Читать книгу Reawakening Miss Calverley - Sylvia Andrew - Страница 8

Rose was slow in coming, and Anne sat gazing into the fire for some time after James had gone. Her fears were briefly forgotten as she allowed herself to dream. So Mrs Culver had been wrong—James was not about to marry anyone, not engaged, and, from what he had said, didn’t have anyone in mind either…

And after Rose had come and gone she lay awake, inventing a fairy tale to keep her fears about the future at bay. She would recover her memory, and turn out to be an entirely suitable bride for an Aldhurst—the daughter of an earl perhaps, or even a duke. They would fall in love, marry and live happily ever after at Hatherton. What would it be like to sleep with the man you loved, to have his arms around you, holding you, caressing you…? Her last thought before she finally fell asleep was that, though Lord Aldhurst was most unlikely to fall in love with her, she was more than halfway to falling in love with him already.

But Anne paid dearly for indulging in these romantic fantasies, with a series of nightmares. She was faced with a dark red door that she knew was familiar, but she struggled in vain to reach its knocker…Then, in the way of dreams, the door changed into a spreading pool of dark red blood, and, terrified, she fought to save the man lying at its centre, her heart racing and gasping for breath, struggling against the cruel hands that were dragging her away…Suddenly the hands holding her were James Aldhurst’s hands, and she sobbed with relief as she looked again from the protection of his arms and saw that both the pool of blood and the body at its centre had disappeared. She turned thankfully back to him, but when she looked up, his face was cold and distant and he pushed her away, and gradually disappeared into the distance, deaf to her cries.

She woke up at last unrefreshed and lay for a while with traces of tears on her face, her mind full of the images in her dreams. They frightened and confused her—was there a clue to her identity in them? She puzzled over them for some time, but the images meant nothing to her. Her life before she had been found on the drive was still shrouded in grey fog.

And in the cold light of morning her romantic fantasy of the night before seemed more like the delusions of a lunatic. The end of the dream had been telling her as much. Lord Aldhurst would keep her safe until she knew what she was to do, but he could never consider her suitable to be his wife. Although Mrs Culver might have tried to deceive her about his marital plans, her warning was clear enough. He was the last of an ancient and distinguished family and the world would expect him to find a bride of equal rank. Wealthy, handsome, well born, with a duty to his family—why on earth should an Aldhurst ever look at penniless Miss Nobody of Nowhere, who was not even very beautiful?

For a moment she felt very sorry for herself, but was soon ashamed of indulging in so much self-pity. It was time Miss Nobody stopped being so poor-spirited, pulled herself together and started to take charge of her life instead of leaving it to others! She also had things to do!

When Mrs Culver came in an hour later she was astonished to see Anne walking round the room with grim determination.

‘Whatever are you doing?’ she exclaimed. ‘You shouldn’t be up for another hour at least. You’ll wear yourself out. Sit down and rest. Rose will fetch your breakfast.’

Anne sat down gratefully in a chair and said, ‘I’m not really ill any longer. My legs are weak, that’s all, and they won’t get any stronger if I don’t use them. It’s time I had some exercise. I don’t intend to be a burden to you all any longer than I have to.’

Mrs Culver gave a satisfied nod. ‘I’m sure I’m glad to hear you say that. And if you wish you can put on your own clothes again. I have them here. We’ve washed and pressed them for you, so they are perfectly clean.’

‘Thank you. But I’m afraid I am not. Before I dress I should like you to bring water and a towel, if you would.’

The request was reasonable enough, and if Mrs Culver experienced a touch of resentment at the hint of command in this nameless nobody’s voice it did not show. ‘There’s a bath in the dressing room next door—I’ll get the maids to fill it. And Rose will wash your hair.’

An hour later, when Anne was sitting in front of the fire while Rose dried her hair, Lord Aldhurst walked in. ‘Good morning,’ he said with a smile, ‘I’ve come to see how you are.’

‘Th-that’s very kind of you,’ stammered Anne. ‘I…I hardly expected to see you at all today. Though you did say…’ Her voice faded. This wouldn’t do. She pulled herself together, stood up and gave him a slight curtsy. ‘Good morning.’

