Читать книгу A Penniless Prospect - Joanna Maitland - Страница 11

At the sound of that deep authoritative voice, Jamie felt a shudder run through her body. She knew exactly who had uttered those deceptively simple words. But, now that she was finally to meet the man whose image had been haunting her, she did not dare to turn round to look at him. What if he saw through her disguise? What if…? She shrank further into her boy’s clothes, trying to make herself as inconspicuous as possible. Why did his arrival affect her so? He could not recognise her, for he had never set eyes on her, but somehow there was something incredibly threatening about his very presence. She sat staring at the floor, her hands clasped tightly together, as if in supplication.

Smithers, by contrast, was facing up to this unexpected arrival who seemed to find their presence so tiresome. She dropped a quick curtsy and then, without any kind of warning, cuffed Jamie lightly round the ear. ‘Stand up at once, Jamie, and make your bow to Lord Hardinge.’

Jamie rapidly obeyed, trying her best to bow as Edmund did and to conceal her dismay as she did so. What on earth was Smithers going to say? And do?

‘I beg your pardon for my brother’s want of manners, my lord,’ continued Smithers quickly. ‘He’s worried, you see, because there’s no room for him on the stage. They must have made a mistake up at the Hall and booked only one seat instead of two.’ She shrugged. ‘We’ll just have to wait, I suppose.’

Lord Hardinge looked inquiringly at the abigail. ‘A sudden departure, I collect?’

Smithers swallowed. ‘Urgent family business, my lord. I have to get Jamie to Bath quickly. He’s been… er…with me more or less since Mother died, you see, and now there’s a chance of a situation for him in Bath. But I need to be sure he’s settled. I promised my mother I would.’

‘Ah yes, very laudable, Smithers, very.’ He looked hard at Jamie. ‘And how old are you, my lad?’

Jamie found she could not speak. She looked appealingly at Smithers.

‘He don’t talk much, I’m afraid, my lord. He’s a little…well…backward. But he understands everything you say to him, I assure you, and he has the sweetest nature, too.’

Jamie gulped. Smithers was getting carried away. ‘I be thirteen,’ she croaked. ‘Gardener I be, sir.’

His lordship laughed, but not unkindly. ‘I could have guessed that from the state of your hands, Jamie, though not perhaps from your fine clothes. Are you a good gardener?’

Jamie nodded vigorously.

‘He has a wonderful way with growing things, to be sure,’ added Smithers, ‘though he’s not been a gardener, in the ordinary way.’

Lord Hardinge raised an eyebrow.

‘What I mean,’ continued Smithers hastily, improvising around the truth, ‘is that Jamie wasn’t exactly employed at Calderwood, just allowed to stay there. Charitable of her ladyship, really, to give him bed and board. The gardening was his attempt to pay his way. He’s not much good at household duties, I’m afraid.’

Jamie kept her head down, trying to hide her face from his lordship’s penetrating gaze. She knew she was blushing. That did not seem appropriate for a thirteen-year-old boy, even a backward one.

‘So, you have found him a proper situation as a gardener’s boy, have you, Smithers? That sounds hopeful.’

Jamie groaned inwardly. Smithers was beginning to struggle in the complications of her own story. If she claimed there was a position for Jamie, his lordship would probably enquire as to the employer’s name, and then what could Smithers say? Jamie held her breath.

‘No, not precisely, my lord.’ Smithers started to move towards the far end of the room. ‘Sit down there, Jamie,’ she called back. ‘Would you mind, my lord?’ she continued in a low voice. ‘I don’t like to discuss this in front of Jamie.’

Jamie swallowed a gasp. She wanted to stop them, but she could not step out of the part she was playing. No backward boy would understand what was being discussed, far less insist on being part of it. She must just put her trust in Annie Smithers. At least it would give her time to school her features into blankness— and a chance to strain her ears to hear what was being said.

‘I thank you kindly for your interest in my brother, my lord. In fact, there is no definite situation for him yet, but I am most hopeful. One of the Bath agencies believes he can be placed. There are many openings for bootboys and the like.’

‘But you said he has no bent for indoor work,’ he returned sharply.

Jamie saw that Smithers was flushing, caught by the twists of her own tale. ‘Not real indoor work, like a page boy,’ the abigail said hurriedly, ‘but even he can black boots.’

