Anne Ashley (18 page)

‘I’m afraid Mr Pettigrew is engaged with a client at present,
ma’am,’ the young clerk informed her as she stepped inside the premises. ‘But if
you’d care to take a seat, I’m sure he’ll be free to attend you quite soon.’

As she was in no great hurry to return home, Briony decided she
would wait. Seating herself in one of the chairs provided for clients, she
didn’t attempt to converse further with the young clerk, who returned to his
desk to continue making a copy in the finest copperplate handwriting of some
legal document or other.

Scarcely had he recommenced than he was interrupted by the
sound of a tinkling bell in Mr Pettigrew’s office, the signal that his presence
was required. After watching the door closing quietly behind him, ensuring the
complete privacy of the client, Briony rose to her feet and for a few moments
absently watched a carrier’s cart making slow progress along the street, then
turned to consider her surroundings.

Like most places of work owned by those engaged in the legal
profession, Mr Pettigrew’s premises were sombrely decorated and furnished with
solid wooden items purchased for their hardwearing qualities rather than any
consideration for either style or what was aesthetically pleasing. The most
prominent of these was the solid oak desk at which the young clerk worked. As
she studied its size and solid lines, her eyes automatically focused on the copy
being made of a will.

Ordinarily Briony would never have dreamt of prying into what
did not directly concern her, but the sight of her husband’s name written out in
full swept aside any ethical consideration, as she stared at the will Luke Henry
Charles Kingsley had made earlier that same day, naming her the main beneficiary
to his entire estate.

So stunned was she that she quickly re-seated herself for fear
her legs would no longer support her. For a few deliriously happy moments her
spirits soared with the heart-warming possibility that Luke might truly return
her feelings, but then cold common sense returned. All he had done was to take
sensible precautions in the event of his untimely death. That did not
automatically mean that in a few weeks’ time, when they had been married for
that all-important six-month period, he would want to remain with her.

No, of course, it did not, and she would be immeasurably
foolish to suppose it did, she told herself. Yet, try as she might, she could
not quell that feeling of supreme satisfaction that he cared enough for her to
ensure that she would never have any monetary concerns throughout her life. So,
it might not be the actions of a man deeply in love, she told herself, but at
least it proved he cared enough for her to concern himself over her future
well-being. And that was something, surely? It was a long way short of what she
most wished for, but at least it was a start!

‘I’m very sorry, Mrs Kingsley, Mr Pettigrew informs me that he
expects to be engaged with his present client for another twenty minutes or so,’
the young clerk revealed as he returned to the outer office.

Briony rose at once to her feet. Having experienced a complete
change of heart, she wanted only to return to the Manor to be with Luke. It was
unlikely she would discover what she dearly wished to know, of course, at least
not without revealing that she had been reading a draught of his will, which she
swiftly appreciated could result in serious repercussions for the young clerk
who was now covering his work over with a blank sheet of paper, evidently having
appreciated the grave oversight on his part.

‘In that case I shall call another time. The matter was not of
immediate importance,’ she assured him before whisking herself from his
presence.

* * *

The shock of discovering she was the main beneficiary to
Luke’s estate was as nothing when compared to the severe jolt she received the
following morning, when the young footman announced the arrival of none other
than Miles Petersham. To have denied him was unthinkable, of course. Not only
would he look upon it as a gross insult not to be received, but it might also
result in arousing his suspicions. And that was something essential to avoid at
all costs!

Consequently, she rose to her feet as he strolled languidly
into the front parlour and didn’t attempt to hide her surprise. ‘What an
unexpected pleasure, Mr Petersham,’ she greeted him, offering her hand.

He took it briefly in his own, his eyes never wavering from
hers even for a second. ‘A pleasure, I sincerely hope. But not unexpected,
surely? Now that your husband appears to have settled in the area, I hope we’ll
see a good deal more of each other from now on, at least while I remain at the
country home.’

‘Do I infer correctly from that that it is not your intention
to remain in the county for too much longer?’

