Читать книгу Lord Hawkridge's Secret - ANNE ASHLEY, Anne Ashley - Страница 9

Raising her eyes from the book which she had obtained from the lending library on the very day she had come upon the stranger at Kempton Wood, Emily gazed across at the sofa, where Sarah sat busily hemming the last few inches of her new gown, and frowned as something odd occurred to her.

‘Sarah, did Sir George Maynard ever question you about that unfortunate incident last week?’

‘No. Why do you ask?’

‘Because it seems to me he’s taken the murder of that stranger very lightly. Which is most unlike him. He’s usually so conscientious. He returned from London four days ago, but hasn’t made the least attempt to question me again.’

Sarah shrugged. ‘Perhaps he doesn’t think there’s anything further you can tell him.’

‘Ah, but there is!’ Emily enlightened her, closing her book and tossing it aside. ‘You see I’ve been thinking about the incident a good deal, and I now recall precisely what the stranger said to me before he died.’

‘In that case why don’t you inform Sir George?’ Sarah suggested, exhibiting her usual sound good sense. ‘He’ll be at the party tomorrow night. And so too shall I now that my new gown is finished!’ she added, her mind swiftly turning to far more important matters as far as she was concerned. She held the garment at arm’s length the better to survey the finished result. ‘I cannot thank you enough for all the work you did on this. If it hadn’t been for you I’d never have finished it in time.’

‘If you must thank someone, then thank Budd,’ Emily responded, refusing to take the credit. ‘She did most of the work on it, not I.’

‘In that case I shall make a point of doing so. Your housekeeper’s an absolute treasure!’

‘I’m very well aware of it,’ Emily assured her. ‘If it hadn’t been for dear old Budd I’d have been saddled with a duenna, would you believe?’

Sarah frankly laughed. ‘For someone who enjoyed a deal of freedom throughout her childhood, far more than most girls are privileged to experience, I cannot imagine you would have taken too kindly to having your treasured independence drastically curtailed by a chaperon.’

‘How well you know me, my dear. No, I should not!’ Emily admitted. ‘Fortunately Budd stepped into the breach by suggesting that she keep an eye on me until a suitable duenna was found. Whether grandfather then forgot the idiotic notion, or was happy to leave matters as they were, I’m not certain.

‘Oh, yes, I’m very well aware that Lady Deverel, among several others hereabouts, thinks it highly improper for a young woman of my age not to be suitably chaperoned,’ Emily went on when she detected her friend’s wry grin. ‘But it’s nonsensical, Sarah. I live with my grandfather, a venerable, elderly gentleman of sober habits. All right, I’ll admit that a cook-housekeeper might not be considered by most as an ideal chaperon, but no one could suggest that dear Mrs Budd isn’t respectable.’

‘That’s true enough,’ Sarah was forced to agree.

‘And since my arrival, of course, we’ve added to the household staff by employing Amy, the parlourmaid, and one of the village girls who comes in every day to help with the cleaning, so Budd isn’t precisely overworked, and is able to spend time with me when the need arises. And as I somehow acquired the running of the household, the servants usually come directly to me for instructions, so things go along pretty smoothly, and everyone is happy.’

Once again Sarah was unable to suppress a smile. ‘In other words you ruled the roost not long after taking up residence here, and have not called upon Budd’s services too often, I suspect.’

‘There’s been absolutely no need for me to do so,’ Emily wasn’t slow to point out. ‘But she’s always on hand on those rare occasions when younger gentlemen call at the house and the proprieties need to be observed. And then, of course, the instant I step outside Jonas Finn appears. He’s worse than six duennas!’

She frowned suddenly as a thought occurred to her. ‘It wasn’t by any chance Lady Deverel who suggested to Grandfather that I ought to have my own personal groom, was it?’

‘I cannot recall her ever mentioning it, no. What makes you ask?’

