Читать книгу The Chaperon Bride - Nicola Cornick, Nicola Cornick - Страница 9

The morrow brought an invitation for Fanny and Lucy to spend a couple of days with their friend, Clara Anstey, under the auspices of her mother, Sibella’s bosom-bow Lady Anstey. Given this unexpected break from her chaperonage duties, Annis decided to borrow Charles’s carriage and make the journey out into the Dales to visit Starbeck. She had every intention of spending a few weeks there once Fanny and Lucy were off her hands, for she had no engagements until she returned to London for the Little Season. However, an advance visit to Starbeck would prove doubly useful; Annis wanted to assess the state of the house before she discussed its future with Charles, and she also wished to see what would be needed to make the house habitable for her stay.

It promised to be a hot day. The wind had dropped and the sun was already high above the Washburn valley. The grey stone villages dozed in the sunshine and higher up, the heather clad moors shimmered in a heat haze.

They stopped at one of Samuel Ingram’s new tollgates on the Skipton road. At present it was simply a wooden hut and a chain across the road, but a group of men were working conspicuously hard on the construction of a neat stone house beside the road. Their factor, a bare-headed young man whose chestnut hair gleamed bright in the sunlight, was standing close by and keeping a wary eye on them. Annis recognised him as Samuel Ingram’s agent at Linforth, Ellis Benson. Ingram tended to surround himself with the impecunious sons of the gentry, Annis thought wryly. Perhaps it was some manifestation of snobbery that he, a self-made man and son of a lighthouse-keeper, should employ those whose birth was so much better than his own.

Ellis saw her and his grim expression lightened in a smile as he lifted a hand in greeting. The tollkeeper came shuffling out of the hut to take their money and Annis leaned out of the window, recognising him as the former schoolmaster of Starbeck village.

‘Mr Castle! How are you, sir?’

The tollkeeper raised one hand to shade his eyes from the sun. His parchment-grey face crinkled into genuine pleasure.

‘Miss Annis! Well, I’ll be…I am very well, ma’am. And you?’

Annis opened the carriage door and let the steps down. The sun felt hot on her face and she could feel the warmth of the road beneath her feet. She tilted the brim of her bonnet to shield her face, feeling grateful that today she had abandoned her chaperon’s turbans for a straw hat and a light blue muslin gown.

‘I am well, thank you, Mr Castle.’ Annis shook hands with tollkeeper. ‘I am back in Harrogate for the summer, you know, and shall be staying at Starbeck next month. But you…’ Annis gestured to the tollhouse. ‘What happened to the school, Mr Castle?’

A strange expression crossed the tollkeeper’s face and for a moment Annis could have sworn it was guilt.

‘I can’t do both, Miss Annis. Besides, Mr Ingram pays me well to take the tolls for him. Nine shillings a week I’m making here.’ He shuffled, turning back to the coachman. ‘That’s ninepence for a carriage and pair, if you please.’

There was a clatter of wheels on the track behind them and then a horse and cart drew up on the road beside the carriage. The carter and his mate jumped down and started to unhitch the horse from between the shaft. A richly pungent smell of dung filled the air. Mr Castle, who had been about to move the chain from across the road so that Annis’ carriage could pass, gave an exclamation and hurried across to the cart.

‘Now see here, Jem Marchant, you can’t do that!’

The carter pushed his hat back from his brow and scratched his head. ‘Do what, Mr Castle?’

‘You can’t unhitch the horse. Horse and cart is fivepence together.’ Castle looked at the cart. ‘Sixpence, as you’ve got narrow wheels.’

‘Horse and cart are only thruppence apart!’ the carter returned triumphantly. ‘None of us can afford to pay Mr Ingram’s prices. Daylight robbery, so it is.’

The aroma of manure was almost enough to make Annis scramble back into the carriage and put the window up, but she suddenly caught sight of what looked like a pile of bricks hidden beneath the manure and leaned over for a closer look. The carter’s accomplice gave her a wink and shovelled some more dung over to hide it. Castle walked around the back of the cart and looked suspiciously at the load.

‘What’ve you got here?’

‘What does it look like?’ The carter started to lead the horse towards the tollgate, tipping his hat to Annis as he went. ‘Mornin’, ma’am.’

