Читать книгу Four Regency Rogues - Энни Берроуз, Annie Burrows - Страница 13
ОглавлениеLady Ratcliffe was decidedly put out when she discovered next day that Charlotte intended to go to the mill as usual and she was again wearing the strange dress that had so appalled her. ‘I will try to come home early,’ Charlotte said. ‘We can talk over our plans for the ball then.’
‘What am I to do all day?’ Her ladyship was still in bed, sitting up drinking a dish of hot chocolate that Charlotte had brought herself. It was, she averred, an indecent time to be woken. ‘Surely you can give the mill a miss until we have come to some decisions. You will never pass muster as a lady while you insist on racketing about in that dreadful outfit.’
‘I must go, but I will be back in time for nuncheon and then I will change and take you round the village. We will call on Lady Brandon and the Countess of Amerleigh. I am persuaded you will deal well with them both.’
‘You are on calling terms with a Countess! Charlotte, you never told me that last night.’
‘It must have slipped my mind. If you want something to do this morning, you could make shopping lists of everything you think we need for the ball and there is no necessity to spare my purse.’ And with that, she kissed her great-aunt’s cheek and left to drive herself to the mill.
They were getting low on some yarns, but as everything seemed to be working smoothly, she did not stay long. Instead of going up to the mine as she would normally have done, she went to Amerleigh Hall to take her place in the schoolroom alongside Tommy and Roland. Both expressed delight that she could join them again.
She knew she was being inconsistent. From doing all she could to avoid the Earl she now seemed anxious to seek his company. It might have been her interest in Tommy and the lessons, but that was not the whole of it. She had had a change of heart. She wanted to get to know Roland, to discover the man beneath the aristocrat, to delve below the facade and understand why he was the man he was and how much he had changed in the course of six long years of war. The lessons were a means of doing that; they had at least one thing in common and that was a love of children. When she was with children she felt different; she could relax with them and forget business for a little while. Roland Temple gave every appearance of feeling the same. He was not above sitting on tiny chairs or even squatting on the floor to be closer to them and they were not overawed by him.
‘We are learning the signs for some useful daily phrases, Miss Cartwright,’ Miles told her. ‘Things like “I am hungry” and “Hurry up” and “It is time for dinner”.’
‘And “I am pleased to see you”,’ Roland added, pointing at his own eyes and then at her and smiling broadly.
‘We will not speak aloud at all,’ Miles admonished.
The lesson continued amid much hilarity, but they did not forget that it was Tommy who was being taught and he was included in everything they attempted. His mother had not stayed with him today; one of the little ones was unwell and she had returned to the sickbed.
‘I will take him home,’ Charlotte said when the lesson ended. ‘I can ask after the sick one at the same time.’ She turned to Tommy and successfully made him understand he was to go to the stables and have her curricle brought to the door. Grinning from ear to ear, he sped off to do her bidding.
‘We are making great strides,’ Miles said. ‘Far better than I had hoped for, but I wonder at you both treating it so lightly.’
‘You said yourself we must make it seem like play,’ Roland said as they made their way down to the ground floor. ‘He is happy about the lessons and learning fast. We shall soon be able to move on to teaching him to read and write. That will open a whole new vista for him.’
‘You would make a scholar of him?’ Charlotte queried.
‘Why not? Every child, however poor, deserves an education. I know you agree with that, for you teach your workers.’ He paused and gave her a smile that found its way to treacly brown eyes and crinkled the corners of his mouth. ‘I am persuaded we have more in common than we have in dissent, Miss Cartwright.’
They had arrived in the front hall and she did not point out that he was the one causing dissent by insisting on continuing with that lawsuit. If he would only hint that he might drop it, she would gladly come to some accommodation with him, give him the title to the land and retain the mining rights perhaps. But he had to make the first move.
The door was open and Tommy stood at the head of the pony, waiting for her. ‘Will you not stay for refreshment?’ Roland asked. ‘We could explore the common ground.’
‘No, I am afraid I cannot. I have a guest and must return to Mandeville or she will think I have deserted her.’ She paused. ‘Do you know if the Countess is at home this afternoon? I thought of calling on her with my great-aunt.’
‘I believe she may be. If not, she will be here. You are welcome at either place.’
‘Thank you, my lord.’
She signalled to Tommy to climb into the curricle, bowed her head to Roland and Miles, and made her way down the steps to join the boy.
Roland watched her drive away, as capable as ever at handling the ribbons, and gave a huge sigh. Was he making any progress at demolishing the wall she had built about herself? She had seemed more at ease today and the fact that she wanted to pay a call on his mother must mean something. He had better go and see what Mama was doing that afternoon.
Roland was with the Countess at the dower house when Lady Ratcliffe and Charlotte, who was dressed becomingly in a pale blue muslin gown with a lace cape and puffed sleeves, were announced. His presence took Charlotte by surprise, but it was no greater than Lady Ratcliffe’s astonishment on being presented and discovering that there was a handsome young Earl living not five miles from Mandeville. She quickly established he was not married and lacked nothing in manners. Whatever was Charlotte thinking of, not to cultivate so eligible a bachelor right on her doorstep?
‘What do you think of Amerleigh?’ the Countess asked her, dispensing tea.
‘It is very pleasant, my lady, and the countryside is charming. At least it is at this time of the year. I collect it is not so agreeable in winter.’
