Читать книгу The Captain's Disgraced Lady - Catherine Tinley, Catherine Tinley - Страница 12

Chapter Four

‘Oh, it is so good to see you again!’ Juliana hugged Charlotte tightly. ‘It seems so long since we were at school together.’

‘It has only been a year, you know,’ laughed Charlotte.

‘But what a year for you! Moving to England and getting married. Is your husband at home?’

‘Yes, Adam is here, but out with his steward. You will meet him later.’

The two young women were seated together in the drawing room at Chadcombe, the large estate owned by Charlotte’s husband, Adam, Earl of Shalford. Juliana’s mother, claiming tiredness, was lying down and being fussed over by Adam’s great-aunt Clara, who seemed like a darling. Mama had suffered no relapse of her illness during the remainder of their journey, though had seemed relieved their voyage was ended.

‘The house is beautiful, Charlotte—and so large! How on earth are you managing as mistress of it?’

‘Oh, it is fine—I enjoy it, actually. There is a lot to do—and an army of servants to manage. I love it!’

‘Well,’ said Juliana doubtfully, ‘I am glad, for I could not imagine coping with the responsibility. It is all I can do to manage myself sometimes!’

Charlotte laughed. ‘That is such a Juliana thing to say! Oh, how I’ve missed you!’

‘I’ve missed you, too, Charlotte. But tell me about your husband. Is it true you are a countess now?’

‘Indeed I am, though I confess I always think they are talking about someone else when people mention Lady Shalford.’

‘Lady Shalford—just think! Though I must say you look and sound like the old Charlotte!’

‘I don’t think I have changed very much at all.’

Juliana considered this. ‘Something has changed, though, Charlotte. There is something different about you.’

Charlotte looked disconcerted. ‘Well, I hope I haven’t changed for the worse.’

‘Of course not, for I can sense already you are still as lovely—and as calm—as you ever were. Oh, how I’ve missed your calmness when I get myself in a scrape!’

‘And we certainly had plenty of scrapes together!’ Charlotte smiled. ‘Remember the time we stole the apple pie that cook had made for Herr Meindl’s visit? And we had to eat a full supper as usual so the teachers didn’t suspect it was us?’

‘Yes! And the time you got the love letter from that Italian Count, and we had to burn it quickly because the head teacher was on her way to our chamber?’

Charlotte sighed. ‘He was exceedingly romantic—and terribly tiresome! But I was pleased he actually noticed me. All the young men used to fall in love with you, Juliana.’

Juliana snorted. ‘Not all the young men, Charlotte. Why, in Dover...’ She tailed off and bit her lip.

‘Juliana...’ Charlotte’s tone was suspicious ‘...you might as well tell me, for I can read you easily. What is your latest scrape?’

Juliana grimaced. ‘Well, I am not sure I should tell you, for I feel quite ashamed of myself. But I was provoked beyond measure!’

‘No need to give me your fierce look! Tell me the whole—who has provoked you and what did you do that makes you feel ashamed?’

Juliana told the story. She knew as she did so that she wasn’t telling it well, or clearly—her emotions were too heightened for logic, though she thought Charlotte eventually understood the essentials.

‘And now,’ she concluded, ‘that horrible man is likely to visit us in Brussels, for Mama gave him our direction.’

‘If he does, many months will have passed and you might not feel the same way.’

‘I cannot imagine ever feeling any differently about him! Why, he has followed me everywhere!’

‘What?’ Charlotte’s eyes opened wide. ‘He followed you? Who is he? What is his name? We can report him to the army...’

‘Oh, no! His name does not matter, for of course I do not suggest he actually followed me! What I mean is—he haunts me! I cannot forget his disdain, or how unjust it was! Twice on the journey I saw dark-haired men and my heart leapt with anger, as I thought it was him. But it was not him.’

‘I see,’ said Charlotte, though she looked confused.

Juliana had had enough of remembering him. ‘Anyway, tell me more about your life here. Who else lives in this huge house, apart from you and Adam and his great-aunt Clara—and your army of servants, of course?’