‘Good morning,’ Annis returned. A small crowd of villagers was gathering now to see what was going on, appearing from the fields and lanes as though drawn by some mysterious silent message. A few came running up the path from Eynhallow village to see what was happening, whilst the farm workers abandoned their tools and hastened over to the tollbooth. It seemed to Annis as though they were scenting trouble and had come to watch.

The workmen, meanwhile, were leaning on their spades, the carter’s mate was grinning, hands on hips, and Ellis Benson looked as though he thought he should intervene to support the tollkeeper, but really did not want to get involved. The carter unhooked the chain from across the road and urged the horse through.

‘Tell you what, Harry Castle, you’ve made yourselves no friends taking coin from that Ingram. Bloody thief, that man is.’

Castle was sweating, the beads of perspiration running down his face.

‘I’m only trying to make an honest shilling from an honest day’s work, unlike you, Jem Marchant! What you got under that manure, then? Something you should be paying for, I’ll warrant!’

‘Why don’t you look then, nosy?’ The carter’s mate stuck his chest out aggressively. ‘Don’t like to get your hands dirty, do you?’ He spat out the straw he was chewing with deliberate insult in the direction of the builders. ‘Incomers!’ he said with disgust. ‘Ingram ’as to bring men in and pay them over the odds to do his dirty work for ’im.’

A growl went through the ranks of the assembled workmen. Despite the hot sunlight the atmosphere seemed suddenly chill. The workmen were shuffling and looking as though they would like to use their spades on the carter and his mate, and only a sharp word from Benson held them back. The villagers were also angry, swaying like corn with the wind coming up. Annis realised that at any moment the whole situation could go up like a tinderbox.

She backed towards the carriage, wishing now that she had not got down in the first place. The movement drew the attention of the carter’s burly mate.

‘Ain’t that Mr Lafoy’s carriage?’ He looked at Annis with sudden suspicion. ‘They’re all ’ere today, ain’t they? All Ingram’s vultures.’ He took a menacing step towards Annis.

‘Now just a minute,’ Castle said, the sweat dripping off his chin as he looked anxiously from Annis to the crowd, ‘this is Lady Wycherley from Starbeck, and no enemy of yourn. She may be a Lafoy, but she’s got nothing to do with Ingram.’

It was enough to give the carter’s mate pause. He tugged his forelock a little bashfully. ‘Beg pardon, ma’am. Dare say you cannot help being Mr Lafoy’s cousin.’

‘Not really,’ Annis said. ‘It was something I was born with.’

The carter tied his horse to a fence post and came bustling up. He thrust his face close to Annis’s own. ‘All the same, ma’am, you tell that Mr Lafoy that we don’t like turncoats up here in the valley. If he shows his face around here, he’ll be sorry—’

Ellis Benson started forward, obliged to intervene at last. ‘How dare you threaten Lady Wycherley, man—’

It was the spark that set light to the tinder. Within a second it seemed to Annis that the fists were flying as the villagers pelted Ingram’s workmen with stones and the carter and his mate set about Benson and Castle with gusto. Annis sidestepped the carter’s wildly swinging right fist and tried to gain the shelter of the carriage, but just as she reached it a stone hit the Lafoy crest on the bodywork beside her head and splintered into pieces. Annis felt a sharp sting along her cheekbone and put up a hand in astonishment. Her fingers came away with blood on them.

There was a drumming of hooves on the road and the dust swirled up. Annis spun around. An arm went about her waist, scooping her off her feet, and the next moment she was on the saddlebow of a huge bay stallion, whose rider brought the dancing creature sharply under control with a single flick of the reins. The whole experience, so quick and so sudden, literally took her breath away; looking down from what seemed a great height, she realised that it had had a similar effect on the carter and his mate. Both had dropped their fists and were gaping up at her rescuer as though the hand of God had intervened.

‘What the devil is going on here?’ Adam Ashwick’s incisive tones cut across the fight and brought all the men there to their senses. They fell apart from each other, panting heavily, hanging their heads, dropping the stones and shovels that had served them as weapons. Castle put up his sleeve to staunch the blood running from a cut on his forehead. Benson, who seemed to have had the best of the fight owing to a promising amateur career in pugilism, straightened up and pushed the hair back from his forehead.