‘No, it was particularly bad in the early part of this year. We were cut off by snow for weeks.’
‘How long do you stay, my lady?’ Roland asked. He was sitting on a high-backed chair, while the ladies occupied the sofas. It made him appear even taller.
‘As long as I am needed.’
‘Needed?’ he queried, looking at Charlotte with one eyebrow raised.
‘Oh, yes. My great-niece is needful of my assistance in the matter of a ball and her come-out.’
Roland, who had been about to take a sip of his tea, spluttered with laughter. His mother looked anxiously at him and Lady Ratcliffe looked affronted. As for Charlotte, she was at first inclined to be angry, but then found her own lips twitching. ‘I never said anything about a come-out, Aunt,’ she said.
‘You cannot have a ball without coming out first,’ her ladyship insisted. ‘It is not the thing. Am I not right, Countess?’
Lady Amerleigh appeared to be considering her answer carefully and her eyes were twinkling too. Charlotte wondered if her aunt was being made fun of, but decided the Countess was much too polite to do such a thing. ‘In London, yes,’ her ladyship said slowly. ‘But we are far from the capital here and Miss Cartwright’s circumstances are exceptional.’
‘So they may be, but if she is to marry well, then we must do the thing properly.’
‘I will not go to London,’ Charlotte said firmly. ‘I am far too busy to contemplate it; besides, I have no wish to marry and would look very foolish among all the young débutantes.’
‘I think we may safely assume Miss Cartwright is already well and truly out,’ Roland put in, looking at Charlotte with a teasing smile that told her plainly she had not heard the last of that particular topic from him. She must extricate herself somehow and take her aunt away before she made an even bigger fool of herself.
‘Lady Ratcliffe has come to help me arrange a costume ball,’ she said. ‘I have been persuaded I ought to give one, but I do not have the time to devote to organising it.’
‘When is it to be?’ the Countess asked.
‘I have not decided the date. It depends on so many things, but perhaps the last Saturday in June. Would that be convenient for you, my lady?’
‘I am still in mourning, Miss Cartwright.’
‘Yes, but it will be six months since your husband died—could you not go into half-mourning and grace it with your presence, even for a short time? No one will think ill of you for it.’
‘Oh, go on, say yes, Mama,’ Roland put in.
‘I will think about it.’
Having successfully diverted attention from the matter of a come-out, Charlotte decided it was time they took their leave and rose to go. Roland accompanied them to the door and was surprised to see, not the curricle and its patient pony, but a grand carriage and four. First the feminine dress and now the carriage—did it mean Charlotte was trying to change? He was not sure he liked the idea. He bowed to Lady Ratcliffe as he handed her in and then turned to do the same office for Charlotte, taking her hand and giving the fingers a little squeeze, as he did so. The door was shut and he stood back as the coachman set the equipage in motion. Charlotte, leaning forward to look out of the window, saw him standing in exactly the same pose, feet apart, hand slightly uplifted, the wind ruffling his hair, until they turned out of the drive and he was lost to view.
‘My goodness, Charlotte,’ Emily said. ‘I had heard of the Earl of Amerleigh, but I had no idea he was so young and handsome, nor that he resided in Shropshire. And so near to you too. I collect he is unmarried.’
‘He has but lately come into his inheritance, Aunt. Before that he was in the army in Portugal. His late father let the estate run down, but he is busy setting all to rights.’ She paused. ‘And you may take that gleam out of your eye. I am not going to set myself up to snare him. We are at daggers drawn.’
‘Daggers drawn! I saw no sign of that. He appeared good-natured and polite…’
‘So he may be, but I have not always found it so. He can also be top lofty and obstinate.’
Her ladyship laughed. ‘I think the kettle is calling the pot black, my dear.’
‘Perhaps, but I do not want you matchmaking. There is enough of that going on in the village already and the poor man is besieged.’
‘Ah, so he is a poor man, is he?’
‘I have no idea of his wealth, but he is spending a great deal of money restoring Amerleigh Hall and the estate.’
‘Ready for his Countess.’
‘Possibly.’
‘Would you not like to be a Countess?’
‘I never thought of it, being ineligible.’
‘On account of not being aristocratic enough? Wealth can overcome that, you know, especially if the young man is short of funds.’
‘Not that young man, Aunt,’ Charlotte said very firmly, reminded of his rejection of her six years before, just when she was beginning to push it to the back of her mind. ‘Roland Temple will not be bought and I will not stoop to try it. I do not want to marry. If I did, I would have to hand over all I own to my husband, who could ruin everything if he so chose and I could not do a thing to prevent it. And I should lose my independence, the freedom to please myself what I do, where I go, what I choose to spend my money on. I would be no better than a chattel.’
‘How hard you are, child. It is your father made you like that, for your mother never was. A gentler creature never breathed. But she could be stubborn too. We all told her she would rue the day she married your father, but she would not listen. Two years later she was dead, God rest her soul.’
‘That was not Papa’s fault. I believe he idolised her.’
‘I am surprised he did not make a push to see you settled before he died. He should have given you a Season. I would have been pleased to have you stay with me and brought you out myself. Now, we must try to remedy the situation before it is too late.’