Puzzled, Emily shook her head. ‘I don’t know, but I’ve always thought it most odd that Grandfather should have thought of employing a personal groom for me. It isn’t the sort of thing that would cross his mind. Come to that, I’m rather surprised he ever considered employing a duenna. I wonder which interfering busybody was responsible for putting such an idiotic notion into his head in the first place?’

As no immediate candidate sprang to mind, Emily didn’t dwell on the conundrum over long, and turned her head to gaze briefly through the French windows at the very pleasing sight of the garden beyond the terrace bathed in bright April sunshine. ‘I do hope the weather remains fair. We can go out riding again tomorrow if it does.’

She turned back in time to catch a faint frown puckering her friend’s brow. ‘What is it, Sarah? You said how much you enjoyed our ride this morning.’

‘Yes, I did,’ she readily confirmed. ‘I haven’t ridden in such a long time. And I should dearly like to join you again, except…except tomorrow I promised Godmama that I would return to the Hall and help with the flower arrangements.’

Emily managed to suppress a snort of derision, but could not resist saying, ‘Oh, Sarah, I despair of you sometimes.’

Grey eyes clearly betrayed puzzlement. ‘But why? There will be plenty of opportunities to go riding while I remain here. I really did enjoy this morning’s exercise, and it was so kind of you to loan me one of your habits.’

‘I’d let you keep the wretched thing if I thought there was the remotest possibility of your making use of it after you return to the Hall.’

Striving to maintain a firm grasp on a temper which sadly could on occasions erupt with quite surprising force, Emily rose to her feet and went to stand before the window. ‘Are you honestly trying to tell me that Lady Deverel and the divine Drusilla, with the help of an army of servants, are incapable of arranging a few vases of flowers?’

‘Of course not. But Godmama considers that I have a flair for such things and particularly requested me to do the flowers for Drusilla’s birthday party.’

‘You are at that confounded family’s beck and call from dawn till dusk!’ Emily exclaimed, not so successful this time in putting a guard on her tongue, and Sarah was clearly surprised by the depth of contempt.

‘But—but I thought you liked the Deverels?’

Emily swung round, determined now to speak her mind. ‘Lady Deverel is undeniably a charming woman, and I do like her, yes. But even you cannot deny she’s dreadfully indolent. I always rubbed along very well with her late husband. But Drusilla’s nothing more than a spoilt beauty, too accustomed to having her own way. And getting it too! And Charles is an utter clodpole for not exerting more authority over his household since coming into the title.’

’emily, how can you say so?’ Sarah retorted, betraying a surprising show of annoyance for someone whose disposition was in general very placid. ‘Charles is a most thoughtful, charming gentleman. He never fails to offer his thanks for the small tasks I perform. And he isn’t a clodpole!’

Not unduly surprised by this display of staunch loyalty on Sarah’s part, Emily turned to stare out of the window once more, thereby concealing a wickedly knowing smile.

She had long since been made aware of the fact that both she and Sarah were considered immensely pretty young ladies by the majority of those living in the locale. Undeniably, when seen together, they made a pleasing contrast: she with her shining, dusky locks; Sarah with her blonde curls. Although neither of them might be considered conventionally beautiful, both had been blessed with regular features and excellent figures, and were handsome enough to win a second glance from the vast majority of masculine eyes. Consequently it was little wonder that their continued single state had given rise to a deal of gossip and speculation in recent years.

For her part, Emily experienced no desire to find herself a husband, and had made no secret of this fact in an attempt to dissuade any would-be suitors foolishly offering for her hand. Four visits to Brighton in as many years had produced several proposals of marriage, all of which she had kindly but firmly refused. Her disinclination to wed, she supposed, might have been easier to understand if she had revealed a dislike of masculine company, but in fact the opposite was true.