Charlotte looked as though she was considering persisting with her questions, then let it go. ‘Adam has a younger brother and sister. His brother is with the army in France and his sister is visiting friends in Lincolnshire. And Papa lives here, too—though spends much of his time socialising in London.’

‘Dear Sir Edward! I was so shocked when you told me how he was attacked in France last year. I do hope he is well.’

‘He is and flirting with every widow in London! Though I do believe he has a particular fondness for Adam’s godmother, Lady Annesley. But he is quite shocking, you know.’

Juliana giggled. ‘I do not doubt it! Are we to visit London?’

‘Yes, we will all go in a few weeks, for the Season has begun. But first, I must prepare for a Public Day on Friday.’

‘A Public Day? What is that?’

‘It’s a tradition here, which Adam and I have revived since our marriage last year. We open the house and gardens to all the locals. We provide refreshments and Adam makes a speech. There is entertainment for the children and some sporting competitions—pony races, archery and the like. The night before, some of the local gentry come for dinner and those from further away stay the night. There is no little work in it.’

Juliana gasped. ‘And you organise all of this?’

‘Not everything, no. Adam and his steward manage the events. I focus on the work the indoor staff do—the food, making sure that bedrooms are all allocated and ready, preventing petty theft, that sort of thing. This will be only our second Public Day.’

Juliana was impressed. ‘I could never manage it. But I am happy to be directed. Tell me how I can help, for I would not wish to be a burden on your time.’

‘Really? You would not prefer to rest?’

‘Now, Charlotte, you know I am not restful. I never was. Sometimes I think my poor mama tires more from my company than she does from the journey!’

‘Oh, no! For I know she loves you dearly.’

‘And I love her. But we have chafed on each other during this journey. My energy tires her out and she needs time alone to revive herself.’

‘She will have plenty of rest and solitude here, if that is her wish. Chadcombe is the most peaceful, beautiful place I’ve ever known. I love it here.’

Juliana frowned. ‘I hope I don’t cut up your peace, Charlotte.’

‘Oh, no, my dear friend! Why, you never tired me out. In fact, you always gave me daring when I needed it. Sometimes when I need to be strong, I think “What would Juliana say?” or “What would Juliana do?” And then I find my courage.’

‘Oh, Charlotte! Now I shall have to hug you again, for you are making me cry! And now you are crying, too! I am so glad to be here and so sorry to make you cry!’

‘Now then, what’s all this? Who is making my wife cry?’

Juliana’s heart lurched. The dark-haired man who had just entered the room really looked like—Stop it! she told herself. Stop seeing that arrogant man everywhere! He is not worth your thoughts!

‘Adam!’ Charlotte stood and moved to embrace her husband. ‘I am crying because I am so happy to see my dear friend again.’ He looked down at her, smiling, and kissed her forehead. The warmth between them was evident. Juliana’s heart melted. It seemed Charlotte had found a man who truly appreciated her goodness.

Charlotte introduced them, smiling happily. Adam welcomed Juliana and then politely asked about her journey.

‘Yes, it was a pleasant journey, thank you.’ Charlotte suppressed a giggle. Juliana threw her a quelling look. ‘Er...we had to stay in Dover on the first night, which is not what we had planned, but Mama was unwell, so we had no choice.’

Adam’s eyes narrowed, but he did not ask any awkward questions, for which Juliana was grateful. She would not wish Charlotte’s husband to think ill of her and she still felt the story showed her in a bad light.

The conversation moved on, and Juliana relaxed.

* * *

Harry turned towards Horse Guards, the familiar white edifice that housed the War Office. Absent-mindedly, he greeted acquaintances as he walked, for his thoughts were elsewhere. Yet again, the dark beauty he had met in Dover was occupying his mind. Miss Juliana Milford.

Various memories assailed him at different times. Juliana as he had first seen her, standing straight beside her mother’s chair, her eyes flashing warnings at him. Juliana, humbled, as she had apologised to him, each word dragged from her against her stubborn will. Her discomfort at the frisson of attraction between them when he had kissed her hand. He smiled. He particularly liked that one.