‘Aunt, it is already too late. I simply want to give a masked ball. Everyone of consequence in the area has been getting up lavish entertainment to celebrate the end of the war and I do not want to be the odd one out. I want my ball to be the best, the most sumptuous, the most talked about in the whole county. And I do not care what it costs.’
Lady Ratcliffe turned to Charlotte in surprise and realised there was more to this than the holding of a ball. Her niece had suddenly become aware of what she had missed in her youth and her ladyship was prepared to gamble it had a great deal to do with the Earl of Amerleigh. She smiled to herself; she had not arrived a moment too soon.
Their next call was on Lady Brandon, who was a very different being from the Countess. She was a prattler, full of herself and her family, of Martha in particular who had so cleverly attracted the attentions of the Earl of Amerleigh. ‘Have you met the Earl, my lady?’ she asked Emily.
‘Yes, he was with the Countess when we called. A very personable young man.’
‘Oh, yes, he is, is he not? Somewhat pinched in the pocket, I understand, though that is of little account. Brandon has told him that Martha is an heiress in her own right. He is very particular in his attentions to her, you know, and we are hopeful of a happy outcome very soon.’ She turned to Charlotte. ‘Have you decided on the ball?’
‘Yes, it is why I have asked my aunt to stay. She is going to organise it for me.’ She kept her voice carefully controlled, though Lady Brandon’s confidence was making her wonder how far matters had really gone between the Earl and Martha.
‘Indeed, I am surprised, considering I offered to help you,’ the lady said huffily. ‘I would have taken all the hard work out of it for you.’
Charlotte realised her friend’s show of hurt was on account of not being able to boast that Miss Cartwright had no idea how to organise a ball and without her help it would have been a very sorry affair indeed. ‘I am sure you would, Catherine,’ she said carefully. ‘But I know you are very busy yourself, but no doubt Aunt Emily will be glad of any help you can afford her.’
‘Tell me, is the Earl really going to offer for her daughter?’ Emily asked, when they were once more on their way.
‘I have no idea. It is none of my business.’
‘Then you must make it your business.’
‘Certainly not!’ Charlotte exclaimed.
‘I shall make it mine to find out.’
‘No doubt everyone will find out in due course. At the moment I am more concerned with making my ball a success.’
‘Very well, let us talk about the ball, considering you have given me less that three weeks to have everything ready. If you want to have a full ballroom, the sooner you issue the invitations the better. Have you made a list?’ Emily asked.
‘I have made a start.’
‘Good. Have you decided on any of the other necessities: musicians, food and drink, flowers, extra staff, your own costume?’
‘No, that is why I asked you to help me. Apart from choosing my costume, you may have the ordering of it all.’
‘Then we had best go into Shrewsbury tomorrow and make a start,’ Emily announced.
‘You go. Take Lady Brandon with you. She knows all the best shops. I have to go to the mill.’
‘Charlotte, I despair of you,’ her ladyship said. ‘Do you never think of anything but work?’
‘Of course I do, but it is a particularly difficult time at the moment. We have a large order to fulfil and I am waiting on a consignment of cotton yarn from the spinners that is late. I must chase up our suppliers.’
She forgot all about the ball when she arrived at the mill next morning to be told that the yarn had still not arrived. ‘I sent over to Langhams and they said the raw cotton had not arrived from Liverpool,’ William Brock told her. Mr Langham, who conducted his business from premises just outside Shrewsbury, employed an army of spinners who turned the raw cotton into yarn, which he was contracted to pass on to Cartwright’s for weaving. ‘I am told the Fair Charlie is overdue. There have been storms at sea.’
Running short had never happened before, but the Fair Charlie had never been delayed by more than a few days before, and she had taken on more orders than usual. She had been remiss in not making provision for such an eventuality and realised, to her chagrin, that she had allowed herself to become distracted by the Earl of Amerleigh and the social events in the village, which she had never previously bothered with, not to mention indulging herself going to Tommy’s lessons when she should have been at work. ‘There are always storms at sea. I came through one myself not three months since. The ship has always been able to weather them.’
‘Then let us hope that it will do so this time.’
She mulled over the possibilities and remedies as she drove back to Mandeville. If the ship did not come in soon, she would have to find an alternative source of supply to keep the weavers busy.
At home again, she found Lady Ratcliffe entertaining Lady Brandon to tea and going over long lists of things they had ordered and others they still needed. As the money for it was not coming out of their purses, they had been more than extravagant, but considering she had said she did not care how much the ball cost, she made no comment on it.
‘What about your costume?’ Lady Brandon asked her. ‘Have you given a thought to it?’
‘Not yet.’
‘We discovered a place in Shrewsbury that has all manner of costumes for rent. I have chosen mine and so has Martha. Why not go there?’
‘I will see what they have to offer when I go into town next time.’
* * *
The next week was a worrying time and she could not give her mind to her costume or even to the ball, but as the two ladies more than made up for her deficiency, the arrangements were coming along nicely, which was more than could be said for the work at the mill. Rumours were flying round that the Fair Charlie had been lost and, when there was no more yarn to weave, all the workers would be laid off. It took all her time to reassure her workforce that such was not the case, especially as the supplies in the stockroom were dwindling to an alarming degree. Mr Brock had taken it upon himself to discharge one man, an overseer called Josh Younger, who was intent on exaggerating the rumours. ‘He was making everyone discontented,’ Brock told her when she questioned his decision. ‘I had no choice.’
