by Lucy Gillen
CHAPTER TEN
CHARLOTTE did not quite know how she managed to stay at least outwardly cheerful until she got back to Blanestock, but as soon as the old house came into sight at the top of the drive she felt herself weakening. The irresistible urge to cry her heart out be- . came too much for her, even though she knew the taxi driver was watching, her curiously while she paid him her fare. He was probably drawing all the wrong conclusions, but she was uncaring what he or anyone else thought by now. The tears just would not be resisted any longer and she did not wait for him to & thank her for the over-generous tip before she ran up the front steps to the door. She inserted the key in the lock and was immediately reminded of other, happier times when she had done just this same thing, when she had come to Blanestock for the first time as its proud new owner, foreseeing a rosy future stretching before her, and revelling in the extravagance of a taxi. Again when she had visited the safari park with Scott and she had been so angry when they arrived home that her hands would not stay steady enough 176 for her to insert the key. Scott had taken it from her and laughed at her as he so often did, so that she had hurled that beautiful little china lion he had bought her into the shrubbery. She had been at Blanestock such a little time, but she had made herself so many memories in those few short weeks that the idea of leaving it was unbearable. By the time she reached the hall and took off her coat and gloves she was crying uncontrollably and she knew that the threatened storm was about to break at last. An amazed Mrs. Borden watched in surprise when she dashed past her and straight on up the stairs to her room, with only a shaking head to answer her question about dinner. Basic needs like . food were furthest from her mind at the moment. Once in her own room Charlotte threw herself across the bed and gave herself up to the emotional upheaval that had been threatening her all morning. She wept without restraint for a very long time 'until she could cry no more and fell into a half sleep that was sheer exhaustion. I, There was nothing she could do to change things it would be back to office routine for her as quickly .as possible, for she had no more now than when she had arrived, she thought. A great shuddering sigh gran through her when she thought of the many plans she had had for Blanestock and its gardens. had looked so far ahead, visualising how grand t would look by next summer, and now it would come to nothing. t-' 177 Blanestock itself would be looked after, of course, Scott would see to that, and it was her one consolation in an otherwise wretched outlook. Then the irony of it struck her suddenly so that she almost smiled, despite her unhappiness, as she lay there stretched across the width of the bed, her chin-resting on her folded arms. To think how she had so staunchly resisted all Scott's attempts to buy Blanestock from her, and now she was thanking heaven that it was his and not someone else's. She had no idea how long she had lain there, she was too abjectly miserable to care about time, but she suddenly became aware of footsteps on the landing outside her room, followed a few seconds later by a soft, hesitant tapping on the door itself. 'Miss Brown?' Charlotte pulled herself upright and looked at her watch, realising she had been there for much longer than it seemed. She rubbed the last vestiges of tears from her cheeks and brushed down her crumpled dress, hoping her eyes were not too redrimmed. 'Yes, Mrs. Borden? Come in!' The housekeeper looked anxious, an expression Charlotte would not have believed her capable of only a short time ago. 'I was wondering about dinner, Miss Brown,' she said, and looked as if she would like to have said more, but years of training had taught her not to become too personal with her employer. Charlotte gave a long, sobbing sigh that was quite 178 beyond her control. 'I, I don't think I'm very interested in dinner, Mrs. Borden,' she told her, and the housekeeper looked at her curiously. 'Aren't you dining in, ma'am?' Charlotte nodded. 'Oh yes, I'll be in, but I don't think I want any dinner, not tonight.' The housekeeper hesitated, obviously with something on her mind, then she raised her brows resignedly and. made as if to leave again. Apparently second thoughts decided her, however, and she did not even close the door but came back into the room again. 'I don't wish to appear forward. Miss Brown,' she said slowly and carefully, as if she was acting out of character. 'But I can't help noticing you're obviously very upset and I wondered ' She hesitated, her usually stern features relaxed into anxiety. 'Forgive ' me if I speak out of turn, but if I may say so, ma'am, you seem as if you need to talk to someone.' Charlotte blessed her for her understanding. 'I think I do,' she confessed, and got to her feet, walking over to look at her reflection in the dressing. table mirror. It was not an encouraging sight and she sighed again. Her eyes were swollen-and redrimmed and her cheeks puffy from weeping. Even ' her hair was untidy where she had been lying on the bed, and altogether she could understand the housekeeper's concern. 'I do look a mess, don't I?' she said. 'You look very unhappy,' Mrs. Borden opined. 'I am.' She felt another threat of tears now that ' 179 she was faced with the prospect of putting it all into words for Mrs. Borden's benefit, and she bit her lip anxiously, unwilling to indulge in another bout of weeping. 'Please allow me to be of service,' Mrs. Borden offered again, and-Charlotte was convinced that it was not mere curiosity that prompted the offer. She rolled her handkerchief into a damp ball and held it tightly in her hands as she walked across to the window where she could look out at the breath taking and awe-inspiring view. 