‘Lord Ashwick!’

‘Benson.’ Adam’s tone was menacing. ‘I do not believe that your employer pays you to come to fisticuffs on the king’s highway?’

Benson’s glance turned to Annis. ‘I beg your pardon, Lord Ashwick. I was attempting to defend Lady Wycherley.’

‘Very commendable of you, Benson.’ There was amusement now in Adam Ashwick’s tone. ‘You may safely leave Lady Wycherley’s defence to me now.’

Annis felt his breath stir her hair. She tried to turn to look at him, but he was holding her too tight and too close, with one arm still about her waist and the other holding the reins, and effectively trapping her in front of him. His chest was hard against her back and Annis could feel the beat of his heart. She kept very still.

‘Yes, my lord.’ Benson sketched a bow to Annis and turned away to marshal his workmen, and Adam reined in the chestnut stallion, which was tossing its head skittishly at the crowd. He raised his voice again.

‘Get back to work, all of you! Don’t you have better things to do than stand around here causing trouble?’

‘No, my lord!’ someone shouted. ‘This is as good as a play, and cheaper!’

There was a rumble of laughter. The tension was dissipating now and the crowd started to chatter and melt away. Annis felt Adam’s arms relax a little about her, but he showed no signs of letting her go. He looked down at the hapless carter and his mate.

‘As for you, Marchant, and you, Pierce, I should haul you before the magistrates for breach of the peace!’

The carter looked sheepish. ‘No harm done, m’lord. Apologies, my lady. We never meant to hurt you.’

‘Pay your toll and get going,’ Adam said abruptly. He turned his head and spoke in Annis’s ear.

‘And now, Lady Wycherley, what the deuce are you doing here?’

Annis turned in his arms and found that his face was very close to hers. There was a frown between his brows and his gaze was very stern. At such close quarters Annis could see his features in perfect detail. His eyes, so cool and grey, were fringed by thick black lashes. There was a crease down one cheek that deepened when he smiled. His skin had a golden sheen and there was a trace of stubble darkening his jaw and chin. It felt odd to be so close to him. Odd in an entirely pleasurable way. Annis felt warm and a little light-headed. Her body softened almost imperceptibly against Adam’s and, as his arms tightened about her again, she saw a flash of desire mirrored in his eyes, hot, sudden, shocking.

‘What are you doing here?’ Adam repeated, very softly.

Annis straightened up hastily.

‘I was paying my toll, my lord,’ she said acerbically. ‘As one does.’

Adam’s gaze went from her flushed face to the carriage, and back again. ‘You are here alone?’

Annis was starting to feel guilty as well as flustered. It made her more annoyed. ‘No. I am not alone. I have my coachman and groom.’

‘Lafoy’s coachman—and Lafoy’s coach.’

Annis sighed sharply. ‘As you see, my lord. Would you let me down, if you please? Whilst I appreciate your intervention, I should like to continue to Starbeck now.’

Adam shook his head. ‘Presently. I would like to speak with you first, if you please.’

Annis opened her eyes wide. ‘Here?’

‘Why not?’ Adam gave her a crooked smile. ‘I find I rather like…our current situation.’

Annis was not in a position to argue. Adam drew rein alongside the coach and leaned across to address the shaken coachman.

‘Drive up to the first crossroads. It leads to Eynhallow and you should have no trouble there. I shall bring Lady Wycherley along in a moment.’ He pulled the horse back and raised his whip in salutation as the coach lurched ahead of them, following the cart up the track. Then he tossed a coin to the tollkeeper and swung down from the saddle, holding his arms out to help Annis dismount.

Annis was both disconcerted and annoyed that she had no other choice but to accept his aid. It was a long way down to the ground and she had no desire to turn her ankle by trying to jump. She placed her hands lightly on Adam’s shoulders and slid down, feeling his arms close about her again to steady her. For a second his cheek brushed hers, his dark hair soft against her skin, then he stepped back and released her gently.

‘You are importunate, my lord,’ Annis snapped, thoroughly ruffled now, ‘both in the way you…you picked me up and the way you set me down!’

Adam raised a quizzical brow. He looped the horse’s reins over his arm. ‘I beg your pardon if I disturbed you, Lady Wycherley.’