His eyes were on her hair, which was hanging loose in dark chestnut waves down her back. ‘You look different,’ he said.

‘I should hope so indeed! Rose here has just spent a great deal of energy cleaning me up. And I feel much the better for it.’

He came forwards and, frowning, took up a lock of her hair. ‘It’s…it’s a different colour. I thought your hair was darker,’ he said.

Anne suppressed a smile and removed the hair from his fingers. ‘No, my lord,’ she said gravely, ‘it merely needed to be washed. And now it is clean. I’m sorry if you don’t like its colour, but that is what it is, I’m afraid.’ She laughed and added, ‘I consider myself fortunate. When I was a child it was much redder and I had a temper to match.’

There was a sudden silence. Then she said in a strangled voice, ‘How do I know that?’

James nodded. ‘I’m not sure, but it’s a good sign. Your memory seems to be returning, if only in fragments.’

‘That was a singularly unimportant fragment,’ said Anne bitterly. ‘My name would be more welcome.’ Then she attempted another smile, and added, ‘But beggars can’t be choosers—I suppose I should be grateful for anything at all.’ There was another short silence, and then she went on in a more formal tone, ‘Thank you for your enquiry, my lord. I am much better. I hope you have a pleasant day.’

He paused, then said, ‘Have you breakfasted? If not, do you feel strong enough to come downstairs to have it with me?’

She was so taken by surprise that she didn’t know what to say. ‘With you? I…I thought you wished me to stay in this room?’

‘I would like you to stay in your room while I am out—but you would be safe downstairs with me. Of course, if you would prefer not to join me…’

‘No, no! I should like to! But I can’t be seen downstairs with my hair like this.’

‘Shall we say in ten minutes? I’ll talk to Mrs Culver. And Rose can do whatever is necessary to your hair.’

He bowed and left the room. Rose was already busy with brush and comb, twisting and winding Anne’s hair into a graceful knot on top of her head. When she had finished she gave it a final pat and said, ‘There, miss! You look lovely. His lordship will be pleased!’ She paused. ‘But I wouldn’t be so sure about Mrs Culver.’ Anne privately agreed with the maid, but she said coolly, ‘His lordship will be relieved to see that I shall soon be strong enough to take up my own life again. And so will Mrs Culver. Thank you, Rose. Show me where the breakfast room is, if you please.’

If the caretaker at Roade House had expected to see James early that day then he would have been disappointed. James spent more than an hour over breakfast and the morning was half over before he finally rose from the table. Anne sat opposite him, a touch of colour in her cheeks and a swathe of glossy hair falling from the simple knot on top of her head. She was an altogether different creature from the pale waif he had rescued, and she intrigued and delighted him. Her dress, as Cully had said, was of poor material and very simply cut, a servant’s dress, but she wore it with an air. Though he knew she felt vulnerable, even frightened, at her inability to remember anything about herself, no one would have guessed it from her composed manner. Her conversation was of necessity not about herself, but it was lively, sometimes displaying a touch of irony that perfectly matched his own, and occasionally revealing a keen sense of the ridiculous that made him laugh out loud.

Anne in turn was equally happy in his company. He talked with affection of his grandmother, and it was clear to Anne the bond between them was very close. She was obviously a woman of strong character, but he seemed to be amused rather than annoyed by her attempts to rule his life. Anne herself was amused at Mrs Culver’s determination not to leave her alone with James. She was in and out of the breakfast room far more frequently than strictly necessary, clearly disapproving of this joint breakfast. But James ignored her frowns, and quite often called on her to confirm or add to what he said when he was telling Anne stories of his childhood at Hatherton. Anne observed with interest how quickly the housekeeper responded to James’s charm. Before breakfast was over Mrs Culver was actually smiling again.

At last James reluctantly rose from the table and said, ‘It’s no use. If I am to keep my promise to Agnew I shall have to be gone. What do you plan to do today, Anne?’

Anne looked at Mrs Culver. ‘I think I would be strong enough to do some work, if Mrs Culver has anything for me to do?’

‘It’s good of you to offer, Miss Anne, but I’m sure his lordship would prefer you to be resting in your room. And so would I.’ Mrs Culver’s tone was cool. James might be back in her favour but this didn’t extend to his guest.

