Intrigue (Daughters of Mannerling 2) (9 page)

‘It is hard to explain,’ said Lizzie eagerly. ‘It is very graceful, the building, you know, and the painted ceilings are a glorious riot of colour. It enfolds you in its quiet peace. We thought Isabella, my eldest sister, would marry Mr Judd, the new owner, but he married Mary Stoppard, the vicar’s daughter, a little nobody, and then he hanged himself.’

The busy needle paused. ‘Dear me, why did he do that?’

‘You see, he lost his money, too, and how could anyone live without Mannerling?’

‘Your elder sister married Lord Fitzpatrick, did she not?’

‘Yes, although she could have made a push and secured Mr Judd.’

‘But, my child, if your sister had married Mr Judd, she would have been an impoverished widow with a tragedy in her background. Would you wish her to endure that?’

‘I am sure she could have stopped him from gambling.’

‘How did your papa lose his money?’

‘Gambling,’ said Lizzie in a low voice.

‘But neither you, your sisters, nor Lady Beverley were evidently able to do anything about that.’

‘We did not know about it until it was too late.’

‘Then I think the same thing could be said about the undistinguished vicar’s daughter. Hardened gamblers cannot be stopped.’

Lizzie bent her head. Honoria’s black eyes were hard and shrewd as she surveyed that bent head. ‘My cousin Harry is a bachelor,’ she said meditatively, ‘and he is the heir to Mannerling.’

‘He told Mr Sommerville that he was going to propose to Jessica, and Mr Sommerville came to warn Jessica to have nothing to do with him.’

Honoria, who loathed Harry, said with affected surprise, ‘I wonder why he did that? Harry is a bit wild, but gay and handsome. All he needs is a wife to settle him down.’

‘He has found one,’ said Lizzie.

‘You amaze me! There has been no announcement in the newspapers. Mrs Devers would most certainly have written to me should such an event have occurred. To whom is he betrothed?’

‘A Miss Habard.’

‘I think you must be mistaken, but I shall write to Mannerling and find out. I am not in the way of gossiping, Miss Lizzie, and my brother would be angry if he found out, so do not say anything of this.’

‘My family would be angry with me as well. Do you . . . do you think your brother will marry Jessica?’

Over my dead body, thought Honoria. But she said aloud, ‘They make a handsome couple, I admit. But Robert is a confirmed bachelor. From time to time he invites some pretty lady and her family here, but it never comes to anything. Shall we return to the house for tea?’

Happy to have found a friend, Lizzie trotted beside her. From an upstairs window, Miss Trumble watched their approach and frowned. She did not trust Honoria.

‘I have never climbed an apple tree in my life before,’ Jessica called down to Robert, who was standing underneath the tree laughing up at her.

‘So what made you do it now, my hoyden?’

‘A sudden impulse,’ said Jessica. ‘I never act on impulse. Perhaps this is how Isabella felt.’

‘When? What did she do?’

‘Isabella was the stateliest and proudest of us all, and yet one day when we were on a call to the vicarage, she suddenly left and a farmer told us later he had seen her running and running through the woods and across the fields.’

He held up his arms. ‘I will help you down.’

Jessica slid down into his arms. He held her close and looked down into her flushed face. ‘Jessica,’ he said.

And then, behind him, he heard his sister’s voice. ‘Robert! Tea is served!’

He released Jessica, but then drew her arm through his and walked past his sister towards the house. Honoria stood for a moment looking after them. Something would have to be done, and quickly, too.

She joined the rest for tea but excused herself as quickly as possible. She went to her private sitting room and began to write to Mrs Devers, asking if the news of Harry’s betrothal was true. She added that Robert was entertaining the Beverleys. Then she changed into a carriage dress and was driven to the nearest town, where she sent the letter express and paid for a reply by express post as well.