There was nothing for it but to go to Liverpool and find out what was happening herself.
‘You can’t go now,’ Emily complained when she told her. ‘You will not be back in time for the ball.’
‘Of course I will. It is over a week away and you have everything in hand. I shall be gone no longer than I have to be.’
‘Who is to go with you?’
‘No one, except Talbot to drive the coach.’
‘Charlotte, ladies do not travel around the countryside unaccompanied. Anything could happen.’
‘I am not a lady, nor ever will be.’
She pretended not to hear her great-aunt’s murmur, ‘You will be if I have anything to do with it,’ as she left the room to give orders for the coach to be readied and a groom sent ahead on horseback to arrange post horses.
* * *
Roland had not seen Charlotte for days. She had not attended the lessons, nor even been seen in the village. He missed her. He missed their wrangling, her chuckle of humour as she bested him in some argument. He missed her gentle care of Tommy, her understanding of the boy’s needs, her fire when roused. And he enjoyed rousing her.
‘Why not go and see if anything is wrong?’ his mother suggested, when he voiced his concern. She had come up to the Hall to supervise the hanging of new curtains in the drawing room and they were enjoying a break for refreshment.
‘Why would there be anything wrong? She is no doubt too busy organising the ball.’
‘Then you have answered your own question. However, it is not only the ball, but her business that keeps her. I have heard rumours…’
‘Rumours? What rumours?’
‘The Cartwright mill is having trouble keeping the looms supplied with yarn.’
‘Who told you that?’
‘Lady Brandon, who had it from her husband.’
‘Charlotte cannot possibly be in financial trouble, can she?’
His mother shrugged. ‘I would hardly think so. This ball of hers must be costing a fortune and she is too levelheaded to waste money on frivolities when it is needed elsewhere.’
‘You do not think it can be Browhill that is draining her resources?’
‘Who is to tell? If it is, you could put a stop to it in an instant. That is, if you want to. Or perhaps you would like to see her ruined.’
‘Of course not. Mama, how could you think it?’
‘Then give up this vendetta. I wish your papa had never started it.’
His mother did not wish it any more heartily than he did. He and Charlotte seemed to have established a rapport, but if her business failed, those who decried women trying to do the work of men would make a laughing stock of her. He realised quite suddenly that he would hate that to happen to her. But he could not believe the rumours were true—she was too well established. ‘I told Mountford an age ago not to proceed.’
‘Did you?’ she asked in surprise. ‘Have you told Miss Cartwright that?’
‘No, I left it to him to do so.’
‘He might have an interest in forgetting his instructions. He was your father’s man, you know, and he blames himself for advising your father to hand over the land. Perhaps he is hanging on, hoping to redeem himself.’
‘I had not thought of that. I might as well go and see Miss Cartwright now, though if I know her, she will pretend complete indifference and tell me she never doubted the land was hers and she intended to open that new level notwithstanding.’
He left Miles teaching Tommy and set off for Mandeville, where he was received by a worried Lady Ratcliffe. ‘I am so glad you came,’ she told him, rushing forward to meet him. ‘My great-niece has gone to Liverpool with no escort but the coachman. I cannot think that it is safe for her to go off alone like that, but she was determined and would not listen to reason. And by all accounts it is not the sort of place a lady should be wandering alone in, what with common sailors and all manner of foreign people who land there. You will go after her, won’t you, dear Lord Temple? I cannot think of anyone else I can trust.’ This was said in a breathless rush and she had put her hand on his sleeve to emphasise her words, but let it go to fish for her handkerchief in the pocket of her skirt and dab at her eyes.
‘Of course,’ he said, his head whirring with how it could be done. ‘When did she leave?’
‘First thing this morning.’
‘Then she has a good start. Do you know whereabouts in Liverpool she was going?’
‘To the docks. That is the worst of it. Her ship is overdue…’
‘Do not worry, my lady. I will find her and see she comes to no harm.’
‘Oh, thank you, thank you. That is such a relief to me.’
He took his leave and did not see her tears turn to smiles as soon as the door had closed on him.
He rode back to the Hall at a gallop, where he went over the route with Travers and sent him ahead to arrange the post horses, then he ordered Bennett to harness the coach and went in search of his mother. She was in the schoolroom, watching Miles teaching Tommy. He put his finger to his lips and beckoned to her. She tiptoed out. ‘What is the matter, Roland?’
‘I hope nothing, but Miss Cartwright has gone off to Liverpool on her own and Lady Ratcliffe is in a stew over it.’
‘So you are off to Liverpool after her,’ she said, following him to his room and watching as he stuffed nightwear and a change of clothes into a carpet bag. She took them from him and started to pack it properly.
‘Yes. I was planning to go in any case. We need new wainscot for the dining room. It is badly worm-eaten and there is no one locally who can provide the quality we need. If Miss Cartwright wants to know why I have followed her, I can say my being there is pure coincidence. If need be, I will rack up with Geoffrey.’
‘Rack up—Roland, what a common way of putting it,’ she said, laughing. ‘You can hardly call one of Geoffrey’s bedrooms a rack.’
His cousin, Geoffrey Temple, had made a fortune through the war providing uniforms for the army. He was also Roland’s heir. But that was the last thing on his mind as he kissed his mother goodbye and hurried out to where Bennett waited with the carriage.