But his favourite memory—the one which intruded most frequently—was the moment he’d made her smile. Of course he knew she would misdirect him, if allowed to write down the details of her direction in Brussels. He had foiled her by asking her mother to dictate it instead and had been unable to resist sending Juliana a crowing look. He had been momentarily stupefied when she had returned it with a reluctant smile, signalling a sense of humour as wicked as his own.

That brief moment of charity between them was causing all manner of disturbing feelings in him. It was a new experience—and a much more complex response than his normal flirtations. He knew he had charm, and enjoyed the game of making ladies like him. He was always careful, of course, to make it clear his intentions were not serious. He would not want to dally with the affections of any lady.

For his affaires, he chose either high-born widows or high-class courtesans, and he was able to skilfully separate his basic needs from his flirtations with young ladies. There was no point in lusting after the virgins on the marriage mart, for their goal was marriage, not bed sport.

Confusingly, his thoughts of Juliana were decidedly erotic—something he had always previously guarded against with the young ladies of his acquaintance. He would be better putting her out of his mind, for a gently bred lady would never choose to give up her virginity outside marriage, and he, of course, would never marry.

‘Captain Fanton!’ It was Evans, using his military title as they were at Headquarters.

Harry greeted his colleague. ‘What gives?’

‘Major Cooke is waiting for you. I’ve heard they’ll keep us in England for at least two months. We’ve been assigned to planning and co-ordinating supplies for the new campaign.’

‘Damn!’ Harry frowned. He wanted to be back in Brussels, where the real action was happening.

‘I know. Perhaps you should have been less clever these past years. This is our punishment for having the most efficient unit in the regiment!’

‘I fear you are right, Lieutenant.’

‘The only good news is we shall have some time off in England. I’m going home for a few days.’

‘Really? That is welcome news, for I have not seen my family in months.’

Harry conversed with Evans for a few moments more, before continuing on to his meeting with the Major. If he must be stuck in England, at least he would have the opportunity to visit home.

He only wished he had sought Miss Milford’s direction in England—he had assumed he would be sent directly back to Brussels and that would be his next opportunity to see her. I wonder, he thought, if she will attend any balls or parties in London?

He grinned at the thought of how chagrined she would be to meet him in some parlour or ballroom, while thinking him safely returned to Brussels. Oh, that would be interesting!

* * *

Juliana watched as her friend graciously welcomed another family to Chadcombe. Charlotte stood with her husband on the steps outside the front door, as carriage after carriage pulled up, as well as farm carts and wagons. Each time, Adam and Charlotte spoke warmly to the arrivals, before directing them towards the public rooms, where they would find refreshments. Juliana stood in the hall behind them, with the list of expected guests, marking each family off as they arrived.

‘That’s the Beasley family, miss,’ said the second footman. He knew everyone in the district and was assisting Juliana in her task. Juliana thanked him and put a mark beside the Beasleys.

As the Beasleys—Mr Beasley, Mrs Beasley and Master Tom Beasley—passed, another carriage was already pulling up. Juliana’s eyes widened at the sight of the couple descending from it.

First, a lady. A woman. Possibly a lady. Her ample form was encased in a shocking purple silk and her arms glittered with diamond-encrusted bracelets. At her neck was a garish necklace—also with diamonds and quite inappropriate for day wear. Juliana studied her face. She was in her forties, with pale eyes, a hardness about the mouth and a hint of the rouge pot on her cheeks. Her hair was an improbable shade of blonde, glowing a brassy yellow in the bright daylight.

Juliana closed her mouth, which had been hanging open in shock. The woman’s husband was now descending from the carriage, assisted by the groom. He was as lean as his wife was plump, with harsh, angular features and narrow eyes that darted, weasel-like, all around. His clothing was more conservative—a dark-coloured jacket and biscuit-coloured unmentionables, as well as dull black boots. He seemed all bones—elbows, knees and shoulders all poked prominently through his clothes, which hung on him in a most unflattering way. He, too, flaunted his wealth—a diamond pin was stuck in his cravat and he was unconsciously rolling an ostentatious signet ring on the small finger of his left hand.

Juliana consulted her list. This, then, must be Mr and Mrs Wakely, for almost everyone else had arrived. There was a family of five—the Dentons—still to come, but the Wakelys were the only couple. The footman confirmed it and Juliana moved forward, the better to hear the conversation between Lord and Lady Shalford and this strange pair.