His lordship smiled coldly. ‘You would not say that to my valet, Smithers,’ he said caustically. ‘However, we are wandering from the point. Now, the stage is due in about ten minutes. Do you take your seat on it, and I will take the boy on the box of my carriage. You may find him at the coach office when you reach Bath.’

Smithers’ reply came out in a rush. ‘How very kind you are, my lord. But, no, I’m afraid I cannot accept your offer. Jamie’s never been on his own, you see, especially in a big city. I couldn’t think of letting him travel all that way by himself or having him wait at the coach station for such a long time on his own.’ She lowered her voice a little. ‘People sometimes take advantage, make fun of him. They can be very cruel.’

Fixing the abigail with a hard glare, his lordship pronounced on her fate. ‘Your sisterly concern does you credit, Smithers. Very well. Since you will not leave him to me, you had better come along as well. Get the lad to load your bags into my carriage. I am leaving immediately. I hope you do not object to travelling forward?’ He walked out with an indifferent nod, not waiting for her reply.

Smithers hurried back to Jamie. ‘Did you hear what we said?’ At Jamie’s rapid nod, the abigail continued, ‘Remember you must act the part of a boy, Miss Jamie. You’re to travel on the box with the coachman, which means you won’t have his lordship’s eye on you. He’s altogether too sharp, that one, for my liking.’

‘For goodness’ sake,’ hissed Jamie, ‘you must stop saying “Miss Jamie”! Remember, I am “Jamie” and you are “Annie”. What if he heard you?’

‘Yes, yes, very well,’ agreed Smithers, shooing her to the door. ‘Now, go and load the luggage. Quickly. You don’t want to draw his lordship’s attention to you by being tardy.’

Jamie grabbed her pack and the abigail’s bulky travelling bags and hurried out to the carriage, trying not to think about the risks of what was happening. Keep out of his way, she told herself sternly, and act simple.

But her eyes were still drawn to him, like a moth to flame. Lord Hardinge was standing by the steps, giving crisp instructions to his coachman. The grooms were stationed by the horses, ready to whip the cloths off their backs as soon as he gave the word. He exuded authority. And he was watching her!

‘Jamie!’ he called sharply as he mounted into the carriage. ‘Tell that sister of yours to get a move on. Quickly now!’

Jamie nodded obediently and trotted off into the taproom where Smithers was waiting, looking rather more composed than before. ‘Come on, Annie! He’s becoming impatient! Now, do be careful what you say to him. Don’t spin any more stories, please. I shan’t be able to keep up with them.’

‘Yes, you will. Just stick to your character—backward, without many words. If you don’t know what to say, say nothing. And look simple.’ She turned to go.

‘Annie.’ The abigail turned back. ‘Thank you, dear Annie. Some day—’

‘Oh, stuff! Now, let’s be going. He’ll expect you to help me into the carriage.’

Up on the box beside the old coachman, Jamie was soon inwardly rejoicing at her escape. In just a few hours, they would reach Bath, and then she would be free. Her heart was singing. But no amount of joy could prevent her from gradually freezing. Edmund’s clothes were not thick enough for winter wear and his cloak, though long, was thin, affording little protection against the bitingly sharp wind. Jamie glanced enviously at the thick greatcoat, mufflers and gloves of the coachman. Her own hands were becoming blue with cold and so numb she could barely feel them. She was sure there was a drip on the end of her nose. With grim determination, she ignored it and concentrated on mastering the chattering of her teeth. She refused to give up now. Only a few hours more…

Once Smithers was settled, Richard studiously ignored her. He relaxed in the corner of his opulent carriage, a fur rug over his knees, and closed his eyes to indicate that he did not propose to converse during the journey. He waited until the abigail fell asleep, lulled by the rhythmic rocking of the carriage. As her breathing slowed, he opened his eyes once more. And he fixed his gaze on her, thoughtfully examining every aspect of her person.

He had been surprised to find that he felt sorry for a simple lad, in spite of his suspicions of the sister’s lame explanations. The boy had looked so uncomfortable in his fine clothes, obviously charity cast-offs from someone in the Calderwood family. And he would be vulnerable without his sister, if he were indeed taking a situation on his own. Richard sighed. His conscience would not allow him to draw back, when a simpleton needed his help. Besides, there might be profit in this encounter. Smithers knew more about the Calderwood household than any agent he had yet been able to employ.