He shrugged, before accepting the offer of a seat. ‘I have no
fixed plans, Mrs Kingsley. I have remained longer than is customary this time,
for various reasons. My cousin’s presence demanded mine. Added to which my
father’s continued ill health is proving something of a concern.’

He nodded in acceptance at the offer of Madeira and waited for
her to hand him a filled glass and reseat herself opposite, before adding, ‘My
reason for calling is that I have only this very day discovered about Kingsley’s
unfortunate accident.’

All at once Briony’s brain was working rapidly; she was
immediately on her guard as a score of questions tumbled over one another into
her head. From whom had he heard? And why had he really come? Was it truly just
a social visit or had he become suspicious about something? Had one of the gang
members recognised Luke on that fateful night? It was certainly a distinct
possibility!

‘I thought it strange that no one seemed to have caught sight
of him for the past couple of weeks or so riding along the coast road,’ he
continued, once again regarding her closely above the rim of his glass. ‘Nor
you, come to that.’

She could only hope her shrug of innocent unconcern appeared
perfectly natural. ‘Oh, my non-appearance in the locale is easily explained,
sir. I was struck down by a wretched summer chill that kept me abed for many a
day. I felt very sorry for myself…until, that is,’ she added, staring sombrely
into the contents of her own glass for effect, ‘I discovered what had happened
to Luke. Then, of course, my recent malaise seemed trivial in comparison.’

‘Indeed, it must have done. It is not every day one hears of a
loved one being set upon by footpads.’ Again those dark eyes of his never
wavered for an instant. ‘It occurred in London, so I understand?’

‘Yes. Seemingly he had decided to stay over for a day or so
before continuing his journey to Kent. The first I learned of what had occurred
was when he returned here. Truth to tell, I was rather vexed with him for not
letting me know. Of course I would have travelled at once to the capital to be
with him, chill or no chill.’

‘I’m sure you would have done, Mrs Kingsley,’ he responded
smoothly, before sampling the contents of his glass. ‘It was none other than Sir
Bartholomew Walters who returned him safely to you, so I understand?’

How on earth had he discovered that? Briony wondered, almost
choking on the sip of wine she was in the process of swallowing. More
importantly, how was she to respond? To lie might prove a grave mistake, as he
seemed somehow to have discovered the baronet had been in the neighbourhood. The
last thing she wanted was to ruin all those carefully laid plans to bring this
man to justice.

‘Why, yes!’ she swiftly decided to admit, while not attempting
to conceal her surprise. ‘Such a charming gentleman! Are you, by chance,
acquainted with him yourself?’

‘Only very slightly,’ he revealed, a rather unpleasant curl
twisting his mouth. ‘I didn’t realise he and Kingsley were so well acquainted. I
wouldn’t have supposed they had much in common.’

‘I’m afraid I’m unable to enlighten you,’ Briony responded.
‘I’m sadly ignorant concerning many of my husband’s friends and acquaintances.
All I know is that Sir Bartholomew took every care of Luke, for which I shall
always be eternally grateful.’ She then detected that beloved voice raised in
the hall and almost sighed with relief. ‘But I believe I’m right in thinking
they are members of the same club. And here’s Luke now! You can ask him
yourself.’

‘Ask me what, my darling?’ Luke queried, coming into the room
and acknowledging their guest’s presence with a casual nod of the head.

Clearly someone had informed him of Petersham’s arrival, for he
appeared sublimely unconcerned. Only when Briony revealed their guest’s
curiosity concerning Sir Bartholomew Walters did his hand check for a moment
before pouring a glass of wine.

‘I know him a deal better now than I did of yore,’ he admitted
suavely as he sat himself opposite their visitor. ‘I shall for ever be in his
debt for ensuring I received the very best of attention, after receiving a ball
in the shoulder. He left White’s shortly after I did and witnessed the whole
thing. Damned lucky thing for me, otherwise I might have been left for dead. He
had me conveyed straight to his home, as it was closer than my own, and I
received the very best of care.’

‘Dear me, London is becoming an increasingly lawless place,
nowadays,’ Petersham remarked when Luke fell silent.

