Reawakening Miss Calverley

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Reawakening Miss Calverley Page 7

by Sylvia Andrew


  He opened the gate, and she went through and stopped to feast her eyes on the garden inside. It was set against a tranquil background of grey stone walls and soft greenery, a garden full of spring, with clumps of rich golden daffodils, creamy jonquils, an array of scarlet tulips…She forgot her troubles as she wandered on, bending down now and again to admire pale yellow primroses or to take in the scent of dark purple violets. Pots of lavender and rosemary, beds of roses, lilacs and honeysuckles climbing up the walls, hinted at pleasures to come, waiting to give the garden colour and scent when the spring flowers had gone.

  * * *

  James sat on a bench, content to watch Anne as she walked along the paths, stopping to sniff a flower, gently finger a leaf or examine a bud. This was the first time he had been able to observe her at a distance, to see her as someone he might meet socially at a garden party, or at one of his friends’ houses. Her dress was simple, her boots serviceable rather than elegant, but she moved among his grandmother’s flowers with grace and inborn pride, an aristocrat to the tips of her fingers.

  She came back to the bench and sank down gratefully beside him. ‘Thank you. Your grandmother is a genius. And you are very kind.’ She hesitated, and then, not looking at him, she said, ‘I have an apology to make. This morning when you went out without…without saying anything, I wondered if you were tired of me and the problems I had brought you. Mrs Culver kept telling me what a busy man you were, and after…after last night I thought you wouldn’t want to waste any more of your time on me. I know your opinion of poor-spirited females, you see, and last night I was disgracefully poor-spirited! I’m sorry for burdening you so.’

  ‘Burdening me?’ he said, amazed that she had so little idea of what he thought of her. ‘What a ridiculous notion! The more I see of you the more I wonder at your courage.’

  ‘I’m n-not at all b-brave,’ she stammered.

  ‘Oh, yes, you are. But what on earth made you think I had deserted you?’

  ‘I was…I was disappointed. And stupid. Mrs Culver told me you had gone out without leaving word and I thought…’

  ‘Ah! I see. You thought we would have breakfast together again, was that it? I wanted a look at that coach and was up and out too early to call on you before I left. But…’ he gave her a smile and took her hand ‘…before I went I had planned to bring you out here when I got back. Does that make you happier?’

  His hand round hers felt warm and comforting. She nodded, and said, ‘I should have guessed that you would look for the coach. Did you find it?’

  ‘Very easily—one of the farmers had already hauled it out of the stream. He found the purse—together with a piece of rope.’ Stroking her wrists with his thumbs, he said, ‘I can guess what the rope was used for. And I had great hopes of the purse. But it didn’t help, did it?’

  She shook her head and her feeling of happiness vanished, ‘That’s just it. Nothing seems to help!’ She got up and walked away, suddenly struggling for calm. ‘Why is it?’ she burst out. ‘Why on earth is it that I remember the names of most of the plants in this garden, but can’t remember my own? You cannot imagine what it feels like to live with only half a mind. I’m in limbo!’

  James followed her and drew her back against him. ‘Nonsense! You’re not in limbo, you’re in the garden at Hatherton, and you’re living with me, not half a mind. I’m better than that.’

  This made her laugh in spite of herself. ‘Indeed you are!’

  ‘Tell me what you’ve been doing today. I suppose Cully told you where I was?’

  ‘She wasn’t sure. She said you might be visiting your friends, or calling at Roade House.’

  ‘I’m surprised at Cully! She knew precisely where I was going and what I was doing, because I told her. I was sure she would pass it on to you.’

  ‘Mrs Culver thinks I’m a bad influence on you. She’s afraid I’ll distract you from what you’re here for. I don’t know what that is, of course. Why are you here at Hatherton?’

  ‘I’m here to see what ought to be done to Roade House.’

  ‘Roade House?’

