Читать книгу An Unlikely Suitor - Nicola Cornick, Nicola Cornick - Страница 8

September 1812

‘Just how many pairs of gloves does a lady need, Lavender?’ Caroline Brabant asked her sister-in-law.

The two of them were sitting in the library at Hewly Manor, a long elegant room lined with walnut bookshelves that the Admiral, Lavender’s father, had stocked with all manner of fascinating collections from his travels abroad. Caroline was reclining on the sofa and Lavender had just finished reading aloud to her from Sense and Sensibility, a novel of manners and morals that they were both enjoying.

Lavender looked up from the book. Caroline’s query sounded idle but Lavender knew that she seldom asked pointless questions. Nor, being a lady of quality, did Caroline need Lavender’s advice on matters of elegance. There had to be another reason for the question…

‘I am not sure, Caro,’ she began carefully. ‘Three or four, perhaps? A best and second best pair and a pair for evenings—’

Caroline sighed and put aside her magazine. ‘Hammonds the drapers must find you quite their best customer then,’ she observed gently, ‘for by my calculations, you have bought no less than six pairs of gloves in the last quarter alone!’

Lavender avoided her eyes. Caroline was disconcertingly shrewd.

‘If not gloves then bonnets, scarves or materials…’ Caroline was saying now. ‘Have all your clothes worn out at the same time, Lavender?’

Lavender jumped up and crossed to the library window. Dusk was falling across Hewly Manor gardens and it was time to light the candles. She kept her back to Caroline and tried to speak casually.

‘You know how it may be, Caro…’ She was proud of the lightness of her tone. ‘Sometimes everything seems to need replacing at once! Now that it is autumn again I find I have a need for some new items, warmer clothes to suit the weather—’ She broke off, aware that she was starting to ramble and sure that she could feel Caroline’s intent gaze riveted on the back of her head. Usually she was delighted to have Caroline’s companionship and felt that her brother Lewis could not have made a better match. Usually, but not today. Not when Caroline was in the kind of mood to press her on her new-found interest in drapery.

‘I think I shall take a walk before dark,’ she said hastily, feeling the need to escape Caroline’s shrewd eye. ‘I have the headache and a brisk stroll around the gardens may help…’

Caroline picked up the needlework that lay beside her on the rose brocade sofa. ‘Very well. I shall not offer to accompany you, for I find I tire so easily these days.’ She tilted her head to consider the baby clothes that she was embroidering with such enviable skill. ‘I believe I shall be in need of some more thread tomorrow. Perhaps you would be so good as to walk into Abbot Quincey and purchase some for me, Lavender?’

Lavender shot her a suspicious look, but Caroline’s face was serene as she bent over her work. Now that she was increasing, there was an air of contentment about her that Lavender thought was even more marked than in the first days of her marriage to Lewis. Unfortunately for Lavender, Caroline’s pregnancy had affected neither the quickness of her mind nor her powers of observation.

Lavender closed the library door softly behind her. She could hear a bell ringing in the depths of the house as Caroline called for the candles to be lit, and a housemaid scurried out of the servants’ quarters, dropped Lavender a curtsey and gave her a smile, before hastening to do the mistress’s bidding. Lavender had been quick to see that all the servants liked Caroline. There was such an air of peace about Hewly these days, though Caroline joked that all that would be ruined once the baby was born.

Lavender went to fetch her coat and boots from the garden room. The house was spick and span, though giving the impression of being a little frayed at the edges. There was little spare money for refurbishment, for Lewis was ploughing it all back into the estate in order to repair the neglect of the last few years. Lavender did not mind—she found Hewly’s worn elegance comforting and tasteful, and besides, she knew that whilst they were still in mourning for her father it would not be appropriate to begin a major restoration. Lewis had hinted that they might go up to Town the following autumn, but Lavender hoped that they would not. She had endured one tedious London Season four years before and had no wish to be bored by another. Yet it did raise the spectre of her future, for now that Lewis was married and with a family on the way she did not wish to hang on his coat-tails. Neither he nor Caroline would ever give the impression that she was an unwelcome third, but even so…

Lavender went out of the front door and paused for a moment on the gravel path, trying to decide which way to go. Before her, the formal parterre led to the walled gardens and beyond that to the orchard. She could see the moon rising through the branches of the apple trees. She drew on one of the many pairs of gloves that Caroline had referred to, and started to walk along the path.

