The Ragged Heiress

by Dilly Court

  ‘I grew up here,’ Mary said, smiling. ‘I have many happy childhood memories of living in the country.’

  Sir Hector had been dozing for the last half an hour but he opened his eyes as the carriage slowed down. ‘I hope that Cook has improved on her culinary efforts since I was last here,’ he said, as they came to a halt outside the main entrance. ‘I’ve worked up quite an appetite since luncheon.’

  Lucetta stared out of the window at the square, three-storey house surrounded by a flagstone terrace and low balustrades. The warm glow of candlelight flickered in the downstairs windows and bats zoomed about overhead. Starlings swooped and dived in noisy formations as they came home to roost in the tops of the trees and beneath the eaves.

  As she alighted from the carriage Lucetta stood for a moment, breathing in the sweet country air, so different from the putrid odours that had descended upon London with the early summer heat. She could smell roses and honeysuckle, mingling with the aroma of new mown hay from the surrounding fields. The Portland stone exterior of the house was mellowed by encroaching ivy and a Palladian pediment framed the main entrance. The door had been flung open to reveal a square entrance hall that was more homely than grand. As she entered the house Lucetta had the feeling that she had stepped back in time. The wainscoted walls were hung with family portraits and generations of the Hastings family seemed to stare at her, their glassy eyes following her every move. She almost felt the need to curtsey to a high-nosed lady who peered at her over a ruff as big as a dinner plate, but she was brought back to the present by the sound of footsteps echoing off the flagstones. Phyllis appeared from the back of the house, adjusting her white mobcap as she ran towards them. She bobbed a curtsey to Sir Hector. ‘I’m all of a dither, sir. We’ve only just arrived ourselves and the men are still unloading the wagonette.’

  ‘That’s quite all right, Phyllis,’ Sir Hector said, handing her his top hat and gloves. ‘There’s no hurry.’ He glanced over his shoulder as a tall, gaunt-looking woman appeared from a corridor which Lucetta later discovered led to the servants’ quarters.

  ‘Good evening, Sir Hector. I hope you had a good journey.’

  ‘We did indeed, Mrs Comben,’ Sir Hector replied affably. ‘You are keeping in good health, I trust?’

  ‘Thank you, sir. Tolerably good considering the winter we’ve had, and the damp that rises from the river and gets into my bones. But here I am going on about my rheumatics and you’ll be wanting your dinner, I’m sure.’

  ‘Quite so, ma’am. We’re looking forward to sampling your excellent cooking. I hope it will be ready soon.’

  ‘And I too,’ Giles said, stepping forward to clasp Mrs Comben’s hand. ‘It’s good to see you again, Mrs Comben. You look a picture of health, quite blooming in fact.’

  Mrs Comben’s thin cheeks flooded with colour and a smile transformed her taut features. ‘Oh, sir, you are a one.’

  ‘Undoubtedly,’ Sir Hector said drily. ‘But we can’t stand about in the hall all evening. I’m sure that the ladies would like to refresh themselves after a long and dusty journey.’

  ‘Your rooms are ready, sir.’ Mrs Comben eyed Lucetta with a curious twitch of one eyebrow, but her expression softened as she turned to Mary. ‘I was sorry to hear you had been unwell, Miss Mary.’

  ‘I am quite recovered now, thank you, Mrs Comben.’ Mary held her hand out to Lucetta. ‘As you know, we have a house guest. This is my good friend, Miss Lucetta Froy.’

  Mrs Comben bobbed a curtsey. ‘Welcome to Stockton Lacey, miss. I’ve put you in the room next to Miss Mary. I hope it will suit.’

  ‘I’m sure it will, thank you,’ Lucetta murmured, but Mrs Comben had turned away and was heading towards the wide oak staircase.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Giles whispered, grinning. ‘She’s always like this with strangers, but she has a heart of pure brass beneath that steel exterior.’

  Mary raised her finger to her lips with a warning frown. ‘Hush, Giles, she’ll hear you. Come along, Lucetta. Let’s hope that Phyllis has had time to unpack our clothes. I want to change before dinner.’ Linking her arm through Lucetta’s, Mary led her up the shallow flight of stairs which curved round to a galleried landing. The oak floorboards glowed like warm honey in the candlelight and the air was redolent with the scent of beeswax and lavender.