‘Spring ’em,’ he told him, as he flung his bag on the seat and himself after it.
He would need at least five changes of horses if he was to make good speed and he hoped the corporal’s persuasive tongue and the hefty purse he had given him would ensure they were ready every time he stopped. Even then he did not expect to arrive before nine or ten that evening and Charlotte had half a day’s start on him; he would have to look for her the next day, though what he would say to her when he met her, he did not know. He did not think she would welcome him with the same degree of relief that Lady Ratcliffe had displayed; she was far too independent.
But supposing she were in trouble, supposing her stubbornness to cut that new level at Browhill had been done simply to pique him? If it was, then she was not the hardheaded businesswoman she pretended to be. Miles had said she was vulnerable and perhaps he was right. Roland felt a weight of guilt that made him realise their bickering was not a game and could have direful consequences. His one aim now was to find her and reassure her. The journey seemed endless.
Geoffrey’s mansion on the outskirts of Liverpool was a showcase for fine furniture, ornaments and pictures, but he was a good-natured man and received Roland enthusiastically, ordering supper for him and telling him he could stay as long as he liked.
‘Thank you, but I think one night will see my business done.’
‘Tell me about Amerleigh,’ Geoffrey said, watching Roland eat. He had had nothing since breakfast and was hungry. ‘How is your mama? I was there for the late Earl’s funeral. A sad occasion and the Hall in a sorry state.’
‘Yes.’ He could do nothing about Charlotte until the next day and had to curb his impatience to answer his cousin. ‘Mama is well and enjoying refurbishing the Hall.’
‘Good. Tell me what you have done and what about the people? They must have been glad to see you again.’
They joined Geoffrey’s wife, Elizabeth, in the drawing room and he spent the next two hours talking about Amerleigh and the villagers, and the longer he talked, the more he realised just how much it all meant to him. Everything. The Hall, the village, the people like the Biggs family, especially Tommy. And Charlotte, of course. He could not imagine life without her. Where was she? Would he be able to find her?
He rose early the following day and, leaving his carriage and horses in Geoffrey’s stables, took a cab to the docks. Liverpool had become a very busy port, beginning to rival Bristol in the number of ships that put in there, much of it down to slave trading, though now that had been outlawed, the ships carried manufactured goods and the only human cargoes were emigrants. The dock basin was a forest of masts and several ships were loading and unloading at the quayside. The Fair Charlie was well known and he soon learned that it was more than two weeks overdue. Miss Cartwright had been there the day before, he was told at the harbour master’s office, but they had no idea where she went after leaving them.
He stood looking about him at the throng of people—dock workers, sailors, voyagers. Where next? What would he do in similar circumstances? Keeping the workforce supplied with raw materials must be her first consideration. He set off for the dockside warehouses. After plodding from one to the other, he finally tracked her down. There was no mistaking her working dress and the chestnut hair blowing about her face. She was pushing it out of her eyes with her hand and talking fast and furiously to a man standing beside a stack of bales of cotton. Roland walked slowly towards her. She had not seen him and continued to argue with the man. ‘How much will you take for it?’
‘Naught. It’s bought and paid for and only waits on the barges to deliver it.’
‘I’ll give you more, and you can take the cargo of the Fair Charlie when it arrives. Sugar from my plantation, cotton and tobacco from America.’
‘If it arrives,’ he said with heavy emphasis. ‘I am not a gambling man, missus. Now, you go home to your husband and leave business matters to him.’
‘Husband!’ She was furious. ‘Do you know who I am?’
‘No, nor do I care.’
Roland stepped forward. ‘Mind your manners, sir. You are talking to a lady.’
Charlotte swivelled round to face him, her face a picture of astonishment, quickly followed by an expression of irritation, while the cotton trader turned to him in evident relief. ‘Ladies should keep out of what don’t concern them.’
‘This lady is the owner of Cartwright’s mill.’
‘I care not what she owns. I do not break a binding contract for anyone—I’d never get another. Take her away, back to her embroidery, and explain to her it cannot be done, not for all the money in Christendom.’
Roland took her elbow and drew her away. ‘Come, my dear, you will do no business with this fellow.’
‘What the devil are you doing here?’ she demanded as soon as they were out of earshot.
‘I came to buy timber.’
‘In a cotton warehouse! You are roasting me.’
‘No, I am not. I was on my way to the timber yards when I spotted you. You seemed to be having some difficulty…’
‘Not at all. I was simply bargaining for the cotton.’
‘So I perceived, but if the man has already been paid for it, you can hardly expect him to sell it again to you.’
‘No, I suppose not, but I have tried everywhere else, all my father’s old contacts, the ships unloading at the quay, and none have cotton to spare. I suppose it is that damned war.’
‘Shall we find somewhere to have some refreshment and talk?’ he said, smiling a little at her unladylike language, but making no comment on it. ‘You can tell me all about it.’
‘Why should I?’
‘Oh, do not be so independent, Charlotte. I only want to help.’ He was conducting her along the busy street, making a way for them through the crowds towards the centre of the town. ‘Where are you staying?’
