A Christmas Courtship (11 page)

Turning her horse, she rode swiftly away, choking back tears as she did so. No purpose had been served in coming to this place, for there was no way that truth was going to take the place of lies.

Snow was kicked up by her horse as she rode through Eastington hamlet and on toward the main highway. She was riding too quickly for the conditions, but she couldn’t help herself, she was too upset by the failure of her mission. Reaching the highway, she turned north, urging the horse almost to a gallop, but almost immediately she realized that something was wrong, and she reined in. Dismounting, she bent to inspect the horse’s off foreleg, and saw by the ominous swelling that it had gone lame. She straightened in dismay, knowing that she’d have to walk the rest of the way home.

A carriage was coming up behind her, and she turned in surprise as it drew up alongside and a voice addressed her. ‘We meet yet again, Miss Amberley.’

She found herself staring up into Sir Edmund’s clear blue eyes. ‘Good day, Sir Edmund,’ she said, her glance moving past him toward Athena’s rather stony face.

He opened the carriage door and alighted. ‘By the look of your unfortunate mount, it has gone lame,’ he said, leaning down to run an experienced hand over the animal’s foreleg.

‘It would seem so, sir,’ she replied in an unencouraging tone, for she was in no mood to indulge in conversation.

He caught the note in her voice and straightened, looking into her eyes. ‘Is something wrong, Miss Amberley?’

‘Nothing at all, sir.’

He searched her face for a moment, and then glanced at the horse again. ‘It cannot be ridden, that’s for sure.’

‘I am aware of that, Sir Edmund, and mean to lead him home.’

‘I will not hear of your walking, Miss Amberley, and gladly offer you the use of my carriage. The horse can be tethered behind, and….’

‘I would prefer to walk, sir,’ she interrupted quickly, for the
last thing she wanted was to be closeted again in his carriage.

‘You can be tiresomely independent, Miss Amberley, but I can be tiresomely insistent. I refuse to allow you to walk when there is more than sufficient room in the carriage.’ Taking her horse’s reins from her, he led it to the rear of the carriage, tethering it carefully. Then he returned and spoke to Richards. ‘Drive at a sensible pace, for the horse must not be made more lame.’

‘Yes, Sir Edmund.’

He turned to Blanche again, holding out his hand. Unwillingly she accepted, allowing him to assist her into the carriage, where Athena greeted her with absolute silence.

Blanche took the seat furthest from the vision in lemon and gray, whose flowery perfume filled the whole carriage. Sir Edmund climbed in and closed the door, and then the carriage slowly moved off.

Had she tried, Athena could not have made more plain her resentment at again having Blanche’s company thrust upon her. She kept her face averted, gazing distinterestedly at the snowy countryside, and she didn’t utter a single word. In spite of her ill-disguised anger, she was still exquisitely lovely. A few stray dark chestnut curls peeped from beneath her jockey bonnet, and there was a soft blush of rouge warming her otherwise pale cheeks. Her green eyes were like ice, and she toyed with the strings of her lozenge-shaped gray velvet reticule, snapping and unsnapping them as if they’d offended her.

Blanche endured as best she could, because something told her that she wasn’t the only cause of the heavy silence, but had merely added to an atmosphere that had been in progress before her untimely arrival on the scene. Sir Edmund and his
bride-to-be
had had an argument.

As the carriage swayed slowly along the highway, it was Sir Edmund who at last broke the silence. ‘Miss Amberley, it is somewhat unusual to have snow this early in the winter, don’t you agree?’

‘Down here in the vale, yes, it is,’ she replied lamely, ‘but the hills are often white before Christmas.’

‘I’m glad to say that English winters are far less severe than those I’ve suffered in the Spanish mountains.’

She looked at him in surprise. ‘You were in Spain during the winter? But, I thought that we only entered the war in Spain at the beginning at last summer.’

‘I was dispatched in advance, well in advance, actually, to gather as much information as possible. My stepmother was a
Spanish lady, and amused herself by teaching me her language.’