James frowned, but said nothing. Instead, he turned to Anne and held out his arm with a smile. ‘Mrs Culver is right as usual. I’ll see you to your room. The stairs are steep, and you are still not quite up to strength. I don’t suppose you’ve started the book I gave you, have you?’

‘No,’ said Anne, looking at Mrs Culver’s retreating back. ‘I’m looking forward to reading it today.’ Then as they slowly mounted the stairs, she said softly, ‘You are wrong to tease Mrs Culver, Lord Aldhurst. I’m sure she has your interests at heart.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘I’m glad of your arm up these stairs, but it would have been quite easy to ask one of the servants to help me, and very much more…tactful. It’s nonsensical, of course, but Mrs Cully sees me as a threat. She doesn’t trust me.’

They had reached the door of her room. He opened it, then said softly, ‘I’m not sure it’s as nonsensical as you think, Anne.’

She looked up at him, startled. ‘You don’t trust me?’

‘Oh, I trust you, of course I do! But you’re definitely proving a threat to my peace of mind.’ He added abruptly, ‘I must go! Agnew will be wondering what has happened to me. Enjoy your day! Read the book and stay in your room! Please?’ He turned towards the stairs, stopped, turned again and said, ‘I’ll look in on you this evening to see if you like the book. May I?’

‘Of course,’ said Anne. She pulled a face. ‘I think I can safely promise to be at home, Lord Aldhurst.’

She watched him race down the stairs, then went in, closed the door and hurried to the window. Two horses, one a powerful bay, were standing outside the front doors, held by a groom. James came out, mounted the bay and they moved off. Anne followed him with her eyes until he disappeared round a bend in the drive. Then she turned with a sigh, fetched the book and sat in a chair to read it. When Rose came in with a tray an hour later she was absorbed in the story of gentle Anne Elliot.

Later that afternoon Anne abandoned her book in favour of some exercise. She was walking vigorously round the room when Mrs Culver came in, a collection of clothes over one arm. She congratulated Anne on the progress she was making, then went on, ‘I’ve looked out a change of clothing for you, Miss Anne, though if you carry on as well as you seem to be doing at the moment you may have left us before you need them all. I hope you don’t mind—they are old dresses and such of Lady Aldhurst’s.’

Anne was touched. ‘Thank you, Mrs Culver. I’m sorry to be such a nuisance.’

Mrs Culver hesitated, and then she said, ‘The underclothes may be plainer than you are used to, I think…?’

Anne was puzzled. ‘Are mine so elaborate? I hadn’t thought…’ She lifted her skirt and examined the lace round the bottom of her petticoat. ‘I suppose they are. This is beautiful. I wonder where it came from.’ She looked up to find Mrs Culver regarding her with a strange look. ‘You think I know? I only wish I did. I take it that the garments are mine?’

‘They are indeed, miss. And very fancy they are, too.’

The touch of disapproval, which almost amounted to hostility, in the woman’s voice, was accompanied by a very sharp look. Anne took a breath and said carefully, ‘You obviously regard me with suspicion, Mrs Culver. Why?’

‘I’m sorry if I’ve upset you. But I know that Lady Aldhurst’s dearest wish is to see Master James married and with a family.’

Somewhat mystified, Anne said, ‘That’s very natural. I hope she wishes him to be happy as well?’

‘Of course. And he will be, as long as he finds a wife from his own world, a lady of rank, breeding, a good name of her own that everyone knows. People in London don’t like mysteries.’

Mrs Culver’s intention was now plain. Though annoyed, Anne said calmly enough, ‘You are worried that Lord Aldhurst might be distracted from this goal by me, perhaps? You needn’t be, I assure you. But what have my clothes to do with it?’

‘They’re all wrong. Not even one of the kitchen maids here would wear the dress and boots you had on when you arrived. They’re more like a tavern wench’s things. But your underclothes are quite different.’

Anne began to laugh. ‘You’re suspicious because my chemise and my petticoat don’t match my dress and boots? But that is absurd!’