Richard had noted the attempt at masculine panache as the boy slung his sister’s bags into the carriage. But it was not so much the awkwardness of Jamie’s movements which had attracted his attention, as the size of the abigail’s baggage. Strange, if she were indeed travelling to Bath for a few days only. If she were leaving for good, on the other hand…

He smiled to himself. Things were beginning to work out rather better than he had hoped, and might yet be turned even more to his advantage. He would consider further during the journey. There was no rush, now that he had the woman under his eye.

At length, the carriage turned into a posting inn for a change of horses. The grooms were quickly about their business, unhitching the team and assessing the quality of the replacements. Nobody was paying any attention to Jamie. She sat immobile, too cold to move a muscle.

Lord Hardinge lowered the glass on his side of the carriage and poked his head out. ‘Jamie! Down from there! Go and fetch me a tankard of ale. Look sharp, now!’

Jamie hurried to climb down. She made a pretty poor showing, for her fingers were so cold she could barely grip the handholds. Seeing a waiter coming towards the carriage with a tray of tankards, she rushed to grab one and immediately dropped it. The ale splashed all over the waiter’s boots.

‘Why, you young—’ began the waiter, incensed, raising his free hand to strike Jamie.

‘That will do!’ commanded Lord Hardinge, flinging open the door and jumping down. ‘If my servants are to be chastised, I shall do it.’

The waiter began to stammer an apology, but his lordship simply took a full tankard from the tray, threw down some coppers and turned away.

‘Come here, Jamie.’

Jamie’s first reaction was to run, but her frozen limbs would never have moved fast enough. Keeping her eyes lowered, she approached her intimidating benefactor. He sounded much less angry now than when he had shouted at the waiter, but still…

‘Show me your hands.’

Jamie did so. They were thin and blue. The filthy fingernails stood out starkly.

‘Have you no gloves?’

Jamie shook her head, still gazing at the ground.

His lordship put a hand on her frozen cheek. Suddenly it seemed as if all the blood in Jamie’s body had rushed to that spot. She felt sure that the outline of his fingers was impressed in brightest scarlet on her burning skin. And that same quivering of all her body had returned.

‘Why, you’re frozen to the marrow, lad. No wonder you dropped that tankard. I should have known. You’re much too thin—and as for these clothes… Well, you’d better come inside with your sister, before I have your death on my conscience.’

Jamie did not move. She was still trying to come to terms with the strange effects this man had on her.

‘Don’t just stand there, boy.’ It sounded as if the Earl was beginning to regret his generosity. ‘Come, jump in.’ He gave Jamie a hearty push towards the carriage.

As Jamie climbed in, she registered the shock on the abigail’s face. No wonder. Spending hours under the eagle eye of Lord Hardinge might well lead to discovery. Jamie dared not utter a sound. Annie busied herself with chafing Jamie’s hands and clucking over her like an anxious mother hen.

‘Enough, Smithers, enough!’ snapped Lord Hardinge. ‘I have no objection to your helping your brother to get warm but, for heaven’s sake, do it without all this gabblemongering!’

Looking chastened, Smithers lapsed into silence. Eventually, she drifted off to sleep again.

Jamie soon found herself the only one awake. Cautiously, she sat up in her corner, pushing her hat back from her eyes and flexing her fingers, which tingled painfully as the sensation returned. She felt in her pocket for a handkerchief to deal with the drip on her nose. She did not have one, which reminded her that boys like simple Jamie never used them, so she experimented with wiping her nose on her sleeve instead. Ugh!

But what did that matter? She had escaped! She might never again live the life of a gentlewoman, but her future was now her own to decide. She paused to savour the luxury of the carriage, its deeply cushioned seats and the pervasive smell of rich leather. Nothing at Calderwood was half so splendid. And if Lady Calderwood had owned such an equipage, she would never have allowed her hated stepdaughter to set foot in it. Jamie sank back in her seat, longing to shout with exultant laughter.

