Tavern Wench

by Anne Ashley

  Emma was pleased to discover herself placed beside Sir Lionel near the foot of the table, but she was not so delighted to find the Ashworth steward, Lucius Flint, on her left. Initially she assumed he must have been invited so that there wasn’t an odd number dining that evening, but she was swiftly forced to revise her opinion. He appeared quite at home, as though he routinely sat down to dinner with the family, and did not seem in the least reluctant to have his share of the conversation.

  Isabel Ashworth proved that she was a seasoned hostess, when she rose to her feet the instant everyone had eaten their fill of the excellently prepared food, and invited the ladies to retire to the salon. Much to Emma’s surprise, Isabel chose to position herself beside her on the sofa, and was not slow to raise Mr Grantley’s name by enquiring when he was expected to return to Ashworth Magna.

  ‘I was most disappointed to discover that he would not be with us this evening,’ Isabel continued, after receiving only a vague response.

  ‘Perhaps it was just as well.’ Very much on her guard, Emma was determined not to betray Benedict’s trust. Although he had not put it in so many words, she felt sure that Isabel Ashworth was the very last person he would want apprised of his whereabouts. ‘Had he been invited, there would have been an odd number at table. Thirteen to be precise—unlucky, I believe.’

  Isabel dismissed this with a wave of one thin hand. ‘Oh, we could easily have overcome that problem. I do hope he does not delay his return too long. Such an intelligent man! I trust he will condescend to dine with us again when he does return.’

  ‘I should not suppose for a moment that he intends to remain away for very much longer, otherwise I’m certain he would have taken his nephew with him. Although it is perhaps fortuitous in the circumstances that Mr Fencham chose not to accompany his uncle. He and Lord Ashworth appear to have struck up a swift friendship.’

  Emma did not doubt for a moment that Isabel had been quick to appreciate this fact. Not much, she suspected, ever escaped the notice of the female whose word had been law in the Ashworth household for very many years.

  Undoubtedly her association with Benedict had induced Emma to be far more observant in recent days, and she had certainly not missed the several assessing glances their hostess had cast down the length of the table during dinner. Had Isabel too observed that, although Lord Ashworth had paid a reasonable amount of attention to his cousin, who had been seated on his right, his eyes, more often than not, had strayed in quite a different lady’s direction. Yes, she strongly suspected that Isabel had not missed Richard’s frequent glances at Deborah.

  With this passing through her mind, Emma transferred her gaze to the sofa opposite, where Deborah sat in conversation with Clarissa Ashworth. Her friend was, undeniably, a pretty young woman. Nevertheless, when compared to Clarissa she paled into insignificance. Most gentlemen, Emma didn’t doubt for a moment, would be dazzled by Miss Ashworth’s undeniable beauty, and yet Emma was acquainted with at least two members of the opposite sex who appeared completely unmoved by the young lady’s charms, namely Benedict and Richard.

  Isabel, following the direction of those strikingly lovely grey eyes, which had so captured a certain absent gentleman’s attention, was not slow to comment that her niece was looking particularly animated tonight. ‘That, I suspect, is because she has been invited to accompany Cedric and his family to Brighton when they leave in the morning. I was not certain whether I should allow her to go, Miss Lynn, but all things considered, I thought it would be wrong to refuse. Like Miss Hammond, Clarissa was denied the pleasure of a Season because of her father’s demise. My brother has been dead now for almost a year, and I thought it would be cruel to adhere strictly to convention and deny her the treat.’

  Emma found herself easily agreeing with this. ‘You will find the house strangely quiet when they have all left you, Miss Ashworth. Or do you propose to make up one of the party?’

  ‘Oh, no. I shall remain here. It will grant me the opportunity to become better acquainted with my nephew. I am hoping to persuade him to take up residence here. Which, I might add, he seems strangely reluctant to do.’

