Читать книгу An Improper Companion - Anne Herries, Anne Herries - Страница 7

After two hours of uninterrupted work, during which she had become rather dirty, Elizabeth went back to her room to change her clothes. She ought to have worn an apron, and would do so in future, she decided, for many of the books had not been touched for years. She had begun on the shelf that had only a few books and was pleased to discover that they were estate journals, which Lord Cavendish had obviously placed there himself in an effort to make his work easier. She had cleaned them carefully and then put them back on the shelf at the bottom—she thought it might be best to have the older volumes at the top and work downwards. It would then be quite simple to reach up for something when some research into the past was needed. She was pleased with her efforts, though as yet she had not attempted to begin the cataloguing. She would get the estate journals into good order first, before she began on the larger project.

She had just finished changing her clothes when a tap came at the door. She answered it to discover an elderly woman, whom she believed to be Lady Isadora’s personal maid.

‘Miss Travers,’ the woman said. ‘Her ladyship asks if you would be kind enough to visit her in her room this morning.’

‘Yes, of course,’ Elizabeth said. ‘Am I right in thinking it is the room at the far end of the landing?’

‘Yes, miss, that’s right,’ the woman smiled at her. ‘I am Jean Phipps, and I’ve been with her ladyship since before she was married.’

‘Then you must know her very well,’ Elizabeth said. ‘May I come to you if there is anything I need to know concerning Lady Isadora’s preferences?’

‘Yes, miss, of course. I shall be only too pleased to help you if I can—but her ladyship is well looked after. It is young company she needs, if you ask me. It would have been Miss Jane’s eighteenth birthday this year and she has been brooding over it. With Miss Melanie being mistress of her own home, and a mother herself, it has left her ladyship at a loss.’

‘Yes, I can understand that,’ Elizabeth said. ‘Well, I am here now and I shall endeavour to take her mind from her unhappy thoughts.’

‘Oh, she seemed much more cheerful this morning,’ Jean Phipps said. ‘I do not doubt that she will throw off the megrims now that you are here and start to entertain once more.’

Elizabeth nodded to her. They had walked together to Lady Isadora’s rooms, and Miss Phipps indicated that she should go in, which she did, though her companion turned away. As she went into the little sitting room, her ladyship called to her to come through to the room directly behind it. She was sitting at an elegant little desk in her boudoir, a pen in her hand. She rested it on an exquisite French boulle tray, which was made with patterns of intricate silver and gold inlaid into tortoise-shell, and smiled at Elizabeth.

‘I trust it is not too early for you, my dear?’

‘Oh, no, I have been working in the library,’ Elizabeth said. ‘I have made a start with the estate records, which should help Lord Cavendish to find what he needs more easily.’

‘You have been working?’ Lady Isadora looked surprised and then slightly put out. ‘My son is a slave driver. I did not ask you to come here to work yourself to death, Elizabeth dearest.’

‘No, no, I shall not,’ Elizabeth told her with a smile. ‘You must know that I have been accustomed to being busy, and I enjoyed myself. Books are so fascinating, are they not?’

‘Are they?’ Lady Isadora looked so doubtful that Elizabeth laughed.

‘Yes, I assure you that they are for me—and you have such a treasure house here at Cavendish.’

‘Do we?’ Lady Isadora wrinkled her brow. ‘I know Cavendish spent a lot of time visiting sales of old books and was quite excited when he found something special, but it was not an interest we shared—though I believe Daniel has similar tastes.’ She nodded her head. ‘Well, I shall not stop you if it pleases you, Elizabeth—as long as you do not tire yourself.’

‘I shall not, ma’am, and I shall not desert you for the task. It is my habit to rise early and I may easily spend an hour or so in the library in the mornings before breakfast—though Lord Cavendish has asked me to ride with him tomorrow at eight.’

‘The fresh air and exercise will be good for you,’ Lady Isadora said, looking pleased. ‘Now, my dear, do you think you could find your way to the vicarage? I should like you to take a note for me. I wish to ask the Reverend Bell to dine with us tomorrow evening. I can send one of the servants, of course, but I thought you might like to become acquainted with the vicar and perhaps discuss the flowers for the church.’

‘Yes, I should very much like to do that,’ Elizabeth said, ‘but is there anything I may do for you before I go?’

‘Oh, no, I shall not come down for another two hours or so,’ Lady Isadora said, waving her hand vaguely. ‘Please feel free to consider the mornings your own, Elizabeth.’

Elizabeth thanked her, for it was much as she had expected. She took the note Lady Isadora had given her and went out. As she walked along the landing she met Amy, who told her that she had taken a pot of tea and some bread, butter and honey to her room.