'I've lost Blanestock,' she said flatly, seeing no other way of putting it. 'Oh no. Miss Brown I' ' She turned and looked at the woman, knowing her regret was genuine and appreciating her sympathy, even if it did threaten her self-control. 'I'm afraid it's true,' she told her. 'That's why I had to see Mr. Chartres this morning.' 'I didn't realise,' Mrs. Borden said, "and I'm very sorry to hear it, Miss Brown.' Charlotte laughed shortly. 'I suppose it's a classic case of counting chickens,' she said bitterly. iT was Mr. Blackwell's heir only because I was his only living relative, but there turned out to be a will after all, and Great-Uncle Ezra had never heard of me.' She was assuming that Mrs. Borden was familiar with the circumstances of her inheritance, for there was little went on in country houses that was not known to the staff of them. 'I'm very sorry about it, ma'am,' she said. 'I really am.' , 180' Charlotte turned again to look out at that magnificent, view that would soon be no longer available to her. 'The worst part of it is,' she told the housekeeper, 'I was the one who found the wretched will when I was down in the cellar.' Mrs. Borden blinked for a moment as if something had just occurred to her. 'Did you have it in your pocket, ma'am?' she asked, and Charlotte turned again and looked at her curiously. 'Yes, I did. Why?' It was. Mrs. Borden's turn to sigh and she shook her head in regret for lost opportunities. 'I saw it fall out of your pocket when Mr. Lingrove picked you up to carry you upstairs,' she said. 'If only I'd realised what it was I' Charlotte smiled ruefully. 'It wouldn't have made any difference, Mrs. Borden, you'd have been bound to hand it over eventually, wouldn't you?' 'I'm not so sure,' Mrs. Borden averred firmly. 'As it was, Mr. Chartres had it in his hand before I could reach it, and I never gave it another thought until now.' Neither did No-el Chartres, apparently,' Charlotte told her ruefully. 'He found it in his pocket at the weekend, and showed it to his father.' The housekeeper looked at her, shaking her head. 'I don't know what to suggest, Miss Brown,' she said. 'I suppose there's no arguing with the law, : is there?.' 'There isn't,' Charlotte agreed, and sighed again. 'Oh, well, it was grand being a country landowner . 181 while it lasted.' ' 'Mr. Lingrove ' Mrs. Borden ventured, and Charlotte shook her head firmly. 'Mr. Lingrove can do nothing about anything, Mrs. Borden, it's all over.' Charlotte was very uncertain whether or not she was disappointed that Scott did not come over the following day. She would like to have seen him, she frankly admitted, in fact she could have cried on his shoulder, but with him being the cause of her unhappiness, however unwittingly, it would have made things very awkward. She walked in the gardens during the morning, and sat in the sitting-room all afternoon, knowing that soon she must do something about moving out, but wanting to stay until the very last moment. Dinner was a gloomy, solitary meal and she felt restless and tearful again
faced with a solitary evening too. Tm going for a walk,' she told Mrs. Borden after an hour or so of moping about, and the housekeeper shook her head but said nothing to discourage her. It was a cold night, but clear and bright with the moon about three-quarters full and the stars so brilliant they must surely forecast a frost. She walked along the road where she had walked with Noel, and where she had shown Scott the old tree that looked like a handful of stars. A wry smile curved her soft mouth as she thought of it. She had held a handful of stars for a whilebut 182 now all she had were a few memories, not fully appreciated until now. She looked up as she got further along the road, where it rose sharply with the rocky sweep of the peaks, and saw the old tree again with its fingers spread, black and stark and holding a scatter of stars like a handful of diamonds. It was a romantic notion and she remembered how much more appreciative of it Scott had been than Noel. He had wished and encouraged her to, though hers had done her little good as it worked out. She would never be able to live at Blanestock for ever and ever now. She was crying again, she realised when she could see the road only through a haze of tears that rolled down her cheeks and gave them a stiff, icy feeling in the cold wind. Never in her whole life had she cried so much as she had the past couple of days and it could do no good at all. Impatiently she brushed a gloved hand across her eyes and swallowed hard, then a moment later turned her head sharply when she thought she heard a car coming along behind her. There were no street lights here and no way for a driver to see her until she was picked up in his headlights. The sound died away, however, and she thought no more of that, but there were other footsteps crunching along the road behind her and she looked back over her shoulder, wary suddenly and uneasy. She had never met anyone else along here before, -not on foot anyway, and it made her heart thud warningly under her ribs as she paused, wondering I which way was best to go. The cause of the disturbance came into view round the bend in the road at that moment, however, and she heard her own breath expelled in re-lief when she recognised him. The long easy stride and the light-coloured hair were unmistakable and she stood there with her hands clasped tightly to-gether, waiting for him to come up to her. He called out no greeting nor even smiled, but came right up to her and took her arm, bringing her to a halt and looking down at her for a long moment, the hazel eyes without identifiable colour in the moonlight. 'The Duchess said you'd come out for a walk,' he told her then, without preliminaries, and he glanced up at the old tree. 'Have you come to renew your wish?' She was near to breaking point and his gentle jibe was almost too much for her. 