Annis turned slightly away and smoothed her skirts down in self-conscious fashion. Adam had disturbed her—very much—but she did not want to admit it. After a moment she was able to regain her composure and fall into step with him on the sun-baked road. The echo of the carriage wheels was dying away up the track and the builders had returned to their work on the tollhouse, and there was no sound but for the birds in the trees and the faint bleating of the sheep in the fields.

‘You are not too shaken, I hope, Lady Wycherley,’ Adam asked, casting her a look of concern. ‘I doubt that they would have hurt you—you simply became caught in the crossfire.’

‘I know.’ Annis put her fingers to her cheek again. The bleeding had stopped, but it felt a little sore. ‘I suppose I was ungracious just now, my lord, and I should thank you for your prompt action. It was kind of you to come to my rescue.’

Adam smiled. Annis’s errant heart did a little flip at the sight of it. ‘It was the first time that I have swept a lady off her feet,’ he said slowly.

The air between them seemed to sizzle with the heat of the day—and something else.

‘I doubt that,’ Annis said, trying to remain practical, ‘and, as a chaperon, I must object to being swept.’

Adam raised one dark brow. ‘Why is that? Do chaperons never experience any adventure, my lady?’

‘Certainly not. It goes against the grain.’

Adam stepped closer. ‘I should imagine that the most useful experience for a chaperon would be to undergo all the things that might happen to one of your charges, in order to be able to advise them what to do in each circumstance.’

Annis choked on a laugh. ‘An outrageous suggestion, my lord!’

Adam shrugged. ‘Tell me if you change your mind, Lady Wycherley.’

Annis started to walk again, her fingers straying to her cheek where the cut was feeling hot and itchy in the sunshine. She saw Adam glance at her and then he took her arm.

‘Come into the shade,’ he said abruptly. ‘I want to have a look at that scratch on your cheek.’

Annis tried to pull away, feeling panic stir in her again. ‘It is nothing—’

‘Nevertheless, I would like to make sure.’

Adam drew her into the shade of a spreading oak tree, dropped the horse’s reins and left the stallion grazing docilely on the bank. He turned to Annis, taking her chin in one hand and tilting her face up to the light. His gaze was intent, his touch was gentle and impersonal, but Annis nevertheless felt as though it was branding her. She tried not to jump away. No one had touched her for a very long time. No one had ever touched her with such tenderness.

‘Hold still…’ Adam’s voice was barely above a murmur, his fingers as light as the stroke of a feather. ‘There is a graze on your cheek, but I do not think it will leave a scar.’

‘It is nothing.’ Annis said again. Her voice was shaky. ‘Please, my lord—’

Adam dropped his hand. His gaze fell to her lips. Suddenly the air between them, hot and heavy already, seemed even more heated.

Annis found that she was shaking. ‘I must rejoin my carriage, my lord,’ she whispered. ‘I am expected at Starbeck—’

There was a pause, then Adam stepped back. ‘Of course. It is only a little further up the road.’

There was a stiff silence between them as they scrambled back down on to the track. When Adam offered her his hand to help her down, Annis hesitated before taking it. Finally, when they were once more walking up towards the crossroads, Annis spoke slowly.

‘How is it, my lord, that it has become dangerous for me to travel alone in the countryside I have known all my life?’

Adam shrugged. ‘These are unhappy times, my lady. Mr Ingram is tightening his grip on a populace already worn down by hunger and poverty. You saw the hostility to the imposition of the tolls just now. It is an even choice as to who is hated more here—Ingram for his greed and meanness or your cousin Charles Lafoy, who was one of them and has now become Ingram’s creature.’

Annis’s lips tightened. She felt indignation on Charles’s behalf but she was afraid for him as well. She had had intimations of this in her letters from the Shepherd family at Starbeck, but this made it all much more real. And more serious.

‘Is it truly so bad? I had not realised. I have read in the papers about the riot over the enclosure of Shawes Common and the arson attacks on Mr Ingram’s property, but—’ she frowned ‘—I had not imagined the hostility to be so strong.’

Adam cast her a look. ‘Even in Harrogate it is sometimes easy to forget the feelings that run high out in the countryside. Perhaps your cousin does not yet realise how much he is disliked, or perhaps he feels that it is worth it for what Ingram must pay him.’