‘I wasn’t sure if you would want breakfast downstairs, miss. Her ladyship has just a pot of chocolate and some biscuits in bed at about half past nine…’

‘As you have no doubt discovered, I am always up much earlier. But I do not wish to cause more work for the household—something in my room at about this time would be agreeable, unless you are setting the breakfast room for his lordship? I could just as easily take mine downstairs.’

‘Yes, miss. While his lordship is here we set breakfast at about nine o’clock, when he comes in from his ride.’

‘Then shall we say that I will breakfast downstairs when there are guests or his lordship is in residence, and in my room at other times?’

‘Yes, miss.’ Amy looked pleased. ‘That’s thoughtful of you, though it would be no trouble to do whatever you want.’

‘I shall have my breakfast before I leave,’ Elizabeth said. ‘But then I intend to walk to the vicarage—could you tell me the easiest way to get there?’

‘Yes, of course, miss. It is close to the church, and that is just across the meadow behind the house. That’s the quickest way when it’s dry as it is now. Though in the winter it is best to follow the road to the village, but that is the long way round and you would do better to go in the carriage.’

Elizabeth thanked her. They parted and she went to her room, drinking a cup of tea and eating two of the delicious freshly baked soft rolls with butter and honey.

Within half an hour she was wearing her pelisse and bonnet and heading for the meadow, which was at the back of the house. It was a pleasant morning, the sun peeping out from behind a few fluffy clouds, and the grass perfectly dry beneath her sensible black boots. She could hear a lark singing and looked up to see it perched in the branches of an oak tree at the edge of the meadow. She had a feeling of content, of being at home, for she had often performed such chores for her mother, and it was almost as if the grief of the past months had never been.

As she reached the church, she saw a tall, thin, black-gowned man leaving, and guessed that he was probably the person she had come to see. He was wearing a flat, wide-brimmed hat, which he doffed as she addressed him, to reveal hair that was sandy red.

‘Reverend Bell?’ Elizabeth asked. ‘I have come from Lady Isadora with a note.’

‘Ah, yes,’ he said holding his hat to his breast. He had serious grey eyes and a gentle face. ‘You will be Miss Travers, I make no doubt. Her ladyship has spoken of you to me. I am pleased to meet you.’ He put his hat back on and offered to shake hands with her, a faint colour in his cheeks. ‘It was good of you to walk all the way down here.’

‘It is not so very far. At home the church was much further from the house, but I often walked there on fine days,’ Elizabeth said. ‘Besides, I wanted to meet you, sir. Lady Isadora tells me you are in need of flowers for the church.’

‘I should be grateful if we could have some for next Sunday,’ he said. ‘We are having a special service for one of my oldest parishioners who has lately recovered from a severe illness, and it is a service of thanksgiving, you see. I like to see flowers in the church as often as it can be managed and sometimes one of my parishioners will bring a few—but I should like more. And then we are to have a flower festival next month, and I was hoping that Lady Isadora would contribute substantially. We shall attract visitors if there is a good display and it raises money for good causes—as do the fêtes and bazaars we hold several times a year.’

‘Yes, I see,’ Elizabeth said. He was clearly very dedicated to his parish and to the good causes he supported. ‘Well, now that I am here, I shall be pleased to help you in any way I can. I shall certainly ask the gardeners about a supply of flowers for the church, though I must be ruled by what they can spare, of course—but when it comes to the bazaars, I shall help as often as I may. I have some free time in the mornings.’

‘If you are sincere in wishing to be of help I should be most grateful,’ he told her. ‘We have various stalls and any contributions are welcome, either your own work—or items from the attics at Cavendish that are no longer required. And on the day, if you could be spared to help on one of the stalls, it would be much appreciated.’

‘Well, we shall see,’ Elizabeth told him. ‘I cannot say what might be spared from the attics, but I shall certainly tell Lady Isadora of your needs.’ She smiled at him, little knowing the effect she was having on a man still only in his middle twenties who had been lonely for the past several months. ‘And may I tell her that you will give us your company tomorrow evening? I believe there are some others invited.’

‘Yes, of course,’ he said, beaming at her. ‘I should not dream of refusing her ladyship. Besides, there is always a good dinner to be had at Cavendish; though one should not consider such things, it makes a pleasant change.’

Elizabeth guessed that he was not used to fine cooking in his present circumstances, and felt some sympathy for him. A young man in his situation needed a wife, and he had been unlucky to lose his so early in his marriage, and the child too.

‘Oh, I believe well-prepared food is something we may all hope for,’ she said. ‘Though I suppose when you think of the starving we should not grumble if we are fed sufficient.’