‘A great advantage for you, sir.’

‘It is indeed.’

‘Do you think we will defeat Bonaparte, Sir Edmund?’

He smiled a little. ‘Do you doubt it, Miss Amberley?’

‘Perhaps I need to be assured by someone like you, sir.’

‘Then I gladly assure you. Yes, Miss Amberley, we will defeat the Corsican. The late Mr Pitt was quite correct, the Spanish peninsula is the only place left in Europe where the process of triumphing over the French may properly commence. It will be a long campaign, with many losses on both sides, but in the end victory will be ours.’ His blue eyes rested thoughtfully on her. ‘Do you have relatives in the army or navy, Miss Amberley? Is that the reason for your concern?’

She lowered her eyes. ‘Yes, Sir Edmund, I have relatives in the army.’ For a man whose attentive ear had heard of her so-secret dealings with Antony Mortimer, he was surprisingly
uninformed
where her brother was concerned. But for how much longer? The scandal was spreading over Amberley St Mary, and was bound to reach the big house soon.

Athena made no attempt to take part in the conversation, but by her sullen mouth and stormy green eyes it was evident that she was angry that it was proceeding without her.

Blanche found the woman’s resentful silence almost
oppressive
, and felt obliged to try and draw her in. ‘Have you been for a drive, Lady Hetherington?’

The effort was in vain, for Athena looked right through her and then glanced out of the window again. Blanche colored, and fell silent.

Sir Edmund flashed an angry glance at his future wife, and then smiled apologetically at Blanche. ‘You must forgive Athena, Miss Amberley, for she’s suffered a disappointment this
morning
. Our purpose was to visit Berkeley Castle, but the snow is so deep in that direction that we were forced to turn around. It was Athena’s great wish to take luncheon at the castle, but to have continued would have been foolish.’

Athena stiffened. ‘So, I’m foolish, am I?’ she breathed.

‘Athena….’
‘I wish I’d never come to this wretched, wretched place! I thought it was the right thing to do, but now I’m not so sure.’

‘Athena, this is neither the time nor the place,’ he said a little coolly. ‘If you wish to continue with our, er, disagreement, then I will be entirely at your disposal the moment we have returned to the house.’

‘How very obliging of you, to be sure,’ Athena replied acidly.

‘London manners can be most unbecoming,’ he said shortly, his fingers drumming on the window ledge.

Another heavy silence descended over the carriage, and Blanche felt more awkward than ever. She leaned forward
hesitantly
. ‘Sir Edmund, perhaps it would be better if you set me down now. We’re almost at the village, and….’

‘Set you down? Miss Amberley, I’m not in the habit of
deserting
a lady to make her own way home, so pray do not mention the matter again.’

She sat back again, and didn’t any another word, but she wished him in Hades for his insistence upon being gallant.

The carriage drove slowly on, at last leaving the highway and striking west along the narrow lane that led to the village. She glanced out as they skirted the bank of the Severn. The water was low, dwindling away toward the next incursion of the tide. The snowy banks reflected in the smooth surface, as did the flashing sun as it shone down from the cloudless sky.

The minutes seemed to drag by before the fork in the road was reached, and then, at long last, she glanced out and saw the Red Lion. The children had long since left their play on the green, and the gaggle of gossips had returned to their various homes, no doubt to spread the whispers about what may or may not have been happening at Orchard Cottage.

Blanche glanced at Sir Edmund. How long would it be before he heard about Jonathan? Would he hear from the gossip? Or would Roderick Neville call upon him, to tell him in person? How thoughtful and gallant would the new master of Amberley Court be then? How eager would he be to be on civil and
agreeable
terms with the family of so disgraced an officer?

Richards drew the carriage to a standstill by the gate of Orchard Cottage, and Sir Edmund alighted, extending his hand
to assist Blanche down. Jake emerged from the front door, tugging off his cap as he greeted Sir Edmund.