Perhaps, Lavender thought as she walked, she could become one of those redoubtable maiden aunts upon whom every family depended. As Lewis and Caroline’s brood expanded she could be an additional nursery nurse and governess, indispensable to servants and family alike. Everyone would remark on how good she was with the children and how they doted on her. As she grew older she could become eccentric, buy herself a cottage and keep cats. She would have her painting and her botany…

Lavender’s pace slowed. The truth was that the thought left her with a hollow feeling somewhere inside her. She had every intention of being a devoted aunt to Lewis and Caroline’s children, but what if she wished for a family of her own? She was unhappily aware that at three and twenty she was well past marriageable age and that she had never met a man who made her pulse race. Well, if she were honest, she had met one, and that was the root of the whole trouble…

She reached the orchard and stopped for a moment whilst the wind snatched the fallen leaves from the path and whirled them around her. The sky was a clear, dark blue and it promised to be a chilly night. It was September, one of Lavender’s favourite months, but already she could feel the year turning, echoing her own feeling of passing time.

On impulse she let herself out through the door in the wall and found herself in the cobbled street that led from the Manor down to the Steep River, past the Guarding Academy. She had not intended to walk far, but now that darkness was falling a sudden inclination took her down to the water, along the Abbey wall and to the edge of the woods. In the daylight Lavender wandered far and wide with no concerns for distance or safety but it was not so sensible to do so at night. She had heard that there were poachers in the woods, and whilst she thought they would not hurt her, it was best not to be seen. Lavender shivered a little in the sharp breeze. She had seen and heard plenty of odd things in the time that she had lived in Steep Abbot, but she never told a soul…

She passed the Guarding Academy and smiled a little as she heard the faint sound of singing on the air. Tonight must be choir practice. The music followed her down to the river, where it was lost amongst the noise of the tumbling water. The moon was a silver disc on the rippling surface and the wind hummed in the trees.

There was a short cut along the edge of the woods back to the Manor gardens, a little path that was bordered on one side by a stone wall and had the whispering trees on the other. It was only a step back to the Hewly estate, but for some reason Lavender felt unexpectedly nervous. Telling herself that it was hunger and not fear that rumbled in her stomach, she stepped out boldly.

She had gone only four paces when she almost stumbled over a large sack that was lying at the side of the path. She looked around hastily, but there was no one in sight. The shadows were thick beneath the trees and the leaves rustled. She could still hear the sound of the river running, for it was only a few yards behind her.

Gooseflesh crept along Lavender’s skin. She could not decide what to do. She could retrace her steps and go home the way she had come, or she could pass by, pretending that she had noticed nothing. That was surely better than opening the sack and discovering some choice piece of game that a poacher was about to reclaim. Then she thought she heard a sound from inside the bag and in spite of her better judgement, she bent down. She had just stretched her hand towards it, when the whole sack shifted of its own accord, as though possessed. Lavender let out an involuntary scream.

Immediately there was a step behind her on the path and before she could even stand up, someone grabbed her arm and spun her round.

Lavender found herself in the rough embrace of someone who clearly wished to prevent her from screaming again. One of his arms was tight about her waist and the coarse material of his coat scored her cheek. He was very tall. And broad. Her hands were pressed against his chest and she was conscious of the hard muscle beneath her fingers and the steady beat of his heart.

Curiously this discovery led Lavender to become acutely aware of the information her senses were providing. She could hear the rustle of the trees mingled with her assailant’s breathing, feel the cold touch of the breeze and the warmth of his skin as he bent his head and his cheek brushed her hair. And he smelled wonderful, a mixture of cold air and the faint tang of citrus. It was this last impression that somehow weakened her and she felt her legs tremble and his arm tighten about her in response.

‘Mr Hammond!’

Lavender could not have said how she knew his identity but she had no doubts at all, and the words were out before she even had time to think. She pushed a little shakily against the man’s chest and he let go of her at once, stepping back so that he was facing her, a few steps away.

‘Miss Brabant!’ Barnabas Hammond’s voice was as slow and thoughtful as she remembered, but warmed now by an amusement that Lavender felt was surely out of place. She had always liked the way that Barney spoke, with perfect courtesy but no hint of deference. His father was always obsequious towards his upper-class clients in the draper’s shop, and Lavender found this grated on her, particularly when she had seen his dismissive scorn towards the poorer customers. She had observed that Barney always treated everybody in exactly the same way and had liked him for it.