  The door to the room at the top of the stairs had been left open and Lucetta could see Phyllis feverishly unpacking garments from Mary’s leather valise.

  ‘That is my room,’ Mary said happily. ‘You will be next door.’

  Mrs Comben threw the door open and stood aside. ‘I had a fire lit in both rooms. It’s not cold but there’s always that chill rising from the river.’ She shivered. ‘It gets into my bones.’

  ‘Yes, Mrs Comben,’ Mary said sympathetically. ‘I’ll ask my cousin to prescribe some medicine to ease your rheumatics. Giles is an excellent physician.’

  Mrs Comben sniffed, but her thin lips curved into a reluctant smile. ‘I’m sure he is, miss. Perhaps he could take a look at Cook’s bunions while he is here. She never stops complaining about them, but I suffer in silence.’

  ‘Of course you do.’ Mary patted her on the shoulder. ‘Please tell Cook that we’ll be ready to dine in half an hour.’ She waited until the light from the housekeeper’s candle had vanished into the darkness before turning to Lucetta with an apologetic smile. ‘Don’t take any notice of Mrs Comben. She’s all bark and no bite, but like many country folk she’s suspicious of strangers. It doesn’t mean anything.’

  Lucetta couldn’t help wondering if news of her sudden appearance in Lonsdale Square had filtered down to Dorset, and if it had she could hardly blame the housekeeper for being a little suspicious and over-protective of her young mistress.

  ‘It’s only natural,’ she murmured. ‘I expect the servants have told her all about me.’

  ‘It’s none of their business, Lucetta. I will have sharp words to say to them if I hear any unkind tittle-tattle and so will Papa.’

  Lucetta shook her head. ‘I’m sure it won’t come to that, and I love my room.’ She glanced around at the collection of country-style furnishings, none of which matched, but the eclectic mix had the effect of making the ambience homely and welcoming. A log fire burned brightly in the grate and the flickering light from candles placed on the dressing table and tallboy reflected off the highly polished surfaces of beech wood and burr walnut. The floral pattern of the wallpaper had faded but retained its original charm. The chintz curtains and soft cover on the chair by the fireplace did not match, but somehow it did not matter. Impulsively, Lucetta kissed Mary’s soft cheek. ‘I love it,’ she repeated. ‘I feel at home already.’

  Mary’s eyes lit with a warm smile. ‘I knew you would adore it here. This is my real home, although I do like the town house, but my heart will always be in the country.’ She moved swiftly to the door. ‘We’d best hurry and get changed for dinner. Papa doesn’t like to be kept waiting, as I’m sure you have realised.’ She left the room, closing the door behind.

  Lucetta eyed her dinner gown neatly laid out on the white coverlet. She knew she must change for dinner but curiosity overcame her and she went to the window to draw back the curtains. Despite the summer dusk, there was just enough light in the sky to reveal a sweep of lawn beyond the terrace, and the pale glimmer of a lake beneath weeping willows. She threw up the sash and she could smell the damp earth and hear the tinkling of water as the stream rippled over a bed of stones. She was so used to the constant noise of the city that the sounds of the countryside were strange to her ears and slightly eerie. The hoot of a barn owl hunting, the distant bark of a dog fox and the rustling of the leaves as a breeze caressed the trees were a far cry from the drum of horses’ hooves and the incessant rumble of cart wheels.

  Reluctantly Lucetta closed the window and went to change her clothes. The Dorset countryside was quite different from the exotic shores of Bali, but on a night like this she found it easy to recall her last clan
destine tryst with Sam. Where was he now? Was he thinking of her, or had he buried their love beneath the cold English soil with her supposed corpse? She sighed as she undid the buttons on her blouse and skirt, allowing the soiled garments to fall to the floor. There was only one way to find out. She must persuade Sir Hector to allow her to continue her journey to Devonshire. She made her mind up to broach the subject first thing in the morning when they were alone in his study.

  But her plans were doomed to go astray as next morning at breakfast Sir Hector announced that he would be out for the entire day and Lucetta was to enjoy a well-earned rest after their long journey. Mary was openly delighted and began planning a list of local sights to show her. Giles offered to drive them in the dog cart as Sir Hector intended to do the rounds of his constituency in the landau, and Phyllis was despatched to the kitchen to ask Cook to prepare a picnic lunch. Lucetta told herself that another day’s delay would make little difference and she hid her disappointment, not wanting to spoil Mary’s enthusiasm for their outing.