She was too unsettled to notice his use of her given name. Unsure whether to hate him for his interference or to be thankful that he was there, his hand under her elbow, protecting her, she did nothing to pull herself from his grasp. ‘I stayed last night with the family of my ship’s captain. His poor wife is worried to death and I thought to comfort her. I hoped to have my business done and to start for home today.’
‘It is too late to make a start now, you would be travelling through the night.’
‘I do not mind that. I cannot impose on Mrs Scott a second night. Talbot is very capable.’
‘So he may be, but anything could happen. There has been prodigious rainfall lately and the potholes are ruinous.’ What he did not say was that if she insisted on going home in the dark, then he would have to follow. Bennett was considerably older than Talbot and could not be expected to do it. He could, of course, drive himself, but it would be safer if neither of them attempted it. ‘Where have you left your coach?’
‘At the livery stables next to the posting inn.’
‘Then we will go and fetch it and then go to my cousin’s. He lives but five miles out of Liverpool. He is a family man and I am sure his wife will make you comfortable. We will go home tomorrow.’
‘I cannot do that!’
‘Why not?’
‘Because I cannot.’ It was said with little conviction.
‘Do you have a better idea?’
She did not, except to insist on Talbot driving her home in the dark. She might be able to doze in the coach, but he could not. He would have to keep all his wits alert to avoid the potholes and stay on the road, and supposing tiredness overcame him and he fell asleep? She hated admitting the Earl was right. ‘You are not bamming me?’ she asked. ‘Your cousin is a respectable married man and his wife is at home?’
‘I swear it,’ he said, crossing himself, though he could not help laughing.
‘It is not a laughing matter, my lord. I have two hundred workers who will be without employment in the next two days if I cannot produce some yarn from somewhere.’
‘Have you tried asking nearer to home?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Why, Sir Gordon Brandon. Surely as a friend he would help you out?’
‘He may be a friend, my lord, but he is also a competitor.’
‘Would you help him if he were in trouble?’
‘Of course.’
‘There you are, then.’ They had arrived at the coaching inn where Talbot was enjoying a tankard or two of ale in the parlour, waiting for his mistress to return. He was relieved to see her and even happier to find her in the company of the Earl. He was told to order the horses to be harnessed and ready to leave while the Earl and his mistress had something to eat and drink.
They did not dawdle over it and were soon sitting side by side in her luxurious coach on their way to Geoffrey’s. She was silent, her head full of problems that seemed insoluble, and all her senses alert to the man beside her. Why did he want to help her, when he held her in such contempt? What motive did he have except her utter humiliation? He had achieved that once before and though she was ready to concede that his father had perhaps driven him to it, since coming home he had given no indication that he was sorry for it. He was such a mixture of arrogance, obstinacy and old-fashioned chivalry, there was no understanding him. They worked together in complete harmony when it came to helping the villagers and teaching Tommy, and yet there was about him a hidden reserve, as if he were afraid to let her see anything of the inner man.
‘You have not done anything about your timber,’ she said.
‘It will do another time.’
‘There never was an errand for timber, was there?’
‘Indeed there was. I need new wainscot for the dining room at the Hall.’
‘I would have expected the builders to deal with it.’
‘That is the second time you have questioned my truthfulness, Miss Cartwright.’
‘No, only your common sense. You do not seem able to delegate, but must do everything yourself.’
‘It is as well I did on this occasion or you would have been in a scrape, thrown into a ditch somewhere and your coachman injured, if not killed.’
She began to shake with laughter.
‘I do not see how you can find such a prospect humorous,’ he said stiffly.
‘I was reminded of Mr Halliwell and his fat wife with the bright orange hair. She took you for a labourer and Tommy for your son.’
He found his own lips twitching. ‘But it could have been much worse, you know.’
‘I know.’
‘Then concede I am right and we would do well to delay our departure until daylight.’
‘I concede nothing. It would only puff you up.’ She turned towards him. ‘How did you know I was in Liverpool?’
‘I never said I did.’
‘No, but you were not surprised to see me. It was as if you had been on the lookout for me, and you gave up your own errand without a moment’s hesitation. I have learned the hard way how to detect a dissembler, my lord.’
He gave a rueful smile. ‘I should hate to be thought a dissembler, which is only one step above a liar. I went to Mandeville to call on you and found a distraught Lady Ratcliffe. She is not used to your ways, you know, and was quite convinced you would fall into a bumblebath of one kind or another.’
‘So the knight errant set out to rescue a damsel who did not need rescuing.’ She paused. ‘Why did you go to Mandeville? There is nothing wrong with Tommy, is there?’
‘No, I left him having his lesson. I went because I had something to say to you.’
‘Then say it. You will never have a better opportunity.’
‘Browhill…’
‘What about it?’
‘If it is causing you problems…’
‘Now, where did you get that idea, my lord? I have no problems with Browhill. The seam is being worked and producing barytes at an acceptable rate.’ Barytes was a heavy white mineral used mainly in the manufacture of paint and fetched a good price on the open market.
‘Nothing has changed, then,’ he said, leaning back in his seat. She was still as prickly as ever about that mine. He did not feel disposed to appear to capitulate. A man had his pride after all.
‘No,’ she said, unwilling to let him see how disappointed she was. That damned mine stood between them, like the rock in which it was worked. The past could not be wiped out, any more than she could wipe out the memory of his callous words six years before. And what did it matter anyway? They might work together for the good of the village, but they would never be more than neighbours.
