Lady Vengeance (13 page)

 Elinor took the cup from Hannah with a word of thanks, but shook her head at her visitor.

 ‘You are monstrous kind, ma’am, but I could not sleep. For a while, at least.’

 ‘But of course, dear ma’am. I can understand that, after such a scene as we have just witnessed, you would wish to have company, lest your thoughts become too morbid and disturbing.’ Mrs Boreland nodded sympathetically. ‘It is unfortunate that you live so secluded. There is nothing like a little company to relieve the spirits.’ She paused, considering her words. ‘Forgive me, Madame. I hesitate to speak, and yet – pray do not be offended! Our acquaintance has been brief, I know, but even so I should be pleased to be of assistance to you, if you will allow it. Perhaps, ma’am, you would care to return with me to Weald Hall? I must go back there shortly, but I do not care to leave you in this house – you should not be alone at this time. And do not think I wish to throw you into a round of social engagements. Mr Boreland and I entertain very rarely, but even so I venture to think you will not find us
too
dull.’

 ‘I do not think Madame de Sange could consider such an idea at present –’ began Hannah, but Elinor silenced her with a wave of her hand.

 ‘Thank you, ma’am. Perhaps when I have had a little time to reflect….’

 ‘Of course,’ returned Mrs Boreland. ‘I do not mean to press you. Mayhap you would prefer to travel to Weald in a week or so – but you need not answer now, I shall come to see how you go on in a day or two, and we will discuss the matter more fully.’ She raised her head as there came from outside the sound of a vehicle approaching. ‘That will be my husband. He will be happy to see you have recovered a little, Madame.’

 They heard a knocking upon the door, and moments later James Boreland strode in. His big frame dominated the room and, as Mrs Boreland stepped forward to greet her husband, Hannah moved across to stand beside Elinor’s chair, protectively close to her mistress. Boreland bowed to the ladies, and spoke first to Elinor, who was still sipping at her chocolate.

 ‘Madame, my condolences to you. I know how close you were to poor Rowsell.’

 ‘Thank you, sir.’ Elinor’s voice was scarcely above a whisper.

 ‘How do matters stand, sir?’ asked his wife. ‘Did you see Lord Derry before you left?’

 ‘Aye. He’s most upset about the whole business, naturally. The young fellow who quarrelled with George has been apprehended. He was drunk, of course, but that does not excuse his actions.’ He shook his head, ‘Dashed pity about Rowsell, though. I always said he should make efforts to curb that temper of his –’

 ‘Yes, well, never mind that now, sir. We must go back to Town, and leave Madame de Sange to rest. Unless, that is, Madame, you wish me to remain to keep you company?’

 ‘You are very kind,’ returned Elinor, summoning up a smile, ‘but I have Hannah, and I shall be well now that I am home. My thanks to you both for your trouble.’

 ‘No, no do not get up,’ said Mrs Boreland, pushing Elinor gently back into her seat. ‘We will leave you now, but I shall call again in a few days. Now, come along, Mr Boreland, we must be on our way!’

 So saying, the couple went out, leaving Elinor and her companion alone in the drawing room. They sat in silence, listening to the sounds of departure, but neither woman moved until they heard the Borelands’ coach moving away from the house, then Hannah threw herself at Elinor’s feet in great distress.

 ‘Oh Miss Nell, Miss Nell, what mischief are you about?’

 Elinor put down her empty cup, her hands trembling a little.

 ‘I am sure I don’t know what you mean.’

 Hannah took hold of those hands, giving them a little shake.

 ‘Oh my dear child, will you deny that you wanted revenge upon the gentleman? After you had gone out, I went to your room to return the petticoat ‘pon which I had mended a torn flounce, and what should I discover hidden in a corner of your cupboard but a pair of old kid gloves, darkened with juice, a stained muslin handkerchief and a small bag that had recently held berries. One or two even remained. Devil’s Cherries, Miss Nell, deadly nightshade …’ She broke off, wiping her eyes, ‘You were so eager for the rain to cease, to go out into the garden alone - I made sure you had planned to poison Mr Rowsell, and I have been in dread here since, expecting any moment to hear that you had been clapped up for murder!’

 Elinor gazed down at her companion, a strange look in her green eyes.

 ‘But I poisoned no one, Hannah. I confess that it was my intention to kill George Rowsell, for what he had done to me,’

 ‘Oh my poor, poor child!’ wailed Hannah, burying her face in her apron.

 ‘I discovered the nightshade growing amongst my roses. What could be easier than to collect the berries and put their juice into a little bottle that would fit into my pocket? I even managed to drop the poison into his drink.’ Elinor paused, looking at the dark stain upon her petticoat. ‘I did everything, Hannah, everything I had planned, to avenge myself upon George Rowsell, and it was all … unnecessary.’ She began to giggle, then to laugh hysterically.

 Hannah stared at her, aghast.

 ‘Stop it, Miss Nell.’ She took Elinor by the shoulders and shook her. ‘You will do no one any good by this. Stop it, I say!’ To Hannah’s relief, the wild laughter abated, to be replaced by a flood of tears. Hannah embraced her, crooning to her and gently stroking her hair, much as she had done when Elinor had been a child. At last Elinor grew calmer, and Hannah drew her gently to her feet, keeping one arm tight about the widow as she helped her up the stairs to her room.