‘...so sorry for our tardiness, milady,’ trilled Mrs Wakely, with a false-sounding titter. ‘I said to Mr W. we needed to hurry, but he assured me we would be in good time!’

Her spouse looked less than pleased at having to shoulder the blame. ‘My lord! Lady Shalford!’ He made an obsequious bow. ‘We are so delighted to finally visit Chadcombe! We thank you for your kind invitation!’

The Earl glowered, but said all that was proper, as did Charlotte.

‘Lady Shalford,’ said Mrs Wakely, ‘you and I must have a comfortable cose! For we ladies know what it is like to run a household, though I confess Glenbrook Hall—our humble home—has nothing on Chadcombe. What pillars! What windows! And look, Mr W.! Peacocks!’

‘I had already noted the noble birds, my love,’ replied her spouse with a sickly smile. ‘We shall have to install some at Glenbrook Hall! Lord Shalford, how much would it cost to buy a pair of peacocks?’

Adam adopted an air of haughty indifference. ‘I’m sure I have no idea—my steward, however, may be able to assist you.’

‘Of course, of course,’ said Mrs Wakely busily, nudging her spouse hard in the ribs. ‘Lord Shalford would not concern himself with such things as buying peacocks! And, you know, my lady, we have more than twenty servants in Glenbrook Hall—including the grooms and the stable boy—so we can ask one of them to acquire peacocks for us.’

Charlotte seemed unable to speak. On the other hand, Juliana rather thought Adam was about to say something that he oughtn’t. As someone who had frequently found herself at a similar stand, she decided to rescue them. ‘Charlotte, if you will introduce me, I will gladly show your guests to the public rooms.’

Charlotte sent her a grateful look. ‘Thank you, Juliana.’ She turned to the Wakelys. ‘May I present my friend Miss Milford, who is staying with us at present. This is Mr Wakely, and Mrs Wakely.’

‘I’m pleased to make your acquaintance,’ said Mrs Wakely, with an insincere smile. ‘Any friend of Lady S....’

Mr Wakely took Juliana’s hand. His eyes swept over her body in a most disturbing way. ‘Charmed!’ he said, planting a wet kiss on her hand. Juliana shuddered slightly. He saw it and a hint of a cold smile gleamed momentarily in his tiny eyes.

Juliana swallowed hard. Then, squaring her shoulders, she indicated the hallway. ‘Please come this way. I am certain you are in need of refreshments after your journey.’

‘Oh, no,’ said Mrs Wakely, as if affronted by Juliana’s suggestion. ‘For we travelled only four miles to get here and we ate well before we left. We keep a good table at Glenbrook Hall, if I do say so myself. Why, at breakfast today, we had pork and beef!’

Juliana was at a loss as to how to respond to this. Mrs Wakely, though, continued without a pause, admiring every detail of the house and its contents—the ceilings, doors, door handles and patterned stone floors all came in for praise. She constantly advised her husband to look and he, too, exclaimed at every detail.

‘So, Miss Milford,’ said Mr Wakely, who was walking much too close to her, ‘is your family from this area?’

‘No,’ said Juliana shortly. ‘We are simply visiting Lord and Lady Shalford.’

He nodded as if satisfied. ‘I see.’

After leading them to the parlour set aside for refreshments, Juliana waited while they loaded their plates—Mr Wakely with a single cake and a peach, and Mrs Wakely with a generous selection of pastries, fruit and cheese. With some relief, Juliana made her apologies and returned to the hall to find Charlotte.

‘Juliana!’ Charlotte hurried towards her, taking both her hands. ‘Thank you so much for rescuing us!’ She glanced around to make sure no one was listening, then added, ‘What awful people!’ She bit her lip. ‘I know I should not say such a thing about my guests, but...’

‘They are awful and you’re perfectly right to say it to me,’ said Juliana reassuringly. ‘Who on earth are they?’

‘They’ve recently moved into Glenbrook Hall, a house and grounds not five miles from here. I had heard they are not at all the thing and have not been accepted into local society.’