They fell into silence and a few minutes later turned into the drive of Geoffrey’s house and drew up outside the door. Talbot dismounted and beat a tattoo on the door, while Roland handed Charlotte down and, putting his hand beneath her elbow, guided her towards the entrance. In next to no time she was being introduced to Mr Geoffrey Temple and his charming wife, Elizabeth, in the elegant drawing room.
‘We are at your mercy,’ Roland told them. ‘Miss Cartwright’s business took longer than she thought it would and it is too late to start back to Amerleigh tonight…’
‘Of course it is,’ Elizabeth said, a little taken aback by Charlotte’s grey skirt and military style jacket. ‘Do please stay here. Roland is always welcome and any friend of his is welcome too. We are about to have supper. If you excuse me, I will go and alert Cook that we have guests and have a room made ready for Miss Cartwright. Roland was here last night and we thought he might return so his bed is still made up.’ She bustled away.
‘Oh, dear,’ Charlotte said to Geoffrey. ‘I fear I am imposing. After all, I am a stranger you never heard of before now.’
‘Oh, but we have heard of you. Roland spoke of you last night.’
She looked sharply at Roland, who covered his embarrassment with a chuckle. ‘Nothing bad, I do assure you,’ he said. ‘I was telling Geoffrey about Tommy and our plans for a school for deaf children.’
‘Yes, tell me more,’ Geoffrey said. ‘I might be able to interest others.’
While they waited for supper to be served and over the meal itself, Charlotte, who had not expected to be dining out and had therefore been unable to change, explained that she had come to take an interest in Tommy because his older sisters worked at her mill. From there, with gentle prompting from Geoffrey, she talked about the mill and the Fair Charlie and her fears that it might be lost.
‘The Fair Charlie,’ he said. ‘I have heard of her. A good ship with a very good captain. I am sure he will bring her safely to port.’
‘I hope so for everyone’s sake. Captain Scott has a family who are very worried about him and I have hundreds of workers waiting for her cargo.’
‘She used to be a slaver, I believe.’
‘Yes, but my father gave up the trade years ago.’
‘Do you still own slaves?’
‘No, sir, I do not.’ It was said very firmly. ‘The workers on my plantation are free men and women working for wages. I do not believe any man or woman should be the chattel of another.’
Roland, who had been listening to this exchange without interrupting, turned to her in surprise. ‘I did not know that.’
‘You do not know everything about me, my lord.’
‘Evidently not. What next? I wonder.’
‘I must say, I admire you,’ Elizabeth put in. In order not to embarrass her guest, she had not changed from her day dress, a simple act of courtesy that Charlotte appreciated. ‘To have so much responsibility at such a young age must be daunting.’
‘I have been brought up to it, Mrs Temple.’
‘You must have people around to advise and help you.’
‘Of course. My father used to say the secret of good business was being able to trust the people around you and I have certainly found it so. But the final decisions are mine.’
‘You have never married?’
‘No.’
‘A husband would surely take the weight from your shoulders.’
Charlotte laughed. ‘He would take all of it and me with it.’
‘Miss Cartwright enjoys her independence,’ Roland said. He had learned more about her in the last two hours than he had the whole of the time he had been back from the war, and he wondered why she found it so easy to talk to his cousin and not to him. Why, when he accused her of owning slaves, had she not corrected him? Why did they strike sparks off each other? Why, when he wanted to make a concession, did she block it by saying something to stop him? Why, when she showed herself to be a compassionate and caring employer, did he have to goad her into proving otherwise? Why, when all he wanted to do was help her, did she disdain him?
‘Independence can be an impediment if taken to extremes,’ Geoffrey said thoughtfully. ‘It prevents you from accepting help when offered.’
‘Mr Temple, I hope you do not think I am ungrateful for your hospitality, because I assure you that is not the case at all…’
‘Good heavens, ma’am, I never meant that. I was about to say I may be able to help you over the matter of the cotton. I am well known among the merchants of Liverpool and indeed further afield, and while my own expertise is in wool, I do have connections in the cotton trade.’
‘If you can help, sir, I will most certainly accept it with gratitude.’
‘How much do you need and how much are you prepared to pay for it?’
Charlotte became more animated, as if a weight had indeed been lifted from her shoulders. Roland watched as she answered his cousin, explaining the types of cotton yarn she needed to fulfil her most pressing orders, the amount and quality of each, and he marvelled. She was knowledgeable and astute—made that way by a father she did not always agree with—but, even in that strange garb, every inch a woman, young and beautiful and very desirable. He found himself suddenly wanting to tell her so.
The meal ended and the ladies retired to the drawing room, leaving the men to their port.
‘An extraordinary woman,’ Geoffrey said, handing Roland the bottle from which he filled his glass.
‘Yes,’ he said, giving the bottle back.
‘Entirely unmarriageable, of course.’
‘Do you think so?’
‘Oh, no doubt of it. No husband worth his salt would put up with her ways.’
‘Surely that depends on the husband,’ Roland said thoughtfully.
‘He would have to be a jackstraw, prepared to subjugate himself for an easy living.’
Roland laughed. ‘There are plenty of those about.’ He paused. ‘Can you really track down cotton yarn for her?’
‘Some, probably not all she needs, but enough to keep her going for a week or two.’
