, then lifted her chin and gave him a chilly look. ‘And now I wish to go back to the others, if you please.’

  He regarded her for a moment, laughter back in his eyes. ‘You disappoint me.’ He smiled. ‘Though I suppose I should really be grateful to you—life was becoming a little dull before I met you. Now I have an additional interest.’

  ‘And that is?’ said Emily, not altogether sure she wanted his answer.

  ‘Why, to find the real Emily Winbolt, of course!’

  ‘I’ve already told you, sir. The real Emily Winbolt is what you see before you. Philip Winbolt’s un married sister, a respectable and respected lady. There is nothing of that gipsy in her. What happened in May was a momentary madness, an aberration. It will not be repeated.’

  He stood back and surveyed her dress and hair. ‘Looking at you now, I can believe it. Did you have to try so hard to put me off the scent with your drab, nun-like appearance? It was a wasted effort, I a
ssure you. That girl is still there, Emily Winbolt, however hard you try to suppress her. It may be that I am the only one to have had the privilege of meeting her, but she is there!’

  His determined tone frightened her. The effect he had had on her on that hillside was something she had never before experienced. She hadn’t under stood it at the time and she didn’t under stand it now. But she wanted no part of it ever again. It was too powerful, too all-consuming. The very thought of it made her tremble. Emily forced herself to be calm as she said, ‘Sir William. Since we are apparently to be near neighbours, and my brother and his wife seem to approve of you, I suppose I shall have to put up with your company. But that is all.’ Her voice rose. ‘However low your opinion of me may be, I am not here as an object for your amusement, to be spoken to as you please!’ She turned away from him, struggling to hide how close to tears she was.

  He watched her for a moment, then turned her back again and put his hands on her shoulders. ‘Forgive me,’ he said remorsefully. ‘I never meant to upset you. But this situation… Shall we make a bargain?’

  Emily looked at him apprehensively, wondering what he was about to suggest. Was it another trick? But he shook his head at her expression and said softly,

  ‘You may trust me. I cannot forget the girl I met that day in May, and still hope to meet her again, whatever you say. But I shall respect your wish to ignore our first meeting. And, as far as the rest of the world is concerned, we met for the first time at the Langleys’ ball. Can we not get to know each other as ordinary neighbours? Meet and talk as two people newly introduced? The battle between us may continue in private, Emily, but you need not fear I shall embarrass or tease you again with memories of past behaviour. Agreed?’