  Thankfully Emma was saved the necessity of commenting, for the door opened, and Richard himself surprisingly entered the room. After a swift glance about him, he came directly across to the sofa in order to ask her if she would care to accompany him on a tour of the house. She didn’t need to consider the matter, and was on her feet in an instant. When, however, his aunt made to rise also, Richard quickly forestalled her, informing her that he had already secured the services of the butler to take them on a guided tour, so she was at liberty to remain with her other guests.

  The invitation was then extended to Lavinia and her daughter, both of whom appeared happy to accept, and they did not delay in going out into the hall, where they discovered the aged retainer awaiting them.

  Lavinia, being a respected member of the community, had visited the house on numerous occasions in the past, and was familiar with most of the ground-floor rooms. Emma, on the other hand, was not, and found much to interest her.

  Although, like Benedict, she considered the exterior of the building singularly lacking in architectural beauty, she had no fault to find with the interior. With the possible exception of the comfortable parlour, which she had entered on the night of the party, all the rooms were charmingly decorated and tastefully furnished. So it came as something of a surprise to see that Richard, apart from commenting favourably on the carved wooden panelling in the library, displayed little enthusiasm for his ancestral home.

  This surprising show of indifference continued as they explored the charming bedchambers on the upper floor, and it was only when they ventured into the west wing, and began to view the main apartments, that he finally began to betray some degree of interest in his surroundings.

  ‘Correct me if I’m wrong, Troughton,’ he remarked, after casting his eyes round the delightful bedchamber, decorated in various shades of pink and rose, ‘but did you not say that these rooms are those which have been favoured by past mistresses of the house?’

  ‘That is correct, sir,’ the butler confirmed, before gesturing towards a connecting door. ‘As you see, sir, it adjoins the master bedchamber.’

  Richard focused his attention on the assortment of bottles on the dressing table, and then glanced briefly at the shawl lying over the back of the plush velvet chair. ‘Would I be right in thinking that this room is being used at the present time?’

  ‘Why, yes, sir. Miss Isabel moved in here shortly after her brother was taken ill last year in order to take care of him. After the late Lord Ashworth’s demise, she remained here whilst her own bedchamber, next to Miss Clarissa’s in the east wing, was being redecorated. She has yet to issue instructions to have her things returned to her old room, my lord.’

  ‘I see,’ Richard murmured, opening the connecting door and leading the way into the master bedchamber, which in stark contrast to the delicate pink shades of the adjoining room was strikingly decorated in gold and crimson.

  After approving the solid masculinity of the furnishings, Lavinia suggested that they might take time to study the paintings that decorated the walls of the long gallery. Emma, certainly not averse to spending a few minutes casting her eyes over the previous holders of the title, was about to follow the others from the room, when she noticed Richard, clearly troubled about something, staring rather forlornly out of the window at the park, and decided to remain to bear him company.

  It was not perhaps the wisest course of action to remain alone with a gentleman who was not a close relative, and most certainly not in a bedchamber, but she did not allow this to deter her from moving back into the room to join him by the window. She did not suppose for a moment that it would cross his mind to take advantage of the situation. Furthermore, unless she was very much mistaken, he already suspected that her heart belonged to another.

  When he continued to stare out across the park, seemingly oblivious to her pres
ence, she reached up to touch his arm with her fingertips. ‘What is it?’ she asked gently. ‘Do you not approve of your ancestral home?’

  ‘I wouldn’t go so far as to say that, Emma,’ he answered, after a further moment’s thoughtful silence. ‘I cannot help wondering, though, why the place was erected on this spot. If I had the choice, I would build my house there.’ He pointed to a raised area of land which offered a commanding view of the lake and the surrounding countryside.

  ‘Yes, it would be an ideal situation,’ she agreed, before returning her gaze to the faintly troubled face of the young Baron. ‘Is it that you feel that you would not be contented living here, Richard?’