Mrs Devers’s reply was prompt. Harry had ruined any chance of a betrothal to Miss Habard, an excellent dowry, too, and had taken himself off to London. He was obsessed with Mannerling and had sold out of the army. He was shortly expected home. Mrs Devers warned Honoria against encouraging any marital hopes among the Beverleys. Jessica Beverley had made her pursuit of Harry and her ambitions vulgarly obvious to all.

Honoria read the letter several times. She was tempted to show it to Robert and then decided against it. Instead she made her way to the lake and found Lizzie on her usual bench. Forcing herself to be quiet and calm, Honoria encouraged Lizzie to talk about her favourite subject, Mannerling, and then said idly, ‘I had a letter from Mrs Devers. Harry Devers is not engaged to anyone. He turned down Miss Habard. It seems that he was too much taken up with Miss Jessica.’ Honoria told this lie without a qualm. ‘He has been in London but is expected back shortly.’

She had the satisfaction of seeing the wide-eyed expression of shock and then dawning hope on Lizzie’s little face.

‘You must excuse me,’ said Lizzie in a stifled voice. ‘I have forgotten something in the house.’

Honoria watched her go and then smiled to herself.

Lizzie called ‘a council of war.’ It could not take place until they were all supposed to have retired to bed, for somehow Miss Trumble sensed that something was in the air and was always in their company, her eyes darting from one face to the other.

They gathered in Jessica’s bedroom, sitting crouched on her bed, the room lit only by one candle and with a blanket stuffed along the bottom of the door so that Miss Trumble, should she be passing, might not enter to demand why the light was still shining.

‘What is it, Lizzie?’ asked Jessica.

‘I have such news,’ said Lizzie eagerly. ‘Miss Sommerville talks to me quite a lot. She said she had a letter from Mrs Devers, and Harry has turned down Miss Habard.’

‘That is an odd way of putting it,’ said Abigail slowly. ‘Surely Miss Habard did not propose to
him
?’

‘Oh, that is no matter. According to Mrs Devers, Harry did not want to marry Miss Habard because he is too interested in our Jessica. There!’

There were no claps or cries of joy.

‘And he is expected back from London soon,’ said Lizzie, now in a pleading voice. ‘Don’t you see? We should be there.’

They all looked at Jessica. Jessica wondered if a soldier felt like this when he had a brief respite from the war in some pretty village and then found he was being ordered back into battle. She thought of Robert. She knew his feelings towards her had been becoming warmer each day, and she had done nothing to discourage him. And yet, she owed it to her sisters to reclaim their old home if she could.

‘We have been happy here,’ she said in a low voice.

‘You will not be like Isabella,’ begged Lizzie. ‘You always said you would never be like Isabella. Is it Robert? Is that why you are not delighted, Jessica?’

‘I don’t know what to think,’ said Jessica wretchedly. ‘Let us ask Mama.’

‘She will be asleep,’ protested Rachel.

‘We will see,’ was all Jessica would say.

Taking the blanket away from the door and looking round it cautiously first, in case the vigilant Miss Trumble might be watching, they crept quietly along the corridor to Lady Beverley’s room.

Lady Beverley was sitting up in bed, reading a fashion journal. She looked up in surprise as her daughters stole quietly into the room.

She listened carefully as Lizzie told her the news.

‘There is only one thing we can do now,’ she said firmly. ‘We must return home immediately.’

‘Must we?’ asked Jessica. ‘Will it not be considered very odd to leave so abruptly?’

‘I will say I have not been well,’ said Lady Beverley. ‘Oh, my darling child. Such news! Now we have happiness to look forward to.’

But Jessica had a nagging feeling that she was leaving happiness behind.

The game’s afoot:
Follow your spirit; and, upon this charge Cry ‘God for Harry! England and Saint George!’

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

The hunt was up. There was an almost feverish anticipation about the Beverley girls as they made preparations for their departure from Tarrant Hall.

Robert Sommerville, hard-eyed, had learned from his sister that Lady Beverley was ‘poorly,’ and must needs return to the care of her own physician.