She rubbed along remarkably well with her grandfather who, it had to be said, was not the most scintillating company for much of the time, preferring the peace and quiet of his large and well-stocked library, where he could pursue his many and varied hobbies. She was unfailingly gracious to her grandfather’s male friends who visited the house, and was upon friendly terms with them all. Younger men, however, with the possible exception of Sir Charles Deverel, whom she had always regarded as a perfect gentleman, she tended to keep at a distance.

Emily considered that her friend’s continued single state was a little easier for the local gossips to comprehend. Although Sarah came from an old and well-respected family, her parents had not been wealthy and her dowry by all accounts was woefully small. Any discerning gentleman, however, wouldn’t take account of this, for Sarah’s sweet nature and charming manners, coupled with her undeniable ability to run a large household efficiently, certainly went a long way to make up for any lack of fortune.

It was generally felt that it was a great pity that Lady Deverel, having suffered the loss of her husband the previous year, had been obliged to postpone launching her only daughter into Society. It had been Lady Deverel’s intention to include Sarah in the proposed visit to the capital, and many had voiced the belief that both young ladies would have found themselves engaged before the Season was over. Emily, on the other hand, knew better. Although she felt sure that Drusilla, undeniably a beauty, would have had no difficulty in securing herself a suitable husband, she felt equally certain that any proposals which might have come Sarah’s way would have been politely but firmly refused.

Perhaps, she mused, some might consider that Sarah had set her sights too high, and that it would be far more sensible to be practical and encourage the attentions of the local vicar who had been showing a marked interest in her of late, but Emily thought differently. Why should Sarah agree to marry a man she did not love, when there was every chance she might attain her heart’s desire?

Emily turned her attention away from the view beyond the window to discover the angry spots of colour still lingering in her friend’s delicate cheeks. ‘I knew you would be unable to resist coming to your darling Charles’s defence.’ She smiled as the becoming flush deepened. ‘You might have succeeded in concealing your long-standing attachment from the world at large. But you’ve never fooled me.’

All at once Sarah appeared unable to meet that knowing, blue-eyed gaze. ‘I cannot imagine what you mean,’ she announced, delightfully flustered.

Emily’s glance was openly sceptical. ‘Oh, I think you know perfectly well what I mean. You’ve been in love with Charles almost from the moment you went to live at Deverel Hall. Don’t attempt to deny it,’ she added, when Sarah looked about to do just that. ‘I have little difficulty in interpreting the signs, simply because I’ve experienced the emotion myself.

‘Surprised, Sarah?’ Emily’s shout of laughter contained precious little mirth. ‘Yes, I can see you are. Clearly I’m far more adept at concealment than you.’

Sarah gazed across at her dearest friend in dawning wonder. ‘You—you’ve been in love, Em? You’ve never said anything before.’

‘It isn’t something I care to think about too often, let alone talk about,’ she admitted. ‘Even after several years I still find it painful.’

Sarah frowned. ‘You must have been very young.’

‘I was. But then I’d loved Sebastian Hawkridge all my life. I simply adored him when I was a child, used to follow him about everywhere. He was our nearest neighbour, and my mother’s godson.’

‘What happened?’ Sarah asked gently, and for a moment thought she was destined to learn nothing further.

But then Emily said, ‘As you know, when I was fifteen my mother insisted that I spend a year at that seminary in Bath. At the time, I assumed she did so because I was something of a tomboy, behaving in a less than commendable fashion on occasions. I realise now of course that the real reason was because she knew she was dying. During my visits home, she succeeded in concealing her illness remarkably well, but when I returned permanently, after the year at school, I realised just how ill she was. She didn’t wish me to come and live here. She had always been very fond of her father-in-law, but considered him totally unsuitable to look after a sixteen-year-old girl. But she judged Sebastian, almost nine years my senior, more than capable. What she didn’t know, and I discovered quite by chance, only a matter of a few months before she died, was that Seb was in love with someone else. Even so, he willingly agreed to marry me. The engagement was strictly private, and known to very few, and the wedding had been arranged for late August. But my mother’s death, quite naturally, changed everything.’