Annis flashed him a look of dislike. ‘I do not believe you should make such an assumption, my lord! You can have no idea why Charles chooses to work for Mr Ingram.’

Adam gave her a cynical look. ‘Do you know why he does? You are very loyal, Lady Wycherley, but perhaps that loyalty is misplaced. Unless I miss my guess, it will be put to the test all too soon.’

Annis stopped abruptly in the middle of the dusty road. ‘Pray explain exactly what you mean by that, my lord!’

‘With pleasure. I am speaking of Starbeck. It is common knowledge that Mr Ingram wants that property. Perhaps he has already made you an offer for it.’ His searching gaze studied her indignant face. ‘No? He will. He is waiting for Lafoy to do his dirty work for him.’

Annis raised her brows haughtily. ‘And?’

‘And Lafoy has already been preparing the ground. The reason that you have not had a permanent tenant at Starbeck for the past two years, Lady Wycherley, is that your cousin has deliberately avoided finding one. He wishes the house to fall down and for you to be unable to afford the repairs. That way Mr Ingram can step in—and make a lower offer.’ Adam laughed. ‘Did you not suspect any of this?’

‘No!’ Annis said hotly. She recovered herself. ‘Nor do I believe you, sir. You are stirring up trouble because of your dislike for Mr Ingram.’

Adam shrugged easily. ‘I cannot deny that I detest Ingram. That is beside the point, however. You will soon see that I am right.’

Annis glared at him from under the brim of her straw hat. ‘You are an odious man, Lord Ashwick.’

‘Why? Because I tell the truth?’ Adam quirked a brow.

‘No. You know what I mean. To set me against my cousin…’

Adam’s expression became grimmer. ‘I am sorry that you see it like that, Lady Wycherley.’ He gestured to the carriage, drawn up ahead of them at the crossroads. ‘Go to Starbeck! See for yourself.’

‘I will!’ Annis said. She was afraid that she sounded sulky, but could not quite help herself. She was very afraid that all the things Adam was saying might be true. He put his hand on her arm.

‘But before you go, Lady Wycherley, just how odious do you think me?’

‘I…oh…’ Annis’s gaze fell before his searching look. ‘I beg your pardon, Lord Ashwick. I meant that what you said was odious, and not that you yourself…’ She faltered. ‘That is, I thought it unkind in you to speak as you did.’

‘I see,’ Adam said. He gave her a crooked smile. ‘I suppose I should be grateful that you make a distinction.’ He took her hand and pressed a kiss to the palm. ‘Good day, Lady Wycherley.’

Aware that her face was now as red as a setting sun, Annis scrambled up into her carriage with absolutely no decorum. She tried to ignore Adam’s hand outstretched to help her, but he outmanoeuvred her by the simple expedient of taking her elbow to help her up. He stood back and raised his hand in mocking farewell.

‘Drive on!’ Annis said crossly to the coachman, well aware that even as the coach turned the corner and Adam Ashwick was left behind, her palm still tingled with the imprint of his kiss.

Annis’s journey home that evening was uneventful, which was fortunate as she had plenty to think about. Whenever she tried to concentrate on the shocking dilapidation of Starbeck, she found herself thinking instead of Adam Ashwick, and not of the Adam from whom she had parted in a temper, but the one who had held her with such heart-shaking tenderness. She was out of all patience with herself by the time she reached Church Row and was glad to partake of a solitary supper. She had just finished the meal when there was a knock at the door.

‘Your cousin is here,’ Mrs Hardcastle announced, coming into the dining room and wiping her hands on her apron. The housekeeper had been with the Lafoy family for years and, when Annis had returned to England, had gladly accepted a post in her household. Her husband, who had died some ten years previously, had been the family’s coachman. These days Annis made do with a very small staff, of which Mrs Hardcastle was the undisputed matriarch. She was a tiny woman with bright dark eyes and a bosom encased in black that jutted like a shelf. It was unfortunate, Annis thought, that the bosom was what always drew the eye first. Plenty of gentlemen had been accused of ‘sauce’ for staring incredulously at Mrs Hardcastle’s figure, when in fact it was difficult to look elsewhere.