He did not believe Lady Beverley was in ill health. He was sure something had occurred to reanimate the ambitions of Jessica and her family. Somehow, they must have learned the news, and only the night before, that Harry Devers was still on the marriage market, and yet he had been vain enough, he chided himself, to begin to think that it was because of him that Jessica had forgotten Mannerling.

Before he even saw Jessica he could hear the girls’ excitement and laughter as they supervised their packing. To say he was disappointed in Jessica was putting it mildly. He thought her contemptible.

And then Lady Beverley called on him in his study, holding her smelling salts, and putting on an act of being at death’s door, which irritated him further.

But he agreed she must leave immediately, and with every appearance of calm accepted her apologies and her thanks. But no sooner had she left than he hurled his coffee cup across the room and swore loudly. He would not stay to say goodbye to Jessica Beverley. He never wanted to see her again.

He went upstairs, changed into his riding-clothes, and walked over to the stables. The day was fine, with only a hint of cold heralding approaching autumn. A beautiful morning for riding. But the glory of the morning only seemed to intensify the blackness in his heart. He mounted his horse and rode off, planning to return when he was sure they had gone. What shoddy, greedy people, he raged inwardly.

Honoria watched her brother ride off, a satisfied little smile curving her lips. It was she who went out to the front of the house to wave goodbye. She noticed with added satisfaction that Jessica accepted the intelligence that Robert was out riding with a sort of hard calm. Honoria made Lizzie a fond farewell, feeling quite tender towards the little girl who had been unwittingly so helpful.

It was a cheerful and happy family who were driven off from Tarrant Hall. Only Jessica began to feel sad as the carriage left the drive and moved along the country road that started the journey home. Clouds were beginning to cover the sun and a few leaves fluttered down from the trees. She had woken that morning hard and determined to fulfil her family’s ambitions. But as the carriage rolled ever homewards and the day grew darker, she began to feel a creeping shame. An intelligent man like Robert Sommerville had surely not been taken in by Lady Beverley’s bad acting. He would think them rude and ungrateful. But at least, Jessica tried to comfort herself, he had not seemed to know that Harry was not engaged. But his sister did! So she would tell him, if she had not already done so, and he would realize why they had left and despise them heartily for it.

Suddenly Miss Trumble said, ‘Miss Sommerville was happy to see us go . . . almost triumphant. One could believe she had engineered our departure herself. But that is ridiculous, is it not, Lizzie?’

‘Quite ridiculous,’ said Lady Beverley roundly. ‘I am, in fact, quite fatigued. I shall be glad to get to our own home.’

Lizzie bit her lip and then shook her head so that her two wings of red hair shielded her face from Miss Trumble’s bright gaze.

Jessica felt a pang of dread. She had begun to sense that Honoria disapproved of Robert’s interest in her. What if Miss Sommerville had made the whole thing up to get rid of them?

Robert rode wearily back towards Tarrant Hall. He was not only ashamed of Jessica but ashamed of his own warm feelings toward the girl. He was like any other fool of a man, seeing sterling qualities that did not exist, and all because of a pretty face and a well-turned ankle.

As Tarrant Hall came into view across the fields, he slowed his horse to an amble as a thought suddenly struck him. He had been so sure that no one at Tarrant Hall had known any news from Mannerling. He had carefully not told Honoria. He had a sudden sharp memory of Jessica smiling down at him from the apple tree. And then he had lifted her down. How close he had been to kissing her. How very close he had been to losing his heart. And then Honoria had interrupted them, and for a moment he had thought she had looked like a wardress, standing there in the sunlight, her arms folded.

For the first time, he began to wonder about Honoria. For the first time he realized what her position would be in the house if he married. She would either have to take second place to his wife, and he could not now imagine Honoria taking second place to anyone, or she would need to find somewhere else to live.

He spurred his weary horse, suddenly anxious to confront his sister. But Honoria looked genuinely surprised when he asked her whether she had told any of the Beverleys about Harry’s failed engagement. ‘I did not even know Harry was about to propose to anyone!’ exclaimed Honoria. ‘And what should such intelligence have to do with the Beverleys’ abrupt departure?’