‘I can understand it, having seen them,’ said Juliana with a grimace. ‘Will they be here for long—are they leasing Glenbrook Hall, or do they own it?’

‘I can’t remember.’ Charlotte frowned. ‘There is some story there that I cannot quite recall. I shall ask Adam later. For now, I must help with the events.’ She had a quick word with the footman, reminding him to be on the alert for any intruders who might stray beyond the public rooms or pilfer small items. She then linked her arm with Juliana’s and together they stepped out into the sunshine.

* * *

Five hours later, Juliana sank down on to a wooden chair with some relief. She had finally located her mother, who was sitting drinking tea with Adam’s great-aunt Clara, Miss Langley, outside the Orangery.

‘Juliana!’ Her mother reached out and took her hand. ‘You look exhausted! Would you like some tea?’

‘I should love some, for I have had nothing to eat or drink since breakfast. I had no idea how much work there would be on this Public Day.’

Miss Langley poured her a cup, her wrinkled face a study in concentration as she carefully poured the warm liquid into a delicate china cup. ‘Oh, my dear Miss Milford! Here, have some cake!’

Juliana thanked her, and bit gratefully into the sweet sponge. ‘Charlotte has not eaten either, I know, for we have been constantly moving around, from competitions to the parlour and back again. Thankfully some of the guests are beginning to leave. It has been a long afternoon.’

‘Well, if you are tired, Juliana, it must have been busy, indeed, for you are rarely tired.’

Juliana was not listening. Out of the corner of her eye she had seen a dark figure moving furtively through the bushes and trees on the edge of the garden. Moving towards the house!

The manner of his movement was so suspicious that Juliana’s sense of danger was aroused. She remembered Charlotte’s warning to the footman and had asked her about it afterwards. Charlotte had said that in years past, there had been reports of thefts during Public Days, with thieves seeing it as the perfect opportunity to sneak in and purloin some small, expensive items while everyone was distracted with the guests and events.

She thought quickly. The footmen had been charged with keeping an eye on the corridors and entrances nearest the guest areas. No one had anticipated someone might try to sneak in through the Orangery!

‘Excuse me, Mama, Miss Langley, I have just remembered something.’ Acting nonchalantly, Juliana stood and walked casually to the Orangery door, just behind the terrace where the ladies were seated. Once inside, she moved quickly among the fruit trees and exotic plants towards the other external door—the one on the west side. She peered through the glass, scanning for any sign of the intruder. There he was—much closer and still moving stealthily through the shrubbery.

What could she do? There was no time to get help—everyone, apart from Mama and Miss Langley, was at the far side of the building. She looked around quickly, then spotted some tools resting in the corner. Choosing a short spade with a stout wooden handle, she positioned herself behind an enormous fern and waited.

She did not have long to tarry. She heard the door open, creaking slightly as it did so. It was closed again, slowly, then she distinctly heard a sigh, as if the intruder was relieved to have gained entrance, and now believed himself to be safe. Well! She gripped the spade more tightly. How dared he intrude into her friend’s home?

She held herself completely still, breathing as quietly as she could. She need not have worried. As he moved towards where she was hiding, she heard him whistle. What an arrogant thief! She felt the moment he passed her fern—its leaves moved as he walked along. Stepping out at exactly the right moment, she raised her spade and brought it down smartly on the back of his head.

‘Ow! What the deuce—?’ He wheeled around and grabbed her, at the same time hooking his right foot behind her calf and knocking her off balance. The spade flew out of her hand and clanged to the ground. She fell heavily, banging her left shoulder hard against the floor. He fell with her, his weight crushing all the breath out of her.

Uh-oh! Once again she had acted before thinking something through, and now she had left herself in danger. She had envisaged him falling, knocked out by her blow, which would have allowed her to run for help before he came to. She hadn’t thought that he would attack her! Her mind raced as she searched for a way out. She gasped for air, unable to scream, or even make a sound. His body pinned hers from shoulder to hip and all she could see was his shoulder, encased in a fine wool jacket.

He lifted his head. As his eyes met hers, Juliana’s widened in shock.

It was him—the man from the inn! Captain Fanton!