‘Powerful big bunch of flowers Mr Lafoy’s got with ’im,’ Mrs Hardcastle continued. She fixed Annis with a disapproving eye. ‘He ain’t come courting ’as he, Miss Annis?’

Annis put her book aside a little regretfully. She had been enjoying the peace. ‘I doubt it, Hardy. Charles does not appear interested in the Misses Crossley and he has never shown any urge to marry me!’

Mrs Hardcastle sniffed. ‘Well, I haven’t seen a bouquet so large since Mrs Arbuthnot’s funeral, Miss Annis. You bin reading books at the table again? T’ain’t good for you, you know. You need a bit of company.’

‘I like my own company,’ Annis said, getting to her feet. ‘Still, as Charles is here I suppose I had better see him. Please show him into the drawing-room, Hardy.’

When she went into the room, Charles was standing before the fireplace, a bunch of pink roses in one hand. He was fidgeting a little nervously with his neckcloth. When he saw Annis he looked simultaneously anxious and relieved, and came over to kiss her.

‘Annis? You are well? Benson rode over this afternoon and told me what had happened at the tollhouse.’

‘That was nice of him,’ Annis said composedly. ‘Are those flowers for me, Charles? How kind of you.’

‘They are from Mr Ingram,’ Charles said, holding the bouquet out to her a little awkwardly. ‘He was most distressed to hear what had happened.’

‘Please thank him from me.’ Annis laid the flowers on the sideboard. ‘It was an unpleasant experience, but I assure you I came to no harm.’

She sat down and, after a moment, Charles did the same, taking the chair opposite. He adopted such a concerned look that Annis was hard put to it not to laugh.

‘Truly, Charles, I am very well. Lord Ashwick arrived before too much harm was done. I fear your carriage has suffered a few dents, however.’

‘Never mind the carriage.’ Charles sat forward. ‘Ellis said that Ashwick had turned up. I suppose I should be grateful to him for rescuing you.’ He sounded both dubious and unwilling. ‘The trouble is that every time I hear of Ashwick’s involvement in one of these situations I am convinced he has stirred up the trouble in the first place!’

Annis raised her brows. ‘I think you may acquit him of that, Charles. He was nowhere near the tollhouse when the altercation broke out. It was a carter called Marchant and his companion who started to goad the workmen.’

‘Ellis told me,’ Charles said glumly. ‘Trouble is, Annis, there is more than one way of stirring rebellion. Ashwick’s brother is the rector of Eynhallow, you know, and preaches fierily against exploitation.’

Annis sighed. ‘If he is anything like Lord Ashwick, I imagine he is not subtle about it!’

Charles looked rather amused. ‘I say, Annis, what has Ashwick done to upset you?’

‘Oh, nothing,’ Annis said quickly. She did not want to let her cousin know that it was Adam who had told her about Starbeck, for that did smack of making trouble. ‘I find him somewhat brusque, that is all.’

Charles looked amused. ‘I thought that you liked him.’

Annis gave him a straight stare. She was not about to admit to a partiality for Lord Ashwick, no matter that there was a grain of truth in Charles’ words. ‘Did you, Charles?’

Charles crossed his legs. ‘Do not seek to gammon me, Annis! At the theatre the two of you looked more than cosy together.’

‘As far as I am aware, Lord Ashwick is cosy with Miss Mardyn rather than anyone else.’ Annis shifted a little. She knew that she was turning a little pink. ‘Now, Charles, do not seek to distract me. I must speak with you about Starbeck.’

There was a knock and Mrs Hardcastle came in with a tray and two glasses of wine. She slapped it down on the sideboard.

‘There you are, Mr Lafoy. Get that inside you. My nephew’s best elderflower cordial, that is. Got yourself a wife yet, have you?’

She thrust a glass at Charles, who looked revolted for a second but manfully covered his lapse. ‘Thank you, Hardy. No, I fear I have not yet found a lady willing to take me on.’

‘You should ask your cousin to find you an heiress,’ Mrs Hardcastle said, with a grim nod at Annis. ‘Powerful good at settling these girls, Miss Annis is. Why, you should see her with these two little minxes we have now! As good as betrothed already, they are! Though why anyone would want to marry the elder girl—’

‘Thank you, Hardy,’ Annis said, a little desperately.