Although she had spoken without betraying any of the searing hurt which even now could well up at a moment’s notice, Emily was unable to suppress a heartfelt sigh. ‘I went to see my betrothed, a week after my mother’s funeral, and told him I couldn’t go through with the wedding, that I had only agreed to marry him because my mother had been so set on the idea. I said that I thought I was too young to know my own mind, and that I would much prefer to live with my grandfather than marry.’

‘And the gentleman in question believed you?’

‘Oh, yes—he believed me. And I haven’t set eyes on him since the day he came to see me off in my grandfather’s carriage, although he continues to write to me from time to time.’

‘Oh, Em. I’m so sorry.’ No one could have doubted Sarah’s sympathy. ‘I had no idea. And did your former fiancé marry the woman he loved?’

‘Sadly, no. And I have often speculated on why not. Perhaps he considered, as she was engaged by that time, that it was too late to offer himself as a candidate for her hand, and things were better left as they were. She married a certain Baronet a few weeks after I came to live with Grandfather. I had thought that Sebastian might meet another young woman who would capture his interest, but seemingly he has not. In fact since coming into his title he appears, if what the gossip columns contain is true, to have acquired rather rakish habits.’ She gave a shout of laughter. ‘What a lucky escape I had!’

Sarah frowned. ‘But if he hasn’t met anyone else, Emily, perhaps he still retains a sincere regard for you.’

‘Oh, I’m sure he does. If we had married, I’m certain too we’d have rubbed along together quite wonderfully well. Unfortunately I was, and still am for that matter, far too proud to figure as second-best in any man’s life, merely a substitute for what he really wanted.’

Emily waved a hand in a dismissive gesture. ‘I have yet to meet anyone who could take Sebastian’s place in my heart and I doubt I ever shall. My case is hopeless, I fear. But yours isn’t.’ Eyes which had been dimmed by sadness and bitter regrets were unexpectedly brightened by a hint of mischief. ‘Charles, I honestly suspect, cares more deeply for you than he realises. All you need to do is be patient and wait. I’m certain eventually he will come to appreciate the depths of his own feelings.’

‘I’m afraid my case too is hopeless. I know Charles is very fond of me, but I have little to offer him.’

‘You underrate yourself,’ Emily countered. ‘What’s more, you and Charles are perfectly suited. You are both easygoing souls, happy to live a quiet country life. All Charles really wants is a comfortable home which is run efficiently. And who better to fill his needs than you? After all, you’ve been doing precisely that since you went to live at Deverel Hall.’

Sarah smiled wanly. ‘I know I could make him happy, if only…’

‘Don’t abandon hope,’ Emily warned gently. ‘It will create a void that nothing can fill. Believe me, I know.’

Although Emily and Sarah were blissfully unaware of the fact, the subjects under discussion were only a few miles from Deverel Hall. The journey from the capital had been made in record time, and in immense comfort, owing to the fact that they had travelled in the well-sprung travelling carriage belonging to Lord Hawkridge.

‘I must say, Seb,’ Charles Deverel remarked, drawing his gaze away from the pleasing sight of very familiar landscape flashing past the window, ‘I’m glad we consigned our valets and baggage to my carriage and made the trip in yours. This is a superb turnout you have here. Never had such a comfortable journey in my life!’

‘It is merely one of the benefits of becoming the head of the family, dear boy, as you very well know,’ was the languid response.

Charles regarded his friend in silence. Like most of Lord Hawkridge’s close friends, he knew that Sebastian had been entirely contented living the comfortable life of a wealthy country gentleman in the fine property his father had left him in Hampshire, where he had been happy to indulge his passion for outdoor pursuits. Which made his drastically altered lifestyle in recent years somewhat hard to comprehend.

From what Charles understood, his friend now seemed to spend most of his time in the capital, accepting invitations to a seemingly endless round of parties, balls and soirées, and indulging in various dalliances with a number of society beauties, as well as enjoying more intimate relationships with several notorious Cyprians. On the surface it appeared that he had changed out of all recognition, but Charles couldn’t help thinking that deep down he was still the same solid, reliable and trustworthy fellow he had known during those years at Oxford.