‘As is Dorset, from what Lieutenant Henshaw was telling me only
the other day,’ Luke countered boldly. ‘Apparently he had some success in coming
upon a gang of smugglers, would you believe. Sadly they managed to get away with
most all the booty, by all accounts. And sadly, one or two soldiers were wounded
in the confrontation. There is lawlessness everywhere, it seems.’

Miles Petersham’s brows rose in what seemed mild surprise.
‘Strange the Lieutenant should imagine you are interested in such occurrences,
do you not think?’

Luke merely shrugged, continuing to appear remarkably
unruffled, Briony thought. ‘He called to introduce me to the new man in charge
of the militia—Colonel Maitland. Seemed to suppose we might have brushed
shoulders at some time or other during my army days.’

‘Dear me, yes,’ Petersham returned smoothly. ‘One tends to
forget you were once doing your bit for king and country.’

‘It seems a long time ago to me, too,’ Luke confessed
meditatively. ‘A deal has happened since I sold out.’ He shot Briony such a
wonderful loving smile that she almost believed him when he added, ‘I’m a
happily married man now, of course. I have more than myself to consider.’

‘Indeed, yes,’ their guest readily concurred, staring from one
to the other. ‘Love at first sight, was it not?’

‘Assuredly not!’ Luke did not hesitate to enlighten him. ‘In
fact, I have it on the best authority that for very many years I was not looked
upon with any degree of affection whatsoever, that I was considered little more
than a selfish bully.’

Briony’s spontaneous gurgle of mirth was so beautifully natural
that no one could doubt her amusement. ‘Great heavens! I’d almost forgotten
that,’ she declared. ‘How one’s opinions can change!’

* * *

She had meant it too. Yet half an hour later, after Luke
had seen their alarming visitor on his way and had returned to the parlour, with
a face as black as thunder, she couldn’t help thinking that he hadn’t changed
that much at all.

Initially she thought it must have been Miles Petersham’s
unexpected presence that had vexed him so, until he said, ‘I discovered from the
stable lad this morning,’ he began without preamble, ‘that you, my girl, rode
all the way into town yesterday without so much as a groom to bear you
company!’

‘Did I?’ Briony was nonplussed for a moment. Then she recalled
how annoyed she had been when she had left the house. How differently she had
felt when she had returned! ‘So I did,’ she at last conceded. ‘What of it?’

‘What of it…?’ Luke cast a pained glance ceilingwards. ‘You
might suppose you’re quite capable of taking care of yourself.’ His features
softened all at once, as memory stirred. ‘And I’ll own you do not want for
courage. But that doesn’t alter the fact that you’re still a woman. And there
are some lawless people in these parts, let me remind you.’

She was moved by his evident concern for her well-being, so
didn’t attempt to annoy him further by standing her ground and reminding him
that in their marriage he had absolutely no right to play the demanding,
dictatorial husband. It just might lead to misunderstandings on his part and
that was something she must avoid at all costs, most especially now, at this
very fragile stage in their relationship, where one inappropriate action, one
ill-judged remark, might destroy any chance of future happiness between
them.

‘Yes, you’re right, of course,’ she conceded, taking him
completely by surprise. ‘And talking of lawless persons,’ she went on with a
masterly change of subject, ‘what do you suppose induced the one we were obliged
to entertain a few minutes ago to pay a call?’

She knew she had succeeded in channelling his thoughts in a new
direction when he came to sit beside her on the sofa, looking decidedly
thoughtful. All at once his arm appeared on the top of the upholstery behind her
head and he began absently to twist a strand of her long hair, which she had
left loosely dressed that day, round and round his finger. She hardly dared to
move for fear of drawing his attention to what he was doing, for she felt sure
he was too lost in thought to realise.

He confirmed this a moment later by saying, ‘I don’t know,
Briony. But you can be very sure it was no mere social call. Something, or
someone, must have aroused his suspicions.’

‘Yes,’ she agreed softly, trying desperately to ignore the
pleasurable tingling sensation scudding up and down the length of her spine as
he continued to play with her hair. ‘He certainly seemed to be interested in Sir
Bartholomew Walters.’