  They set off in the dog cart shortly after breakfast. Giles, looking the part of a country squire in tweeds and riding boots, handled the reins with relaxed expertise and Mary insisted that Lucetta took the seat beside him while she sat in the back with the picnic hamper. It was a bright sunny day with just a hint of crispness in the air and the promise of heat when the sun was high in the sky. The hedgerows sparkled with dew as they tooled along the country lane, past thatched cottages and open fields where cattle and sheep grazed contentedly on the fresh green grass.

  ‘It looks so perfect,’ Lucetta said dreamily. ‘Like the watercolour paintings of rural life.’

  ‘It may look picturesque,’ Giles said, shaking his head, ‘but there is as much poverty in the country as there is in the cities. It just looks prettier here.’

  ‘Yes,’ Mary added, leaning over the back of the seat. ‘Farm workers’ wages are disgustingly low and the farmers themselves have been struggling since the land enclosures. Papa will hear many tales of bankruptcy and hardship today, but I daresay he will tell you all about it when you do his correspondence tomorrow.’

  Lucetta opened her mouth to tell them that she intended to ask for time off so that she could make the journey to Devonshire, but Giles had drawn the pony to a halt outside a small thatched cottage a few hundred yards upriver from the mill house which they had just passed.

  ‘You must have a wish, Lucetta,’ he said, pulling on the brake and securing the reins as he leapt off the driver’s seat.

  ‘A wish?’ Lucetta turned her head to give Mary a puzzled glance.

  ‘It’s the wishing well,’ Mary explained. ‘The old lady who lives in the cottage serves tea and cakes which she bakes herself and there is a wishing well down by the river’s edge. You must throw in a coin and make a wish.’

  Giles had come round to Lucetta’s side of the trap, and he held out his hand. ‘It’s quite famous. You must wish but you mustn’t tell or it won’t come true.’ He helped her down from the cart, holding on to her hand just a little longer than necessary and smiling into her eyes with a look that she knew would have warmed the hardest heart. Hers was at this moment as soft as whipped cream.

  The moment passed in an instant as Giles released her hand and went round to help Mary alight from the back of the trap. Lucetta watched them together, thinking what a handsome pair they made and what beautiful dark-haired, dark-eyed children they might produce if they were to marry. She wondered why Giles, who was such an intelligent, caring man, could not see that Mary absolutely adored him, and she would make him the most devoted and loving of wives. But he seemed totally oblivious to the silent messages she was sending him. Lucetta wanted to give him a good shake and force him to see Mary with different eyes.

  ‘Come along,’ he said affably. ‘Don’t stand there day-dreaming, Lucetta. You won’t get your wish by doing nothing.’

  ‘No, indeed,’ Mary said, tucking her hand in the crook of his arm. ‘I think I know what Lucetta might wish for, but it’s our secret.’

  ‘I know what my heart’s desire is, and I shan’t tell either of you. That is my secret.’

  They walked arm in arm through a wicket gate and down a pathway lined with pink and white hollyhocks to the thatched porch where an old lady sat with a tin cup at her side containing just a few pennies.

  ‘Welcome to the wishing well,’ she said with a gummy grin. ‘Shall you take tea and some of my scones, sir? I’ve just took a fresh batch out of the oven, and there’s strawberry jam made with berries from my own garden.’

  ‘That sounds wonderful, mother,’ Giles said, throwing a silver sixpence into her can. ‘Maybe you have some fresh cream too?’

  With surprising agility the old woman rose to her feet. ‘I’ll see what I can do for you and the maidies, sir.’

  As Giles led them round to the back of the cottage into a well-stocked garden, Mary pulled a face at Lucetta. ‘His charm works every time,’ she whispered, giggling. ‘Giles has a way with women from the age of seven to seventy.’

  ‘Naturally,’ Giles said airily. ‘I am particularly successful with martinets like Sister Demarest.’ He stopped walking as they reached the river’s edge where a crudely made stone well had been erected.

  Lucetta leaned over the side, looking down into the clear, shallow water. Nestling on the smooth round pebbles some coppers glinted in the sunlight.