‘Good day to you, Sir Edmund.’

‘Cutler. Please attend to Miss Amberley’s horse, I fear it has gone lame.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Jake came out through the gate, pausing uneasily to look at Blanche. ‘Miss Blanche…?’

‘Yes, Jake?’

‘Mr Mortimer has called, Mr Antony Mortimer.’ Her heart almost stopped. ‘He has?’

‘Yes, Miss Blanche.’ Jake caught her gaze and held it, shaking his head a little, warning her that all was not well.

She stared at him for a moment, dismay seeping into her heart. Had Antony heard about Jonathan? Yes, that had to be it, for why else would Jake feel the need to put her on her guard? She turned to Sir Edmund. ‘Thank you for your assistance, Sir Edmund.’

‘Not at all, Miss Amberley. By the way, apropos of my promise last night.’

‘Promise? I don’t recall a promise, Sir Edmund.’

‘Well, maybe it wasn’t exactly a promise, more a resolution on my part. It concerned the appearance on your table of game from my estate.’

Jake hastened away to untether the lame horse, leading it around the carriage and then around to the yard behind the cottage.

Sir Edmund watched him, smiling a little. ‘I fear Mr Cutler imagines I’m about to set my keepers upon him.’

‘And are you?’

‘On the contrary, I’m about to save him the trouble of setting out on a moonlit night. I was out shooting early this morning, and I have a brace of pheasants I’m sure would be to your liking.’

‘That’s very kind of you, sir.’

‘Not at all, Miss Amberley. Would it be convenient for me to bring them to you this afternoon?’

She was a little taken aback. Bring them in person? Why didn’t he send them with a servant? ‘Please call whenever you
wish, Sir Edmund,’ she said, for there was little else she could say.

‘Until later, then.’ He inclined his head. ‘Good-bye, Miss Amberley.’

‘Good-bye, Sir Edmund.’

He climbed back into the carriage, where Athena still sat in angry silence, the strings of her reticule snapping and
unsnapping
very edgily indeed.

But Blanche cared little for the state of affairs between Sir Edmund Brandon and his chosen bride, she was more concerned about what Antony was going to say to her.

Hannah was waiting in the entrance hall. ‘How did you fare, Miss Blanche?’ she asked in a whisper, glancing uneasily toward the parlor door.

‘Not well at all, I’m afraid. The odious creature refuses to retract a word.’ Blanche looked at Antony’s top hat, gloves, and riding crop, which lay on the little table. ‘I take it he’s waiting for me in the parlor?’

‘He is.’ The two words were uttered very flatly.

‘Is my father with him?’

‘No, Miss Blanche, Mr Amberley hasn’t come down from his bed today.’

‘Would you go to see if he’s awake now, and if he is just tell him that it was no good with Miss Jennings, and I’ll come up to explain everything in a while?’

‘Very well, Miss Blanche.’

‘Hannah…?’

‘Miss Blanche?’

‘Does Mr Mortimer know about Jonathan?’

The housekeeper gave a slight nod. ‘I believe so, Miss Blanche, and he’s not best pleased, not best pleased at all.’

‘I see. Thank you.’

‘He’s a bad ’un, Miss Blanche, a real bad ’un….’

‘That’s enough, Hannah.’

Without another word, the housekeeper gathered her skirts and hurried up the stairs, leaving Blanche to compose herself before entering the parlor. Turning up the black net veil on her hat, she took a deep breath and then pushed open the door.

The parlor at Orchard Cottage was a cozy, comfortable room, with wainscotted walls and a beamed ceiling that was yellow from the smoke of years. There were cupboards built into the wall on either side of the inglenook fireplace, and the
mantelpiece
bore not only a variety of candlesticks and a clock, but also three ivory-framed miniatures, one of Blanche’s mother at the time of her betrothal, one of Blanche at the age of fourteen, and one of Jonathan at the age of only ten. The chairs and sofa were upholstered in chintz, crimson-and-cream this time, and there was a scattering of rugs on the uneven stone floor. Christmas greenery adorned the mantelpiece and windows, and a bunch of mistletoe was suspended from the ceiling.