Now, however, she felt oddly at a loss, as though the clear definition of their relationship had somehow been blurred. He was a shopkeeper’s son and she was an admiral’s daughter, and with the shop counter between them she had allowed herself to dream a little. He might always speak to everyone in the same manner, but there was a decided hint of warmth when he addressed her, an admiration in his eyes that had made her heart beat a little faster. Then he had been so kind to her when her father had died. He scarcely knew her and yet his words of comfort had been so perceptive.

Caroline was right—she had been calling in at the draper’s shop more often of late, contriving an order of ribbons here, a pair of gloves there. She blushed to think of it now. She had thought…But here her thoughts became at the best confused. Was she a snob, aware of her status and the relative inferiority of his, or was she above such things, scornful of those whose lives were ruled by rank and privilege? Whatever the case, she had never met Barnabas Hammond in a situation such as this and it made her feel strangely vulnerable.

The odd effect he had on her caused her voice to come out with decidedly squeaky overtones when she would have preferred to sound authoritative.

‘Mr Hammond, what do you mean by creeping around in the dark—and with this—’ She gestured with her foot towards the offending sack. It seemed obvious that he had been poaching and worse, that his quarry was still alive.

‘I would have thought better of you!’ she finished with self-righteous indignation.

‘Would you?’ Barney Hammond sounded surprised and amused. ‘Naturally, I am flattered, Miss Brabant, but why should you?’

Lavender frowned slightly. She could not see his expression properly, for it was almost full dark now and besides, he was possessed of a face that was inscrutable at the best of times. She had heard the maids giggling over Barney Hammond, remarking on his good looks and athletic physique, and whilst Lavender would have said that he was in no way classically handsome, she was aware that there was definitely something about him. It was a something that made her feel quite hot and bothered when she dwelt on it and it had even led Caroline once to remark, completely dispassionately, that she could see why all the village girls were wild for him.

Lavender tried to concentrate, aware that such thoughts were making matters worse rather than better. She knew that it would be best to make her excuses and leave, but Barney was waiting politely for her response and she felt it would be rude simply to walk away.

‘I did not imagine that you would stoop to poaching,’ she said coldly, indicating the sack again. It had not moved again but she knew she had not imagined it. ‘And to take your prey without killing it cleanly—that is rank cruelty!’

This time she heard him laugh. ‘Oh, so you think I am a poacher, Miss Brabant? I see!’ The warmth in his tone had slid into teasing and Lavender was even more confused. Not only was this inappropriate, it suggested that he was completely heartless!

‘What else am I supposed to think?’ she countered angrily, wondering why the timbre of his voice was so attractive when his words were so much the opposite. ‘I heard a noise from the sack—and I saw it move! And why else would you be out after dark—’

She watched in amazement as Barney crouched down on the path and loosened the string at the neck of the sack. Suddenly she did not want to see whatever poor, maimed creature was inside.

‘I pray you, put it out of its misery quickly,’ she said hastily, looking the other way. ‘How can you be so unkind—’

‘Putting them out of their misery was precisely what my father intended,’ Barney said dryly. ‘I fear that you have jumped to the wrong conclusions, Miss Brabant.’

Lavender heard a tiny mewing sound and looked round sharply. Barney was easing something gently out of the sack, something soft, fluffy and with very sharp claws. Lavender saw him wince as the kitten sank teeth and claws simultaneously into his hand.

‘Oh, there are two of them!’

‘Yes, and not precisely grateful for my clemency!’

Lavender stepped closer and Barney opened his fist to reveal the two tiny bodies. They were shivering a little, peering round with huge-eyed apprehension. Lavender put a hand out and tentatively stroked one tiny head.

‘Oh, how adorable! But—’ She looked up suddenly into his face. ‘The sack—you were going to drown them in the river?’

‘My father intended them for such a fate,’ Barney corrected her. He was stroking the kittens with gentle fingers and Lavender could hear their ecstatic purrs. ‘Their mother was a stray and he did not wish to encourage her, but my sister Ellen had grown much attached to the kittens and begged me to find them a good home. So I offered to take them away and my father assumed I would get rid of them.’