  ‘The big house up the valley from here. Sit down on this bench and I’ll tell you about it. My great-grandfather built it. He was already more than rich enough when he married an heiress, Christina Roade. They decided Hatherton was too small and too old-fashioned for them, so they built a mansion on the side of the hill half a mile up the valley and called it Roade House.’ He stopped and she wondered why he frowned. ‘The house…the house has been…has been practically unused since my grandmother moved out of it after my grandfather died. It needs a lot of attention.’ Almost reluctantly he said, ‘Would you like to see it? If the weather is as good tomorrow I’ll show it to you. Could you could manage that?’

  ‘I’m sure I could.’

  ‘Or—better still—do you ride?’

  She cocked her head and gave him a mock-reproachful look. ‘Now how would I know that, Lord Aldhurst?’ Then she laughed and said cheerfully, ‘But I expect I do. I could certainly try.’

  James looked at her animated face, and secretly congratulated himself on distracting her from her problems. ‘We shall see tomorrow. I have an idea my mother’s riding things are in the attics here. I’ll get Cully to look them out.’

  ‘Mrs Culver will no doubt be delighted,’ said Anne drily.

  ‘Cully is all right. She’ll come round in time.’

  ‘Not if she sees me as a threat to her darlings! How long has she been in service with the Aldhursts?’

  ‘All her life. She came as a girl when my grandmother was first married and has been with her ever since. Don’t worry about the riding things—she’ll look them out tomorrow morning. So, would you like to ride up to the House with me?’

  ‘Weather, ability and Mrs Culver permitting, I think I would. Thank you!’

  ‘Now I have another suggestion to make!’

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘I shan’t ask you if you play chess—you’ll tell me you don’t know. But we shall see what you can do.’

  ‘When? Now?’

  ‘Tonight. I must go soon to have a word with one of the farmers, and will probably eat with them…Shall we try a game when I come back? It won’t be late.’

  ‘I’m perfectly willing to try, though I give you no guarantees. Where shall we play? Much as I like my bedroom, I don’t think Mrs Culver would approve.’

  ‘We won’t risk it. I’ll order a fire to be lit in the library and we shall play there. Would you like that?’

  ‘Very much!’ James saw her pull the shawl up round her shoulders, looked at the slanting shadows in the garden and said firmly, ‘I think it’s time we went in, don’t you? And, after I’ve seen you to your room, I shall find Mrs Culver and tell her our plans.’

  * * *

  Anne went upstairs in a more cheerful frame of mind. James had made her feel a real person again with something to contribute, something to look forward to. The feeling was probably temporary, but it was pleasant while it lasted. At the door to her room he held her hand, and said, ‘Till tonight, Anne.’ His eyes lingered on her mouth, and she thought for one heart-stopping moment he was about to kiss her. But he shook his head ruefully and walked to the stairs. He turned and looked back. ‘Till tonight,’ he said again.

  She went in and shut the door.

  Chapter Six

  Now that she was alone Anne found she was tired after her walk in the garden. She went over to her chair by the window and sat down. Her thoughts were full of James Aldhurst, his warmth, his concern for her, his refusal to let her despair. She somehow doubted that many of his London friends had seen this side of him. Certainly not the beautiful, well-connected Lady Barbara. He had described London to her over their shared breakfast, the busy streets, the houses, the balls, the soirées. She closed her eyes and saw herself in a white silk dress, gliding down the room on his arm, the centre of admiration…

  * * *

  ‘Miss Anne! Wake up, Miss Anne!’ Som
eone was shaking her shoulder. It was Rose with her evening meal. As she arranged Anne’s tray she said, ‘You must have done too much this afternoon, miss. You’ve tired yourself out.’

  ‘I was glad of a rest afterwards,’ Anne admitted. ‘But I’m sure the fresh air did me good.’

  ‘What did you think of her ladyship’s garden?’ Rose talked to Anne as she busied herself about the room, tidying up. When she had finished she paused, and then said, ‘The fire in the library is already lit. The room will be nice and warm for you. You could wait there for his lordship if you wished.’

  Anne looked with amusement at the maid. ‘Thank you. Yes, I think I will,’ she said calmly. ‘I suppose the whole household knows that we are to play a game of chess there tonight?’