‘I must say, Seb, I was rather surprised that you changed your mind and decided to honour our little affair down here with your presence. It won’t be one of those spectacularly lavish and fashionable parties you’ve grown accustomed to attending in recent years—just a small, informal do with a few close friends and neighbours.’

Lord Hawkridge held his friend’s slightly troubled gaze levelly. ‘Do you imagine I’ve grown so high in the instep that I think myself above attending a country party?’

‘Not a bit of it!’ Charles hurriedly assured him. ‘Fact of the matter is I’m surprised that you seem to spend most of your time in the capital these days.’

‘And that is precisely why I decided it was time for a change.’

Once again Charles regarded his companion in silence, before saying, ‘You never wished for the title did you, old fellow? In my case it was different, of course. I was raised for the express purpose of stepping into my sire’s boots when the time came.’

Lord Hawkridge reached into the pocket of his immaculate jacket, which clearly betrayed the hand of a master tailor, and drew out a snuffbox. ‘No,’ he admitted, after sampling its contents. ‘Both of my cousins losing their lives in that boating accident came as a shock. But as I was next in line I was given little choice in the matter. During the past few years I’ve grown accustomed to losing those whom I hold most dear. That is why I now live life to the full. One never knows just when the Grim Reaper might come knocking on one’s door. He can be quite indiscriminate and appears to choose those who are most undeserving to have their lives cut short.’

Charles wasn’t slow to understand. ‘You’re thinking of dear old Simon, aren’t you?’

‘Among others, yes,’ his lordship admitted.

‘The authorities never discovered who held up the coach, stole the necklace and killed poor Elizabeth, did they?’

‘No.’

Charles shook his head sadly. ‘Poor Simon, he never recovered from his wife’s death.’

‘No, he never did,’ Lord Hawkridge confirmed. ‘Had I known what he intended to do that night, I would have taken steps to prevent him. The loss of the necklace meant nothing to him; Elizabeth meant everything. But he might have recovered in time.’

The bitter regret in the deep, attractive voice was not hard to detect. ‘Surely you don’t hold yourself in any way to blame?’ Charles enquired. ‘How could you possibly have guessed that poor Simon meant to put a bullet through his brain?’

There was a bitter set now to his lordship’s generous mouth. ‘One is always left wondering if one could have done more.’

‘Put it from your mind,’ Charles urged him, as the carriage slowed to turn into Deverel Hall’s impressive gateway. ‘Ah, we’re here! Let us hope the ladies have everything organised. At least I know I can always rely on Sarah.’

As Lord Hawkridge had no idea to whom his friend was referring he refrained from comment, and merely accompanied Charles into the well-proportioned Restoration mansion which put him in mind of the ancestral home he had inherited in Kent, both buildings having been designed and constructed by the same architect.

Although he had known Charles for more than a decade, Sebastian had never visited the Deverels’ country estate before. Nor, apart from the late Sir Augustus Deverel who, unlike his son, had enjoyed paying regular visits to the capital, had he met any other member of the family.

His lordship’s address was excellent, and in recent years had been polished to such a degree that he had little difficulty in flattering the most formidable matrons. Consequently it was a simple matter to bring a tinge of colour to the plump cheeks of the Dowager Lady Deverel whose faint claim to beauty had long since faded.

He had no need to flatter the golden-haired girl seated beside her mother, for she was undoubtedly a diamond of the first water and, unless he much mistook the matter, Miss Drusilla Deverel knew this very well.

‘I apologise, ma’am, if my unexpected arrival has inconvenienced you in any way,’ he remarked, returning his attention to the Dowager, before lowering his tall frame into the chair positioned directly opposite the sofa on which the ladies were seated.