Lavender shivered. ‘But what were you intending to do with them? Has someone offered to take them in?’

For the first time, Barney looked a little shifty. ‘Not exactly. There is an old byre just up the path and I was intending to make a nest for them there and leave them overnight. I was just collecting bedding for them when you stumbled upon the sack! Then tomorrow, if I could, I hoped to persuade someone to give them a home…’

Lavender raised her eyebrows. ‘That does not sound a very good plan! They might stray away and they can scarce be expected to catch their own food, you know!’

‘I brought some scraps of food and some milk with me,’ Barney said, his voice completely expressionless.

Lavender found herself trying not to laugh. It seemed ridiculous that this man had been devoting himself so wholeheartedly to the welfare of such tiny kittens. Yet the little creatures evidently liked him, for they had subsided into blissful balls of fluff under the stroking of his hands. Lavender found her mind making a sudden and unexpected leap from the fate of the kittens to the caress of Barney’s fingers, and felt herself turn hot all over.

‘Do you have any butter with you?’ she asked, somewhat at random. ‘If you butter their paws they will be too busy washing them to think of straying.’

Barney looked crestfallen. ‘I did not think of that. Do you truly think they might lose themselves in the wood?’

‘Cats are homing creatures,’ Lavender explained, glad to be able to speak with authority, ‘and they might try to find their way back to you. But they are so far from Abbot Quincey they could never make the journey! Why, they might fall in the river, or become exhausted, or be eaten—’

‘Miss Brabant, pray do not distress yourself.’ Barney sounded amused and rueful at the same time. ‘I am sure they need suffer no such injury—’

‘Well, but you cannot know that!’ Lavender said indignantly. She took a deep breath. ‘I have just the idea—I will take them back to Hewly with me and they may have a home there.’ The suggestion seemed to come from nowhere, and startled her almost as much as it seemed to surprise Barney. He stared at her through the dark.

‘You will? But—’

‘We are forever having problems with mice at the Manor,’ Lavender said, improvising hastily in order not to appear too sentimental. ‘The kittens will be the very thing to deal with them.’

Barney looked at her. It hardly needed pointing out that the kittens were scarcely bigger than mice themselves.

‘They will grow,’ Lavender said defensively, as though he had spoken aloud. ‘With a little care—’

She put out a hand for the sack, but Barney picked it up and slipped the cats back inside.

‘It is very kind of you,’ he said slowly. ‘If you are certain—’

‘Of course! And then you may tell your sister that they have gone to a good home!’

Barney looked at her inscrutably. ‘And what will you tell your brother and sister-in-law?’

‘Why, that I found the kittens in a sack on the path, just as I did! It would not do to lie, and they know me well enough to know I would not just leave them there!’

Barney swung the sack up. ‘I will escort you back to the Manor then, Miss Brabant.’

‘There is no need! And if anyone should see you—’ Lavender broke off, aware that he might misinterpret her words. She did not wish him to think that she thought herself above his company.

Barney gave her a look, but he did not speak, merely standing back to allow her to precede him along the path. It seemed that her objections had been overruled. Lavender opened her mouth to protest, then closed it again.

They went a little way in silence, then Barney said suddenly, ‘So you truly thought me a poacher, Miss Brabant?’

Lavender found herself on the defensive. ‘Well, I was not to know! Why else would a man go creeping about the woods in the dark?’

‘There could be any number of reasons, I imagine,’ Barney said surprisingly. ‘I am disappointed that you hold so low an opinion of me, Miss Brabant! I hoped you might think better of me than that!’

The last thing Lavender had expected was to find herself apologising. ‘Well, I am truly sorry, but you must allow me some justification. Besides, you made matters considerably worse by manhandling me—’ She broke off again. Perhaps it was not wise to remind him of that either. There was a pause.

‘Yes, I beg your pardon.’ She thought she could detect amusement in his tone again. ‘I believe that was purely instinctive, but I apologise for upsetting you.’

Lavender had no intention of admitting that she had been disturbed rather than upset. His proximity and his touch had quite set her senses awry and she was still trembling slightly with the same strange awareness.

They had reached the gap in the wall where the path to Hewly gardens cut across the fields, and she turned to him.

‘It would be better if you did not come any further, Mr Hammond. If anyone sees you they will know there is more to my tale than meets the eye.’ She took the sack from him. ‘Please assure your sister that I will take care of her kittens. Now I’ll bid you goodnight.’