  ‘I’m striving to keep an open mind, Emma,’ he responded, with that innate honesty which she could not fail to admire. ‘What I strongly suspect, however, is that I would never be perfectly comfortable living here with my aunt and cousin residing under the same roof.’ He cast her a faintly embarrassed smile. ‘Does that seem foolish to you?’

  ‘No, not at all,’ she assured him. ‘I think I can understand how you must feel. Your aunt and cousin have lived here all their lives. The servants might find it a little strange at first having to take their orders from another, which might give rise to a certain amount of awkwardness.’

  ‘Not only that, Emma. My aunt plainly feels that she is mistress here. That role will one day fall to my wife when I marry. Will Isabel Ashworth willingly relinquish her position, and be content to remain here merely as a dependant? Somehow, I think not.’

  No, and neither did Emma, but she had no intention of adding to his worries by admitting to it. Instead she said, ‘I do not see why she should be dependent upon you, Richard. Unless I much mistake the matter, she has sufficient money of her own to buy a comfortable residence somewhere—perhaps at one of the fashionable spa towns. In the meantime, I see no reason why she should not take immediate steps to move into the dower house. You could always speak to Sir Lionel, or Benedict—I mean, Mr Grantley, when he returns. Either could advise you far better than I can.’

  ‘Ahh, yes! The errant gentleman of whom everyone seems so fond.’ He cast her a quizzical glance. ‘I very much look forward to making his acquaintance. I have been led to believe he is something of an astute judge of character. It might be interesting to learn his views on the steward here, who appears to have his feet firmly under the table. Is it common practice to invite one’s employees to join a dinner party?’

  Once more she found herself admiring his perspicacity. ‘I wouldn’t have thought so, no. But, here again, you could do no better than to ask—’

  She checked, as she clearly detected a sound from the adjoining room. In all probability it was merely a maid-servant come to tidy her mistress’s bedchamber. None the less, it was a timely reminder, and Emma decided, for appearance’s sake, that it might be wise not to remain alone with Richard any longer.

  Seemingly he was of a similar mind, for he at once suggested that they rejoin the others whom they discovered contemplating a painting of one of his more notorious ancestors, who had earned the reputation of having been a wild and godless man. After taking a moment to contemplate the clear evidence of dissipation etched into the harsh-featured face, Emma gave way to an imp of mischief by announcing that she could detect a strong resemblance to the present holder of the title, which sent Richard into peals of laughter, before he led the way back down the impressive staircase to the salon in time to catch Clarissa asking her aunt if she had managed to find her handkerchief.

  ‘Yes, dear. I eventually discovered it beside my chair in the dining room.’ Appearing slightly breathless, Isabel turned, bestowing a smile upon all members of the returning party, before addressing her nephew. ‘Richard, I was wondering if you would have any objections to the household staff attending the annual summer fair held near Andover? It will take place on Friday, and will mean their being away for most of the day and perhaps not returning until the following morning. You see, I thought it might serve by way of a celebration to welcome the arrival of their new master.’

  ‘I have no objections whatsoever, ma’am,’ he was quick to assure her. ‘But will it not make things a little difficult for you?’

  ‘Not at all. Cousin Cedric will be leaving us tomorrow morning, taking Clarissa with him for a short stay in Brighton. Consequently from Thursday onwards the servants will only need to cater for my needs. I do not have a large appetite. Cook will simply need to prepare my breakfast before she leaves on Friday and leave me something cold which I might eat for my supper, so there will be no problem,’ Emma heard Isabel Ashworth respond, before she noticed Harry making frantic gestures, which she took to mean that he wished her to partner him at whist.

  As Emma took her seat opposite him at one of the tables set out for cards, she considered what she had overheard, and swiftly came to the conclusion that it had been very generous on Miss Ashworth’s part to suggest such a treat for the servants, little realising, as she reached for her cards, that she would in the very near future be forced to revise that opinion.