Antony stood with his back to the fire, a glass of Mr Amberley’s good cognac swirling in his hand. His brown hair was a little tousled from the ride from Gloucester, and the sting of cold air still lingered in specks of color on his cheeks. He wore a pine-green riding coat, a silver brocade waistcoat, and tight buckskin breeches, and the spurs on his topboots glittered in the firelight.

He looked swiftly toward the door as she opened it, and for the space of a heartbeat he hesitated, but then he smiled. ‘I was beginning to think you would never return from your ride.’

‘My ride? Oh, yes, of course.’ So he hadn’t been informed of her purpose. ‘I’m afraid my horse went lame, and I would still be walking home were it not for Sir Edmund’s kindness.’

‘Ah, yes, I saw from the window. You appear to be on
unexpectedly
civil terms with him.’

‘Yes, I suppose so.’ She teased off her gloves. ‘Why have you come, Antony?’

‘I promised I would, don’t you remember?’

‘Yes, I remember, but this is a little prompt, is it not? You haven’t come here to ask my father for my hand in marriage, have you?’ She dropped the gloves on a table and faced him.

‘Why so cold, Blanche?’

‘Perhaps because I’ve been warned that you aren’t exactly in an agreeable, suitor-like mood, and perhaps because I noticed your hesitation before smiling when I came in. Let us be honest, Antony; you’ve come here because you’ve heard about
Jonathan, haven’t you?’

There was another hesitation, then he nodded. ‘Yes, I have.’

‘Jonathan is totally innocent.’

He gave a short, disbelieving laugh. ‘Innocent? Are you telling me that the army isn’t looking for him?’

‘They’re looking for him, yes, but….’

‘But nothing, Blanche. He’s a deserter, and he’s cut and run because he was caught in the act of stealing!’

She stiffened, raising her chin defiantly. ‘That isn’t so.’

‘It’s all over Gloucester, Blanche. One can’t walk into any building without hearing the name of Amberley on every lip.’

‘You’ve made up your mind on the matter, haven’t you?’ she said quietly. The man standing before her now wasn’t the one who’d held her in his arms in the coachhouse at the Saracen’s Head, he was a stranger. She felt strangely numb, as if some invisible wall had encircled her, protecting her from the pain that would otherwise have engulfed her.

‘Yes, Blanche, of course I’ve made up my mind. The evidence against him is overwhelming, and only a fool would take his side.’

‘The evidence against him is a conspiracy by Lord Normanton’s son and Miss Deborah Jennings!’ cried Blanche, unable to believe that this was the Antony she’d been prepared to defy her father for.

He stared at her. ‘Lord Normanton’s son, did you say?’

‘Yes. Lieutenant Roderick Neville.’

He turned away. ‘I see. I hadn’t realized that he was the fellow officer concerned,’ he murmured.

‘What difference does that make?’

‘I take it that you intend to fight to prove Jonathan’s
innocence
?’ he asked, ignoring her question.

‘Naturally.’

‘I would prefer you not to,’ he replied, facing her again. ‘Just accept that your brother did all he’s accused of, Blanche. Disown him completely and put all this behind you.’

Her eyes widened with hurt disbelief. ‘You can’t be serious,’ she breathed.

‘Never more so in my life.’

‘You actually expect me to turn my back on my brother when he needs me most?’

‘Blanche, he’s hoist with his own petard, so let him fly with it!’

‘Never! Jonathan is innocent, and we intend to do our utmost to prove it! Roderick Neville and Deborah Jennings are the guilty ones!’ she cried, her gray eyes dark with anger and incredulity that he should ask such a monstrous thing.

‘We need my father’s consent if we are to marry, Blanche, and he wants no suggestion of scandal. He’s still prepared to allow the match, but only provided both you and your father
repudiate
Jonathan.’