‘Not at all, sir. Two of Drusilla’s friends can easily share a room. Most of our guests are not arriving until tomorrow. But we are expecting several to turn up later today, so I can safely promise some jolly company at dinner.’

‘You sound as if everything is well in hand for the party, Mama,’ Charles remarked, drawing her attention away from the gentleman whose name she had mentally added to the list of those whom she would be very happy to call son-in-law.

‘Oh, yes, dear. Everything is arranged.’

‘And no thanks to Sarah,’ Drusilla put in petulantly, the result of which, her mother noticed, not only brought a swift look of disapproval to her son’s handsome face, but unfortunately drew a slight frown to the very eligible Baron’s intelligent brow.

‘That is hardly fair, dear,’ she countered swiftly. ‘You’ve Sarah to thank for arranging almost everything. And she was even kind enough to give up her room so that you could invite more people than was originally planned.’

‘What’s this?’ her son demanded, suddenly alert. ‘I thought we’d agreed that in the circumstances it was to be only a small affair?’

‘Well, yes, Charles, we did. But you must remember that poor Drusilla has had to forgo the pleasures of a Season. And when we began to make a list of those we knew we simply must invite, the numbers just seemed to swell.’

‘How many have you invited?’ he demanded, frowning suspiciously.

‘One hundred and fifty,’ Drusilla enlightened him, looking very well pleased. ‘It will be a splendid party, not the shabby little affair you had planned, Charles.’

Sebastian, quietly sipping the wine which the butler had kindly handed him, couldn’t resist smiling to himself. Somewhere at the back of his mind he seemed to remember Charles mentioning once that his mother had suffered several miscarriages after having given birth to him, and more than a decade had passed before she had been successfully delivered of another healthy child. Little wonder, then, he mused, that the long awaited second offspring had been cosseted and indulged from birth. It was clear that even now the beauty of the house was all too frequently allowed to have her way; a sorry state of affairs which her brother, if his expression was any indication, would very much like to rectify.

‘Let me remind you, Drusilla, that our father has been dead for less than a year. I consider it in extremely bad taste to hold such a large party, although I suppose it’s far too late to do anything about it now.’

‘Much too late,’ his mother agreed. ‘And you mustn’t concern yourself, Charles. The event might be grander than first planned, but Drusilla knows that she must behave with propriety and not dance.’

Although Sebastian noted the beauty’s resentful expression, her brother evidently did not, for he changed the subject by asking, ‘Where is Sarah, by the way?’

If anything Drusilla appeared even more resentful. ‘She’s staying with the Stapletons. And just when we need her here the most!’

‘Well, you can hardly blame her, my love,’ Lady Deverel soothed. ‘I myself did not quite like the notion of the dear girl sleeping in one of the attic rooms.’

‘What’s this?’ Charles fixed a reproachful look in his mother’s direction. ‘Surely you didn’t expect Sarah to sleep with the servants?’

‘Of course not, dear,’ Lady Deverel swiftly assured him. ‘Sarah herself very obligingly offered to give up her bedchamber, and I was more than happy for her to stay with her friend for a few days, rather than move to one of the attic rooms.’

Sebastian noticed the look of disapproval lingering in his friend’s eyes. As he himself had been an only child, he had never been plagued by troublesome siblings or family squabbles. The closest he had ever come to having a sister was his cousin Caroline, who had been a frequent visitor to his Hampshire home in her childhood.

He had accepted this invitation to stay at the Hall with the gravest misgivings, for he had made a point, since coming into the title, of never accepting invitations to houses where a daughter of marriageable age resided, for the simple reason that seeking a suitable bride had never once entered his thoughts, and he had tried his utmost to avoid raising false hopes in any fond mama’s breast. All the same, he was beginning to think that, apart from the serious aspect of this visit, it might well prove to be an amusing diversion putting up with the Deverels.

Whether or not he would derive the same amount of pleasure out of coming into contact with a certain other young lady again, only time would tell.