  After overnight rain, Friday dawned bright and sunny, and thankfully remained clement for those making the journey to Andover for the annual fair. Samuel was among the several villagers who had set out at the crack of dawn, for he had decided it was high time he purchased another horse, and was determined to arrive early in order to attain the best bargain. He had taken Josh with him, and Emma thought the inn had seemed strangely quiet throughout the day. Both Harry and Richard had been out for much of the time, and Harry had informed her shortly after breakfast that he would not be returning until late, as he had accepted a second invitation to dine with Colonel Meecham and his wife.

  Shortly before six, Emma returned to the kitchen to check on the dinner. As only Richard planned to bear her company in the parlour that evening, she had taken the trouble to prepare several of his favourite dishes, which included asparagus soup, a fricassee of chicken and a lemon jelly. Everything was ready and waiting to be served. Sadly, though, there was no sign of Richard.

  She had not been at all happy when she had discovered that he had had every intention of spending the whole morning in Salisbury, and that he had planned to go on his own. However, as Harry had quite rightly pointed out, when she had approached him about it shortly before he himself had left the inn, it was impossible to guard Richard all of the time without his becoming suspicious.

  Unfortunately Richard did not share Harry’s passion for either fishing or billiards, which was perhaps why he had chosen not to accompany Harry to Sir Lionel’s that morning, and had also declined the invitation to dine with the Colonel, who loved nothing better than spending an evening with a cue in his hand. Nevertheless she simply couldn’t understand what could possibly be keeping him in Salisbury all this time. She felt certain he had said he intended to return early in the afternoon.

  ‘Are you certain Lord Ashworth hasn’t returned, Lucy?’

  ‘Yes, Miss Em. I knocked on his door while you were changing your dress, and when there was no answer, I went in. The coat he asked me to press when he came back earlier is still lying on the bed where I left it.’

  Emma’s brows rose in surprise. ‘I didn’t realise he had returned. When was this?’

  ‘Around two o’clock.’ The response came from Martha, who had emerged from the laundry, carrying a pile of clean sheets. ‘If my memory serves me correctly, it was while you were returning those journals to Lavinia Hammond. He went out again almost at once. Said something about riding over to Sir Lionel’s place. Maybe it slipped his mind that he bespoke dinner this evening, and is dining with Sir Lionel.’

  ‘Or mayhap he’s still over at the Hall,’ Lucy suggested, thereby earning herself a sharp look from a pair of suddenly alert grey eyes.

  ‘Why do you suppose he may have gone there, Lucy?’

  ‘On account of the letter, Miss Em.’

  ‘What letter?’

  ‘The letter one of the estate workers brung up from the H
all this morning. I only just remembered in time that I’d slipped it into my apron, and rushed into the yard to give it to Lord Ashworth before he left.’

  Martha did not miss the fleeting look of concern. ‘What’s wrong, Emma?’

  ‘Oh, nothing—nothing at all,’ she answered, but to Martha’s ears the response lacked any real conviction.

  ‘He may have decided to dine at the Hall,’ she suggested.

  ‘Yes, perhaps he did,’ Emma agreed, before memory stirred. ‘No, he wouldn’t have done that,’ she corrected. ‘Isabel Ashworth offered the servants the opportunity to go to the fair. I cannot imagine that many, if any, would have declined the treat.’ She shrugged. ‘In all probability you are right and he is with Sir Lionel, so we shall eat the meal I’ve prepared for supper when Samuel returns.’

  Desperately striving not to allow herself to worry unnecessarily, Emma accompanied Martha upstairs and, after changing back into her old gown, helped to put clean sheets on Harry’s bed, before returning to the kitchen to repair the one Richard had inadvertently put his toe through earlier in the week. It was a large rent, and the sewing took her some little time. Unfortunately she found her gaze all too frequently straying in the direction of the kitchen clock, and when the hour hand had slowly moved from seven to eight, she found it impossible to thrust from her mind the dreadful possibility that something untoward had happened to the young Baron.