  ‘Be careful,’ Giles warned. ‘The stones are slippery. You might fall in.’

  Just as Lucetta was about to tell him that she was perfectly safe, her leather-soled shoes lost their grip on the wet moss and she would have toppled in had Giles not caught her round the waist. His arms tightened around her and she could feel the warmth of his body as he held her close to his chest. He released her with a sudden movement that caused her stumble and clutch the side of the well for support. The brief moment of physical contact had made her pulses race, and she could feel her cheeks reddening. She glanced anxiously at Mary but she didn’t seem to have noticed anything untoward.

  ‘That was a near thing,’ Mary said, smiling. ‘You wouldn’t have drowned had you fallen in the water, but you might have caught a chill. There is always a cool breeze blowing down by the river.’

  Giles thrust his hand in his pocket and took out a handful of change, which he pressed into Mary’s outstretched hand. ‘Here, make your wishes and I’ll go and see what has happened to the tea,’ he said abruptly.

  Lucetta watched him striding up the garden path and her heart was heavy inside her breast. She knew that she must go to Devon as soon as possible. To delay any longer would bring disaster on them all.

  Chapter Fifteen

  ‘But I need you here, Lucetta,’ Sir Hector said, frowning as he wiped his lips on his table napkin. ‘We have much work to do.’

  ‘And I will do it when I return from Salcombe, sir.’

  Sir Hector did not look convinced. ‘And when will that be? How long do you propose to be away?’

  Lucetta shot a glance beneath her lashes at Giles, who had stopped eating his dinner and was staring down at his plate. She turned to Mary who gave her an encouraging smile.

  ‘I don’t know, sir. A day or two, I should think. I can catch the train at the nearest railway station, or get the mail coach.’

  ‘Both of which will take the best part of a day by the time you have changed trains or the mail coach has stopped for fresh horses,’ Giles said, looking up with a set expression on his face. ‘It’s not a good idea for a young woman to travel unaccompanied.’

  ‘Indeed not,’ Sir Hector said firmly. ‘I wouldn’t allow Mary to traipse around the country on her own.’

  ‘I could go with her, Papa,’ Mary volunteered eagerly.

  ‘Out of the question,’ Sir Hector replied, pushing his dinner plate away. ‘Really, you modern young women have no sense of decorum, or danger if it comes to that.’

  ‘Please, Sir Hector,’ Lucetta said, rising from the table. ‘Please reconsider
. You knew that it was my intention to seek out my fiancé. I told you that at the outset.’

  ‘Yes, but I had not thought you would leave until I had finished my business in Dorset. It was always my intention that I should accompany you, but that is impossible at the moment.’ Sir Hector stared at her with a perplexed frown. ‘Please sit down and finish your meal. There are people not so fortunate as ourselves who are starving; I cannot bear to see good food go to waste.’

  Reluctantly, Lucetta sat down and picked up her knife and fork, but she only pushed the roast meat around her plate. She knew she could not swallow another morsel.

  ‘I will take Lucetta to Devonshire,’ Giles said, breaking the silence. ‘She will be safe with me.’

  Lucetta raised her eyes to meet his and she was about to refuse his offer but Mary spoke first.

  ‘That’s a splendid idea, Giles. And I will come too if Papa will let me. We will be a merry party if we go together.’ She turned to her father with a persuasive smile. ‘May I, Papa? May I go with Giles and Lucetta? We won’t be away for long, I promise you.’

  Sir Hector looked from one to the other and Lucetta held her breath. The last thing she wanted was for Giles to accompany her on this particular journey, but if there was no other way she could hardly refuse.

  ‘Go on, Papa,’ Mary urged. ‘Do say yes. I’ve never been to Devon and I’m sure that the sea air will be good for me.’

  ‘Very well, I suppose I must honour my promise to Lucetta, but you must not be gone for more than a week. I insist on that.’

  Lucetta breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Thank you, sir,’ she murmured. ‘If it’s all the same to you, I would like to go tomorrow.’

  Despite his initial reluctance, Sir Hector relented so far as to insist that they travelled in the landau. He could not, he said, allow Mary to undertake the journey in any way that might jeopardise her continued recovery, and he could manage very well with the dog cart or make the rounds of his constituency on horseback.