‘You speak very truly, Miss Travers. It is a delight to me to hear a young lady of quality speak so thoughtfully, for so many think only of their own pleasures. Not that I wish to judge them, of course—but sometimes one sees such frivolity…’ He shook his head. ‘One would not wish to deny others pleasure—but there are so many in need, you see.’

‘Yes, of course, I do see,’ Elizabeth told him. ‘I believe in helping others less fortunate than ourselves—but surely we all deserve a little pleasure in our lives, sir?’

‘You are right to censure me,’ Reverend Bell said. ‘I should not be critical of others because they have so much—but I cannot always help myself when I know of the great need in the world.’

‘But you want to do too much,’ Elizabeth told him with a gentle smile. ‘Do you not think that we must be satisfied to do what good we can? You are only one man and the cares of your parish are heavy enough. You cannot right the wrongs of the world. Only God may do that, I think.’

‘How well you understand me,’ he said, struck by her words. ‘You are very right, I do take too much upon myself at times. I must learn humility, Miss Travers.’

‘I think you are very well as you are, sir,’ she said, for she liked him. His earnest desire to help others, and his willingness to listen, were traits that must be admired in any man. ‘It is good to strive in the cause of others, but we must accept our limitations and not despair that we cannot cure all ills. Do you not agree?’

‘Yes, indeed. What a sensible, caring young lady you are,’ he said approvingly. ‘I am glad to have had this opportunity to talk to you, Miss Travers, and I shall look forward to furthering our acquaintance.’

‘As I shall,’ Elizabeth assured him. ‘And now I must go—it will soon be time for nuncheon and I must not keep Lady Isadora waiting.’

‘No, no, of course not. Good day to you, Miss Travers. I shall see you tomorrow evening, I hope?’

‘Yes, certainly,’ Elizabeth said. ‘It will be an opportunity for me to meet others of Lady Isadora’s friends.’

She took her leave of him, setting off across the meadow at a good pace. As she did so, she saw a young lady heading towards the church and heard her call to the reverend, but she did not look back for the time was slipping away and she did not wish to be late for nuncheon.

Lady Isadora came down for nuncheon, which was served at some twenty minutes past the hour of noon. It was a light meal of cold meat, thin bread and butter and some pickles, followed if one wished for it by a lemon-flavoured custard. However, the earl, who had gone out on estate business and was not expected to return until the evening, did not join them.

After lunch they repaired to the small parlour at the back of the house. From its long windows there was a pleasant view of the gardens, and beyond them the meadow and the church spire in the distance.

‘Now we can be comfortable,’ Lady Isadora said, smiling at her. ‘Shall we do a little embroidery, I wonder? Or shall you read to me while I stitch?’

‘Have you your embroidery with you, ma’am?’

‘It is in that worktable. Pull out the compartment at the bottom and you will discover a hanging I have been working on for the church. At least, I began it, but I must confess that Miss Ridley—Helen—has done most of it for me. But do pull it out, Elizabeth dear, and let us see what remains to be done.’

Elizabeth did as she was bid, and discovered that Lady Isadora and her former companion had been working on what was clearly intended to be an altar cloth. It was an ambitious project and the work was very fine, but it would need an ambitious needlewoman to complete such a task.

‘It is rather lovely,’ Elizabeth said. ‘The silks are a little tangled, but I can soon sort them for you—though it would be done sooner if we worked on it together.’

‘I do not think I care to embroider today,’ Lady Isadora decided. ‘What have you brought to read this afternoon?’

‘I have here a book of poems, Shakespeare’s The Taming of the Shrew—or Fanny Burney’s novel…’

‘I enjoyed Mrs Burney’s Evelina, but I do not care for some of her later work. I think I should enjoy a little of Shakespeare’s play,’ Lady Isadora said. ‘If you could bear to read that?’

‘It is most amusing,’ Elizabeth agreed. ‘I love the struggle between Petruccio and Kate.’

‘Yes, indeed,’ Lady Isadora said and lay back against the silken cushions on her sofa. ‘Please begin when you feel ready, my dear.’

Elizabeth opened the book and began to read. She had a pleasant voice, and put expression into her reading. In actual fact she acted out each part, and after a few minutes Lady Isadora sat up, laughing, her face animated and eager.

‘Oh, my dear!’ she exclaimed. ‘I declare it is the equal of being at the theatre to hear you. Helen only read the words, but you put so much expression into them. But I am interrupting you. Please do continue. I had forgotten how wonderful it was to hear William Shakespeare’s words spoken with feeling.’

Elizabeth continued to read for almost an hour, after which Lady Isadora rang for tea, for as she said Elizabeth’s throat must be dry.