Mrs Culver flushed unbecomingly. ‘Master James brought you here, Miss Anne, and we’ve looked after you as well as anyone could expect. But—I’ll come straight out with it—we still don’t know who you are or where you came from.’

Anne gave her a twisted smile. ‘Any more than I do.’ There was an awkward, significant silence…The colour rose in Anne’s cheeks. ‘Oh, come, ma’am!’ she said angrily. ‘You surely cannot think I’m playacting!’

‘I suppose not. But how can we be sure?’

Anne went to the window and stood with her back to the housekeeper until she had mastered her anger. Then she turned and said, ‘I do not remember who I am or how I came to be lying on your drive. But I promise you that as soon as I feel I can face the world again I shall leave Hatherton, whether my memory has returned or not. Will that do?’

Mrs Culver looked uncomfortable. ‘I don’t want to be cruel, Miss Anne. But I know Master James, and I can see he’s taken a fancy to you. And it mustn’t go any further. It would break his grandmother’s heart if he married badly. He is all she has left.’

‘Yes, well, if that is the case we must hope that he doesn’t actually fall in love with someone who is as unsuitable as I am,’ said Anne crisply. ‘But he is in no danger from me.’ She took up her book. ‘Now I think I’ve had enough of this conversation. Thank you for the clothes. When Lord Aldhurst returns you may tell him that I have a headache, and would prefer not to see him this evening.’

Mrs Culver found herself curtsying in response to the authoritative tone in Anne’s voice, and left the room rather apprehensively, wondering if she was making a mistake. Those last sentences had sounded as if they came from someone of quality, not at all the owner of a shabby dress.

But she delivered Anne’s message as requested that evening. And Master James’s air of disappointment reassured her once again that she was doing the right thing.

After Mrs Culver had gone, Anne sat at the window for some time with the book on her knee, but it lay unread. She was deep in thought. The housekeeper’s suspicions were ridiculous, but Anne could not disagree with her basic message. The sooner she left Hatherton the better. She sighed and set about some serious thinking…

She reflected again on the previous night’s dreams. The red door—where was it? She could almost believe she had actually tried and failed to knock on that door, and not just in her dream…She had been excited, full of happy anticipation, she remembered…But though she tried to hold on to it the picture dissolved and turned into a pool of blood. She heard her own voice shouting hoarsely, ‘No! No! It can’t be!’ and she suddenly felt sick. She thrust the image violently away out of her mind, and the pool vanished. But she was still shivering with horror…James’s book slid to the floor as she jumped up and walked agitatedly round the room, resolutely keeping her mind blank. She would not remember, it was better not to remember…

After a moment or two she had calmed down enough to sit down again and turn her mind to other matters. Was there a clue in the petticoat and the rest of her clothes? Had the boots and dress belonged to someone else? But who could that be…?

When Rose came in Anne was wearing nothing but the blue robe, anxiously examining her underwear.

‘Help me to look at these things, Rose,’ she said. ‘There must be something about them that will tell us where they came from.’

‘I’d say that they were especially made for you, Miss Anne. You can tell that by looking at this shaping. But there’s nothing else. And this dress is just like one the girls in the village wear.’

Anne pushed the clothes away dispiritedly. ‘I’m quite tired. I think I shall go to bed, Rose. Mrs Culver knows I don’t wish to see…anyone tonight.’

Rose nodded sympathetically. ‘You’ve done too much today, miss. But his lordship will be sorry not to see you.’ She said no more as she busied herself helping Anne to prepare for bed, but just before leaving the room she asked if Anne would like a glass of milk later on. ‘It’s a long time till morning, Miss Anne. A glass of milk might be welcome. I won’t wake you if you’re asleep.’

Too weary to argue, Anne nodded her head. She was already half-asleep by the time Rose had made up the fire, drawn the curtains and slipped quietly away.

She slept soundly and dreamlessly for several hours, but woke up when she heard her door open. The fire had died down somewhat, but there was enough light for her to see someone entering the room and approaching the bed.

‘Rose?’

‘I’m afraid it isn’t Rose.’ James Aldhurst put the glass of milk he was carrying down on the table by the bed, picked up her candlestick and took it over to the fire. In a few minutes the soft glow of candles was creating a pool of light round the bed.