Opposite her, Lord Hardinge moved in his sleep. He had removed his hat, presumably so that he might doze more comfortably. Jamie found herself gazing at him. It was such a handsome face in repose—thick, arched black brows, a finely chiselled nose, perhaps a little long, a generous mouth made for smiling, and a strong chin, slightly cleft. His thick dark hair became him, even in disarray. Jamie found herself wondering about the colour of his eyes. Dark, she supposed, like the rest of him, unconsciously raising her eyes to look again at his face.

Cobalt blue eyes bored into hers! Lord Hardinge had been watching her, just when she thought she was safe. And his eyes seemed to be able to see into the depths of her being! She shuddered visibly.

Glancing at the still-sleeping abigail, the Earl frowned across at Jamie, his face very stern. ‘Satisfied, are you, lad?’ he asked in a menacing whisper.

Jamie shuddered again.

Lord Hardinge’s expression softened slightly. ‘Don’t worry, Jamie. I am not angry.’ His voice seemed less hostile now. ‘But you really must not stare at your betters in that insolent way. It could earn you a beating in some houses.’

Jamie began to stammer an incoherent apology.

‘Forget it,’ interrupted his lordship sharply, closing his eyes once more.

Jamie held her breath for a long time, trying to control her racing pulse and fearing another onslaught from the powerful man sitting opposite her.

The carriage remained silent. It seemed that Lord Hardinge had had enough of the boy Jamie, at least for the present.

Jamie looked enviously at the abigail, sleeping peacefully alongside her. If only she dared to close her eyes too. She was so tired—and the growing warmth inside the carriage was making her eyelids droop. But it was too great a risk. She dug her fingernails into the palm of her hand. She must not sleep where he might watch her. She must not.

At the next change, the Earl allowed them both a bite to eat and a mug of ale. It tasted foul, and much too strong, but Jamie could find no reason to refuse it. Ten minutes after they had moved off, she began to succumb to the effects of the alcohol and her sleepless night. Her eyes closed, but still she struggled to stay alert.

‘I am glad your brother is asleep, Smithers, for I want to talk to you about him.’

‘Yes, my lord?’

‘From what you have told me, he would make a pretty poor bootboy. Much better to place him as apprentice gardener on a large estate.’

‘Yes, my lord. I intend to do so, if such a situation can be found. But—’

‘It can be. I need just such a boy on my own estate. I shall take him.’

‘I thank you for your offer, but we can’t accept it. You see…’ The abigail’s voice trailed off. She seemed to be fast running out of excuses.

‘Why don’t you tell me the truth, Smithers?’

His slightly raised voice penetrated Jamie’s half-slumber. At the sound of the word ‘truth’, her eyes snapped open.

‘I don’t understand…’ began Smithers.

‘Gammon. You know very well. No woman of your station carries all her worldly goods with her on a three-day trip to Bath. You have been dismissed from your post, I collect, and are hoping to find another in Bath. Well?’

‘It is true, my lord,’ agreed Smithers in a whisper. ‘Lady Calderwood would not keep me at the Hall after your visit. She decided…she believed…’ Her voice tailed off miserably.

‘Indeed? And so both of you are turned out into the world again? I must say it makes me wonder why you will not accept my offer for Jamie.’ There was an edge of irritation in his deep voice as he stared suspiciously at the abigail. The handsomeness of his face in repose had been replaced by a frown which drew his black brows together in a hard line.

Smithers began to stammer a little. ‘I…I was hoping to find a situation where we could be together, so that I could look after him. You know what I mean, I think.’

‘Yes, I do know. There is no need to elaborate. I assure you, he will come to no harm under my roof.’ He paused to look directly at Jamie, who shrank a little under his stern gaze. ‘Very well, Smithers. If I can persuade my mother to re-engage you as her abigail, will you then agree to my proposal for Jamie?’

‘I don’t know.’ She turned to consult Jamie, who nodded quickly, taking no notice of the silent warning in the older woman’s eyes. ‘Since Jamie seems willing—then, yes, if we can stay together, we accept.’

‘Good,’ said the Earl crisply, settling back in his seat. ‘I have no doubt Lady Hardinge will be delighted to have you back in her service. We should be at Harding in about an hour.’ He closed his eyes once more.

Jamie looked anxiously at the abigail, who shrugged impotently. It was now clear to Jamie that his lordship never had intended to take them to Bath, but straight to Harding, his own estate. Jamie felt a prickle of alarm. What did he have in mind for them now?