‘You have my grateful thanks.’
‘Your thanks? Does that mean she is more to you than a mere neighbour?’
‘She is a delightful adversary.’
‘Adversary? You mean over Browhill? Is it that important?’
‘I thought it was because of what it meant to my father and also because it has always been part of the estate, but now I am not so sure. What do you think? You are, after all, my heir.’
‘For now, yes, but what is that to the point? You will marry and have a nursery full of children.’
‘Perhaps, perhaps not.’
Geoffrey looked searchingly at him. ‘Oh, come, Roly, you are young and virile, of course you will marry. It is a man’s duty, especially when he has an estate like Amerleigh to pass on. There must be any number of young ladies who would jump at the chance to become the Countess of Amerleigh.’
‘I believe there are, but none I would feel comfortable with. And at the moment, recovering the estate is taking up all my time.’
‘Well, I should forget Browhill, if I were you. Amerleigh is large enough without it and it does not do to be for ever at war with one’s neighbours.’ He stood up. ‘Shall we join the ladies?’
Roland swallowed the remainder of his port and followed his host to where Elizabeth and Charlotte were enjoying a comfortable coze over the teacups. Charlotte was sitting on a sofa next to Elizabeth, her grey skirt and frogged coat a strange contrast to the green taffeta afternoon dress that her hostess wore.
Prompted by Geoffrey, who wanted to know what he had been doing the last six years, he spoke of the war. Bearing in mind there were ladies present, he did not go too closely into the cruelty and barbarity he had witnessed, but spoke of the daily routine, the long marches and the countryside.
‘But you liked the life?’
‘Yes. It has its good moments, and I do not mean the glory of victory, though that is exhilarating beyond anything you can find in civilian life, but the comradeship, the faith and trust we all put in each other. Every man’s life depends on the man next to him.’
‘What about the women who go to war?’ Charlotte asked. ‘How do they go on?’
He had smiled. ‘Do you fancy yourself as a soldier, Miss Cartwright? I have known it happen on a very few occasions that women dress in male attire to fight alongside the men, but they are soon discovered.’
‘I did not mean that. I meant wives and camp followers—that is what the women who follow the men are called, is it not?’
‘Yes, and some are the most faithful, stalwart and courageous women I have ever met. They are often wet, cold and hungry and at other times hot and thirsty. And frequently they are very close to the fighting.’
‘They walk?’
‘Most of them. Some of the senior officers’ wives have carriages, but the terrain is often difficult and frequently they are obliged to abandon them or fall behind and then they become prey to bandits. I would not recommend it, Miss Cartwright.’
‘You evidently do not think a married man should take his wife on campaigns.’
‘No, for if their husbands are killed, they are left entirely alone. Many marry again immediately in order to have some protection. I would never subject a wife of mine to that possibility.’
‘How dreadful,’ Elizabeth put in. ‘They cannot love their new husbands.’
‘I doubt love is even thought of.’ He paused and smiled. ‘Though you would be surprised at how often love does thrive in such unpromising circumstances. I have seen devotion of wives for husbands and husbands for wives, which is an example to us all. And liaisons made out of necessity that have stood the test of time.’
‘But you remained immune?’ Charlotte queried.
He looked closely at her, wondering what had prompted the question. ‘Miss Cartwright, I am unwed, as you well know.’
‘Unwed, yes, unloved—perhaps not?’
‘Now that is something else entirely, and we were not speaking of me, but of soldiers in general.’
Realising she had gone too far with her questions, designed to learn more about the man himself, she quickly changed the subject and began to ask him what he thought the outcome of the allied deliberations might be, which led to a general discussion about the future, and that led to the state of the harvest and trade in general, and on that subject Charlotte was easily able to hold her own.
The harmony of the evening should have prepared Roland for a peaceful night, but in that it failed. He slept badly, his mind full of images of Charlotte: Charlotte comforting Tommy, cradling Mrs Biggs’s baby in her arms, dancing wildly with her mill workers, sitting on a nursery chair, giggling like a schoolgirl over the signs they were making; Charlotte on horseback and driving the curricle to an inch, Charlotte in a temper, green eyes flashing; Charlotte, her face creased with worry about the Fair Charlie and its captain. How could he not adore her?
He woke late and went down to breakfast, only to discover that she was up before him and had left. ‘She said she wanted an early start,’ Geoffrey told him. ‘She is anxious to reassure her workers that the yarn is on its way.’
‘Why the devil did you not wake me?’
‘She asked me not to. After all, you have your own coach.’ He smiled. ‘By the way, Elizabeth and I have been invited to a masked ball.’
‘I had forgotten all about that. Will you go?’
‘Of course. I would not miss it for the world.’
‘Then you are welcome to stay at the Hall. I will ask my mother to join us; she will be happy to see you again and show you all the improvements we have made.’
‘Thank you. I shall look forward to it. Now, help yourself to breakfast. I must leave if I am to do anything about that cotton.’ He hurried away, leaving Roland looking down at the breakfast table where the used plates and crumbled remains of bread told of two people having breakfasted.
‘Damn the woman!’ he exclaimed. ‘Damn! Damn! Damn!’ He turned on his heel and went out to the stables to tell Bennett to harness the horses to his carriage. It suddenly seemed important to catch up with her.