  ‘Well, Miss Anne, there isn’t much that escapes us. Most of us are related one way or another, and the ones that aren’t have been here for years. But we don’t talk to outsiders. Would you like me to brush your dress and do your hair before you go down?’ Anne nodded and Rose went on, ‘It’s a real shame you haven’t anything else to wear—especially when there are so many clothes in the presses upstairs. You’re a bit taller than her ladyship, but there are some that belonged to his lordship’s mother which would fit you very well.’

  ‘I’m quite happy with this dress, Rose, especially if you would give it a brush. Mrs Culver did bring some others for me, but you’re right. Both dresses are rather short.’

  ‘Hmm! Those were only fit for the rag bag, if you ask me. There are much prettier ones upstairs.’ She gave Anne a look. ‘But perhaps Mrs Culver doesn’t want you to look pretty.’

  ‘I am very happy with whatever she brings, Rose.

  Beggars can’t be choosers. But I would like you to do my hair. You have such a good touch.’

  ‘You’re no beggar, Miss Anne! Supposing I took some of the lace off your petticoat and made a collar for that dark dress of yours. It wouldn’t take more than half an hour and the dress would look much better. Shall I?’

  Anne smiled. Rose’s enthusiasm was very appealing. ‘Why not?’ she said.

  * * *

  And when Anne put the dress on again an hour later she was amazed at its transformation. The cheap servant’s dress with its high fastening and long, ill-cut sleeves had changed into something quite different. Its high-necked bodice now had a white collar and cuffs edged with lace, turning its wearer into a demure Quaker girl of a bygone era. Rose had finished by brushing Anne’s hair into neat bands and winding it all on top of her head in a coronet of polished chestnut. ‘I knew it would look right on you, Miss Anne! I just knew it! I wonder what his lordship will think.’

  ‘I wonder what Mrs Culver will think, Rose! You must finish off now. You’ll be in trouble if you spend much more of your time up here. But I do thank you for your work.’

  ‘Mrs Culver has gone out and won’t be back for another hour or more. I’ve always wanted to be a lady’s maid, Miss Anne, and doing things for you these past days has been a real pleasure.’

  ‘Well,’ Anne said, laughing, ‘if I turn out to be a lady, and if I need a maid, I shall send for you.’

  Rose grinned. ‘Better be careful, Miss Anne. You might turn out to be a Duchess, and what would a Duchess do with a maid like me? Would you like me to help you downstairs?’

  * * *

  Anne entered the library, and stopped short at the sight of the shelves of books, the smell of leather, the faint scent of pine logs on the fire, the rich colours of Oriental rugs, decanters with golden contents, glasses scintillating in the light…She had never been in this room before, but the mixture was potently familiar. Sometime, somewhere, she had spent a good deal of her leisure in a room very like this one. Quite when and where that had been stayed lost in the dark recesses of her mind, but this time she refused to be depressed. Tonight was a night to put aside her problems, a night to be enjoyed.

  It was still early, and she knew James would not be there for some time. So she wandered round the room looking with interest at objects on display—a sword used in 1645 by a Royalist Aldhurst on the wall above the fireplace, a tiny linen cap worn by an Aldhurst baby in 1510, and a letter from Queen Anne to James’s great-great-grandfather in a small glass-topped display table. Then she looked along the shelves for a book, and was soon sitting by the fire, in the excellent light of a branching candlestick, happily dipping into a copy of Pride and Prejudice.

  * * *

  So when James came in he was faced with the enchanting sight of Anne lost to the world in a book held in slender white-cuffed hands. The light of the candles in front of her had turned her chestnut hair to copper flame, her face was in profile, a pure line through cheek and delicate throat down to the white of her collar, her dress a dark background to the whole. For a moment it could have been a picture by some Dutch artist, and he wished he could find someone to paint it—a study of contrasts, light and shade, warm chestnut flame and cool white, the stillness of the figure and the leaping firelight…But she looked up and the moment had gone.

  ‘This is a surprise!’ she exclaimed. She put the book down and came towards him, smiling and holding out her hands. ‘You’re here much sooner than I expected.’

  He took her hands and held her away from him. ‘I managed to get away early. I’m glad to see that you don’t look at all tired after your outing. Where did you find your new dress?’