Barney stood back and gave her a half-bow, executed as neatly as any of the gentleman of society whom she had met. He then spoiled the effect by giving her a grin, his teeth flashing very white in the moonlight.

‘Goodnight, then, Miss Brabant. And thank you.’

He had already melted into the dark as Lavender turned away to hurry across the fields to home. She found herself wanting to turn and watch him go, which impulse both puzzled and annoyed her. Grasping the kittens to her, she let herself in at the garden gate and steadfastly refused to look back. There was no doubt that Barney Hammond had disturbed her. He had disturbed her very much indeed.

‘I cannot believe that you have managed to foist two repellent strays upon this household, Lavender,’ Lewis Brabant said testily, as he disentangled one of the kittens from his trouser leg at breakfast the following morning. The little creature, a bundle of ginger fluff, hung on tenaciously. Lewis put his newspaper down and picked it up with a gentleness that belied his words. The kitten started to purr immediately and Lewis pulled a face.

‘See how she likes you,’ Caroline offered with a smile. She was feeding the other kitten on her lap and it was eating ferociously. ‘Poor little scraps—I believe they are half starved!’

Lewis made a noise indicative of disgust. ‘Well, they had best start to earn their keep! The kitchen will be the best place for them, not the drawing-room!’

‘Yes, my dear,’ Caroline said soothingly. She gave him a winning smile. ‘They will surely be warm and well fed if we keep them indoors!’ Her smile broadened. ‘You cannot cozen me—I know you think them delightfu1.’

Lewis gave a non-committal grunt and got up from the breakfast table. He bent to kiss his wife. ‘I shall be in the estate room if you need me. If I find any mice, I shall know what to do!’

Caroline was still smiling as she watched him out of the room. She turned to her sister-in-law. ‘I do believe your new pets are a success, Lavender! Lewis is quite smitten!’

Lavender raised her eyebrows. She knew that her brother’s disapproval was partly feigned but she had been hard pressed to explain her rescue of the kittens in a convincing fashion. To go out for a walk and return with two new pets in a sack was somewhat singular, especially as she was claiming simply to have found them.

‘Is it not strange,’ Caroline was musing now, ‘that the kittens were wrapped in a sack from Hammond’s store? The sort of sacking used to bind up reels of material and the like? I wonder if they have lost them? Perhaps we should ask, for they may wish for them back—’

Lavender jumped, spilling some of her hot chocolate. She had not thought of that.

‘Was it one of Hammond’s sacks? I did not notice,’ she said, as casually as she was able.

‘Which reminds me,’ Caroline continued, ‘that you promised to go to Abbot Quincey for some purchases for me today. Some embroidery thread, and I find I need some ribbons as well. I have made a list. Is that still convenient, Lavender?’

Lavender sighed. It was unfortunate that Caroline should have a commission for her today of all days. She did not wish for a walk this morning and she certainly did not want to go into Abbot Quincey and into Hammonds drapers shop. Having paid the shop too many visits in the past month, she now felt a distinct inclination to stay away from Barnabas Hammond, a need to avoid all those puzzling and disturbing feelings that he had brought to the surface. She had tossed and turned for a good hour before she had fallen asleep the previous night, and most of her thoughts had centred on Barney Hammond.

She realised that Caroline was watching her with bright hazel eyes, and that she had not yet replied.

‘It is perfectly convenient, Caro,’ she said hastily. She pushed away her plate of ham and eggs. Suddenly she did not feel so hungry.

‘I must send a message to Lady Perceval as well,’ Caroline said. ‘Now, where did I leave the writing box? In the library? I have become so tiresomely forgetful of late…’

Lavender smiled. ‘Nanny Pryor says that that happens to ladies who are increasing!’

Caroline looked offended. ‘What arrant nonsense!’

‘Then why are you wearing your thimble for breakfast, Caro?’

Caroline looked down at her finger and tutted. ‘Gracious! I could have sworn that I left that in my sewing bag!’ She caught Lavender’s eye and smiled reluctantly. ‘Very well, you have proved your point! Now, what was it that I was looking for?’

‘The writing paper.’ Lavender got up hastily. ‘I will fetch it for you, Caro! I do not wish you to become lost on your way to the library!’