‘Vulgar, vulgar, vulgar!’ Mrs Hardcastle finished triumphantly. ‘Excuse me, miss. I have to finish up in the scullery this evening. There’s a mouse’s nest in there. Quite a plague there was this last winter.’

‘How on earth you cope with her I’ll never know,’ Charles said, as the door closed behind the housekeeper. ‘I know she has been worked for the family for years, but surely it is time to pension her off?’

‘Hardy would go into a decline if she were not busy all the time,’ Annis said. ‘She is like me in that respect, Charles. She would never forgive me if I told her we wanted to lose her services.’

‘Have you asked her?’ Charles enquired. ‘She might be grateful to hang up her apron.’ He took a sip of the wine and grimaced. ‘Ugh! This is too sweet for me.’

‘Pour it on the trailing ivy,’ Annis instructed, waving towards the impressive collection of greenery that decorated a corner of the room. ‘It thrives on the cordial! I have watered it often enough with mine.’

‘So you wished to speak of Starbeck,’ Charles said, when he had regained his seat. ‘How did you find it, Annis?’

Annis looked him in the eye. ‘It was shockingly bad, Charles. The roof leaks so much that one of the bedrooms has an impromptu indoor waterfall and the wood of the front door has swollen in the damp of the winter, then dried out in the summer and cracked across the frame. Several of the windows are broken and the place is infested with mice.’ Annis made a hopeless gesture. ‘And about it all is an air so tumbledown and neglected that I think it would take a fortune to put to rights. You know as well as I that I do not possess such a fortune.’

Charles was looking tired. He ran a hand through his fair hair. ‘I have tried, Annis. The money you have sent me has all been passed to Tom Shepard to spend on the upkeep of the home farm. There is simply not enough to go round.’

‘He told me.’ Annis passed her cousin a glass of brandy from the decanter. ‘He said that there were insufficient funds and that you had too little time to spend there.’

Charles flushed guiltily. ‘It is true that I have been very busy of late. My work for Ingram…’ He shrugged expressively.

‘Tom was telling me that there has been a poor harvest these two years past and a bad winter this year. People are barely surviving, Charles.’

Charles shifted, leaning forward. ‘Annis, I know you are opposed to selling, but for the sake of the estate you must consider it.’

Annis jumped to her feet. Her instinctive reaction was to refuse. ‘No!’ She swung around. ‘Charles, one of the reasons that Starbeck is in such a parlous state is that there has been no permanent tenant for over two years.’ She hesitated. ‘Have you tried—truly tried—to find one for me?’

There was a moment when her cousin looked her in the eye and she was convinced he was going to tell her the truth. Adam’s words rang in her ears: The reason that you have not had a permanent tenant at Starbeck for the past two years, Lady Wycherley, is that your cousin has deliberately avoided finding one. He wishes the house to fall down and for you to be unable to afford the repairs. That way Mr Ingram can step in…

Then Charles looked away and fidgeted with his empty brandy glass.

‘Annis…’ His tone was reasonable. ‘Of course I tried…’

‘I see.’ Annis felt a chill. ‘Yet you found no one.’

‘It is not all bad news,’ Charles said encouragingly. ‘Mr Ingram would be interested in buying Starbeck from you, Annis.’

Annis glared at him. ‘I am sure that he would, Charles.’

Charles got to his feet. ‘I must go. Please think about Ingram’s offer, Annis. It would solve your difficulties.’ He came across to kiss her cheek and it was only by an effort of will that Annis did not pull away.

‘Goodnight, Charles,’ she said tightly.

After her cousin had gone, Annis sat by the window and looked out over the twilit garden. She could not bear to sell Starbeck. It would be like selling a part of her independence. As for Charles, for all his denials, she did not trust him. It had all happened just as Adam Ashwick had predicted.

Annis found that she was looking across to the houses opposite, where the lights burned in the house Adam had taken. She wondered if he had returned to Harrogate that afternoon or whether he had stayed at Eynhallow. Then she wondered when she would see him again, and then wondered why she was wondering! Finally, in a burst of irritation, she twitched the curtains closed and went up to bed, to dream, blissfully, about being swept off her feet.