'It won't do me much good,' she told him in a tight little voice that she scarcely recognised as her own. He still held her arm and his fingers curled tightly. 'You have to believe in it before it comes true,' he told her solemnly, and Charlotte bit her lip. 'Oh, Scott, don't! You know I've lost Blanestock, don't you?' He nodded. 'I saw Philip Chartres this morning. I also saw that weak-kneed son of his too and told him what I thought of him.' Charlotte gazed up at him, seeing the stern set of 184 his mouth and jaw through a haze of tears. 'You didn't!' 'Indeed I did,' he assured her, 'When I learned about the will and that you'd been disinherited I expected, him' to be out here consoling you, but no his lordship was no longer interested, I gathered.' She shook her head, hiding her eyes with a long sweep of lashes. 'I wasn't really I mean I__' 'I know you weren't in love with him,' Scott told her confidently. 'But he was supposed to be a friend, and he let you down when you needed him most. That's a pretty poor sort of friend, and I told him so.' Charlotte had a sudden and almost irresistible desire to giggle, despite her tears. It was not difficult at all to visualise the scene between them, or Noel's shamefaced admission, and she was suddenly lighter-hearted, even though nothing had really changed. Nothing ever-seemed so insurmountable once Scott had cast his optimistic eye over it. 'Poor Noel,' she said softly, only too ready to. forgive him now. 'He really wanted to marry a wealthy heiress, but I don't think I'd have ever married him.' 'I'm damned sure you wouldn't,' Scott assured her. 'For one thing, bigamy's still illegal, in this country, despite the permissive society.' She glanced up at him through her lashes, trying desperately to do something about the way her heart was skittering wildly and making her feel quite in credibly light-headed. 'I've already told you I 185 wouldn't marry you she told him, wondering at her own provocativeness, and he laughed softly. 'It's your only chance of getting Blanestock back.' She said nothing for a while, and they stood there on the winding moonlit road like two shadows, quiet and unmoving. 'Don't tease me about Blanestock,' she told him at last, a husky sound to her voice. 'Please don't, Scott. I love it, and I've cried for hours since old Chartres told me it wasn't mine anymore.' 'Poor Charlie Brown!' His voice was soft and his lips brushed gently across her eyelids. 'The Duchess told me how you'd been crying.' She looked up at him, suspicious suddenly. 'Mrs. Borden told you?' He nodded. 'I called at the house and you weren't there. The old girl was in quite a state about you, seemed to think you might do something drastic.' His fingers again tightened on her arm. T really am sorry about your losing everything, Charlotte. Please believe me, I wouldn't have had it happen that way.' 'I know.' 'I went to find you this afternoon,' he went on, 'but I got cold feet before I got to the door, and went back again.' Charlotte stared unbelievingly. 'You? You got cold feet?' 'I was afraid you wouldn't see me,' h& confessed, to Charlotte's amazement. 'Not after the way I pounced on you on Tuesday when you frightened my horse and then came back and cried over me. Then learning that I'd got Blanestock from you 186 after all, I quite expected you to hate the very sight of me.' 'How do you know I don't?' Charlotte asked, suddenly and gloriously unworried. He bent his fair head over her and she could see the glint of laughter in his eyes, but something more besides. There was an expression there that stirred her pulses into such a wild state of chaos that she was not even sure where she was. 'Well, you were definitely worried about me when you thought I'd been thrown by Satan,' he told her. 'And well, let's see, shall we ?' He pulled her close, so close that she could scarcely breathe, one hand holding her head with the strong fingers twined into her hair so that she was held firm, and the other arm right around her waist and iron hard. His mouth was gentle at first, then more urgent until she felt her head going round and round with the sheer excitement of something she could not altogether understand, and she clung to him tightly, her fingers caressing the rough nape of his neck where the fair hair grew just slightly curled. 'Scott!' He laughed, and it- tickled her neck where his face was buried in the softness of her hair, his voice muffled by its thickness. 'I wonder what you'd have done if I'd done this the first time I felt like it,' he speculated, and Charlotte drew back for a second to look at him enquiringly. 'And when was that?'she demanded. 187 The hazel eyes glinted at her in the moonlight and she knew he was laughing. 'The very first time I saw you at the foot of the stairs at Blanestock,' he told her. 'I didn't really believe you were real, standing there. You certainly didn't look like a Miss Charlotte Brown.' 'Oh?' She laughed softly. 'What did I look like?' 'The most beautiful girl I'd ever seen,' he said, and kissed her again until she was breathless. 'How about that wish now?' he asked at last, and she smiled as she buried her head against his chest. 'I think it has a good chance of coming true,' she told him. 'But are you sure you want to I mean I'm not an heiress now, you know. I'm only a ' His mouth stopped the rest of the sentence as he had done when she had been about to denigrate herself once before. 'I've told you before about that,' he said sternly. 'And my wife won't be an only anything Charlotte sighed and looked over his shoulder at the old tree, stark and black against the starry sky, its gnarled fingers full of glittering stars. 'I can't think -why I've been crying so much for the last two days,' she told him softly. 'There was bound to be magic in a handful of stars, wasn't there?' Scott laughed softly and hugged her closer. 'Bound to be,' he agreed. 'Especially when we were both wishing for the same thing.' i88