  Anne laughed. ‘Thank you! It’s a very old one created by Rose with help from a frill from my petticoat. I’m pleased you like it.’

  ‘I like it very much, though I’m not sure why—Puritan girls are not usually my style!’ He led her back to her chair. ‘When I came in you looked so contented reading your book that I hardly dared disturb you! Do you still want to try a game of chess, or would you prefer to read?’

  ‘I can read when I’m alone. I’d like a game of chess with you.’

  James moved the book and the candlestick from her table and Anne watched in fascination as he unfolded the top and revealed a board inlaid with squares of black and white. As he laid the chessmen out on the board he named each one to her—king and queen, bishop and rook, knight and pawn—and demonstrated the moves each one could make.

  ‘Good,’ he said. ‘I think you know enough. We shall begin. We’ll have a practice run first.’

  Anne looked at him. He was very confident. She wondered whether to tell him that she knew she could play. She had, in fact, known as soon as she had seen the chessmen. But she decided it would be more fun not to tell, and this evening was a time for fun.

  James pushed one of his pawns forwards and waited. Anne hesitated, looked at him doubtfully and then responded. She made some deliberate mistakes, but not too many of them, and listened attentively as James explained where she had gone wrong. After a while he announced that they could play in earnest.

  * * *

  The game went slowly at first as Anne paused before each move, apparently trying to remember what he had told her. James, who was renowned throughout London for his opinion of people who hesitated too long at cards or chess, was not at all bored. He made his moves when it was his turn, and otherwise sat back and took pleasure in watching the girl opposite him. The fresh air of the afternoon seemed to have done her good. Her cheeks had more colour in them, and her eyes were clear and full of animation. She looked very lovely, though one of her braids had come unfastened and a lock of hair was resting over her shoulder. It fascinated him—it seemed to have a life of its own in the flickering light of the fire, and he could very easily imagine the red-headed child she said she had been…

  Time passed. Anne was now wearing a frown of concentration as she studied the board in front of her, and James was intrigued to see the tip of her tongue appear as she deliberated. He had seldom seen anything so innocently seductive, he thought, moving his bishop.

  ‘Er…I’m not sure what I should do now,’ Anne said.

  James looked at the board. ‘Isn’t your queen in danger?’

&nb
sp; ‘Not if I take that bishop with my knight. Like that. Is this where I say “Check”?’

  James looked at the board again, this time more closely. ‘You’ve managed to get my king in check! How did that happen?’ he asked blankly.

  ‘Perhaps you weren’t concentrating? In fact, James, I don’t think you can move your king at all, can you? Isn’t that—what was the word? It means “The King is dead”.’

  ‘Checkmate!’ Slightly annoyed with himself, James apologised and suggested they should try again.

  ‘I would love to! I must remember that word—checkmate,’ Anne said thoughtfully with a hint of mischief in her eyes. And when James laid out the pieces again he told himself he must treat this game a little more seriously. It wasn’t fair to Anne to make such careless errors.

  * * *

  But by the time James had discovered that his previous defeat was not solely due to his own carelessness, it was already too late. Anne was once again in a commanding position.

  He looked her in the eye. ‘I concede defeat, ma’am. And I deserved it. I made a cardinal mistake, one which I haven’t made since I was a boy at school.’

  ‘What is that, sir?’ asked Anne innocently, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

  ‘I underestimated my opponent. Where did you learn to play like that—at your father’s knee? Whoever taught you must have been a master!’

  ‘I have no idea who taught me, of course. But I do know I’ve played a great deal. I confess I knew I could play as soon as we started,’ she said, starting to laugh.

  ‘You mean to tell me that you were leading me by the nose right from the beginning?’ demanded James. Anne found the expression of outrage on his face so comical that she couldn’t suppress the laughter bubbling up inside her. Eyes brimming with mirth, she tried to say something, but could only manage to nod her head helplessly.

  James came round the table and pulled her up from her chair. He looked at the laughing face so close to his own, and said severely, ‘You ungrateful little imp! I ought to punish you,’ and gave her a shake. A giggle escaped her and then he too started to laugh.

 

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