‘It has been such a joy to me,’ she told her young companion. ‘I shall look forward to continuing tomorrow—but I must not tire you. Now we shall relax and talk, my dear. Tell me, what did you think of the Reverend Bell?’

‘He seems both pleasant and dedicated to his calling,’ Elizabeth said. ‘I liked him—and I have promised to help where I can. I felt a little sad for him, knowing that he had lost his wife and child. A man in his position needs a wife—do you not think so?’

‘Yes, perhaps,’ Lady Isadora said, frowning a little. ‘I think Miss Giles might like to fill that position, though perhaps she is a little too silly for his taste.’

‘Miss Giles?’

‘You will meet Julia tomorrow evening. Her parents are neighbours—Sir Henry and Lady Giles. They have an estate no more than six miles to the south of Cavendish. They are, in fact, our nearest neighbours.’

‘I see,’ Elizabeth said. ‘Their estate cannot then be far from the village?’

‘No, it is not more than three miles, I dare say. Why do you ask, my dear?’

‘Oh, merely curiosity,’ Elizabeth told her. ‘Do you see the family often?’

‘Lady Giles calls now and then, but she prefers London or Bath to the country. They are planning on a Season for Julia this year…’

‘I see,’ Elizabeth said. ‘No doubt Miss Giles is looking forward to the trip.’

‘Yes, I expect so. I find London too tiring myself, but I shall enjoy a few weeks at Brighton in the summer—and of course we may go to Bath in the autumn.’

‘I am sure the sea air will do you good, ma’am,’ Elizabeth said. ‘I have never—’

What she was about to say was lost, for through the French windows she saw a sight that put everything else from her mind. Two men were walking across the lawns towards the parlour, one supporting the other, their footsteps uneven and awkward. Jumping to her feet, Elizabeth went to open the French door, for she could see that something was wrong. One of them was either hurt or ill and she sensed that help was imperative.

‘Miss Travers,’ the earl called to her. ‘Thank you for seeing our need. I fear that Mr Elworthy has been shot through the shoulder. I think the wound is not serious, but we must get him to bed and the doctor must attend him immediately.’

‘What is wrong?’ Lady Isadora had followed Elizabeth out to the terrace, and now gave a cry of alarm. ‘Daniel—what happened? You haven’t done anything foolish, I hope?’

‘John was shot at from behind as he rode here to visit me,’ Daniel said. ‘I dare say it was a careless poacher. Fortunately, I returned sooner than I had planned and discovered him lying in the road. He has lost a lot of blood and is barely conscious.’

‘Please ring for the servants, ma’am,’ Elizabeth said to Lady Isadora. She went to the other side of Mr Elworthy and put her arm about his waist, taking some of the weight on to herself and earning a surprised look of gratitude from the earl. ‘Come, sir. We must get you upstairs as easily as we can for your wound has bled and needs attention.’ Glancing over her shoulder at her employer, she added, ‘Please send Amy up to me with linen and salves, for this wound must be bound until the doctor arrives.’

‘Yes…of course.’ Lady Isadora rang the bell hastily. Elizabeth had an unconscious air of command about her, seeming to be completely in control of the situation, whereas she felt that she might faint if Mr Elworthy continued to drip blood on to her parlour floor. ‘Please, do whatever you feel necessary, my dear.’

Elizabeth did not respond. She was concentrating all her efforts on assisting the earl to get Mr Elworthy into the hall, where she saw a young, broad-shouldered footman lingering. He looked at them uncertainly.

‘Please,’ she said. ‘You have more strength than I, sir—help his lordship carry Mr Elworthy up the stairs. I shall go ahead and prepare the bed.’ She passed her share of the burden to the young man and ran on ahead. At the top of the stairs she met the housekeeper about to come down, and asked which bedchamber was available for an invalid.

‘This way, Miss Travers. The room has been cleaned only this morning, and is suitable for a gentleman,’ the woman replied, understanding the problem immediately.

Elizabeth followed her inside the guest bedchamber and together they pulled back the covers so that when the gentlemen entered—the strong, young footman now carrying Mr Elworthy in his arms—they were able to lay him straight onto the clean linen. The injured man gave a sigh and his eyelids fluttered open for a moment, his eyes looking into hers.

Elizabeth bent over him, stroking back a lock of hair from his sweating brow. ‘You are safe now, sir,’ she told him in a gentle voice. ‘I shall bind your wound for you and then you will feel easier until the doctor comes.’ She turned as Amy came in, carrying some linen and salves, followed by another young girl bearing a jug of water. ‘Ah, good,’ Elizabeth said. ‘Did either of you think to bring some scissors?’