* * * *

 A few days later Mrs Boreland paid a short visit to Knight’s Bridge and came away feeling very well pleased with the results of her labours. She returned to the elegant apartment she and her husband had hired for their stay and entered it wearing a satisfied look upon her rather hard features. She received a grim smile from her husband, who was writing at a small desk by the window.

 ‘Well, madam,’ he greeted her, ‘what business have you been about, that you should resemble a cat that’s taken the cream?’

 ‘I have been to visit Madame de Sange,’ she replied, stripping off her kid gloves. ‘And I have secured from her the promise that she will come and stay with us over Christmas.’

 ‘The devil you have!’

 Mrs Boreland’s hard eyes snapped.

 ‘You knew it was my intention to invite the widow to Weald Hall – do you now object to the arrangement?’

 ‘Not to your arrangement, my dear, but to your timing. I have to go to the Continent very soon, though I expect to be back before Christmas. However, I have plans afoot that require discretion and I’d as lief have no prying eyes at Weald during the winter.’

 The lady shrugged. ‘I would have taken her down with me when I leave Town, had she been agreeable, but the lady was not to be persuaded. Perhaps it is for the best, however, for I shall now have time to prepare Andrew. As to your own affairs, you need not trouble yourself about our guest. I will ensure that Madame is well entertained, with Andrew’s assistance. After all, I want her to know just how pleasant it is to be mistress of Weald Hall.’

 Boreland looked amused.

 ‘You think you can make a match between our son and the lady?’

 ‘That is my intention.’

 ‘You were born an optimist, Isobel.’

 ‘What is so outrageous in my plan? The poor child has suffered a severe loss with Rowsell’s death. She has no family or friends here to support her, nor, as far as I can ascertain, has she anyone to advise her. The alternatives are for her to return to France, or to make a life for herself here. And what could be more natural than that she should be drawn towards those of us who knew George Rowsell and loved him as a brother?’

 ‘A brother!’ he repeated, laughing, ‘I didn’t think you ever cared much for the hot-headed fool!’

 ‘We will not speak ill of the departed,’ replied his wife, unperturbed. ‘The widow needs a refuge and I intend that she shall find one at the Hall. If, at the same time, she can be persuaded to bestow her hand –’

 ‘And her fortune!’ he put in dryly.

 ‘To bestow her hand upon a member of the family that has taken her to its bosom, I shall of course be delighted.’

 ‘I applaud your ambitions, Isobel. I daresay if you had been born a man you would have been a powerful force to reckon with.’

 She gave him a thin smile.

 ‘As it is, sir, I leave that rôle to you. I believe you have not been entirely unsuccessful in it.’

 ‘Thank you. And if this latest trick can be brought off –’ He paused, gazing thoughtfully into space, then he recollected himself and smiled across the room at his wife. ‘I hope you succeed with your match-making. Andrew needs a wife and the girl would be a monstrous good catch. Her fortune is not tied up in any trust, I believe.’

 ‘I have already ascertained that her money is under her own control. She is her own mistress.’

 ‘And a devilish handsome one, too.’ remarked Boreland. ‘A widow with no ties or constraints upon her fortune – ‘tis an ideal opportunity for Andrew. She looks somewhat familiar,’ he added thoughtfully. ‘I cannot quite place her…’

 ‘Possibly you knew her mother.’

 Boreland’s keen eyes rested upon his wife, challenging her to say more, but she remained silent. At length he shrugged, saying carelessly, ‘I daresay I did.’

 She watched him tidying the papers on his desk, then he moved towards the door, collecting his hat upon the way.

 ‘You are going out?’

 ‘Yes. I have business to attend to at the coffee house. Pray do not enquire the nature of it,’ he spoke quickly, forestalling her question. ‘It is safer for you to know very little that I do. Apply yourself to finding a wife for our son, and leave other matters to me.’

* * * *

 The golden shades of autumn were fading into winter and Elinor decided that until her visit to Weald Hall she would withdraw from society: in the fashionable salons and drawing rooms that she had visited so briefly, it was whispered that Madame de Sange was so overset with grief at the death of her lover that she had taken to her bed and was in decline. Hearing this, Viscount Davenham assured himself that it did not concern him. After all, he reasoned bitterly, if one could tell a man by the company he kept, the same must surely apply to a lady and her lovers. Yet as November wore on he found himself unable to banish the lady from his mind, and on a bright but chilly morning, he rode out to Knight’s Bridge.

 News of the visitor was brought to Madame as she sat at her dressing table, where Hannah Grisson was putting the finishing touches to her hair. The servant’s shrewd old eyes did not miss the delicate flush that mounted to Elinor’s cheeks before that lady said coolly:

 ‘I will not see him. Tell him I am not at home!’

 Hannah met her mistress’s eyes in the mirror.

 ‘You have spoken with no-one but your servants for over a week, ma’am. Will you not give him a few minutes of your time?’

 With a little cry Madame flew from her dressing stool.

 ‘Oh, am I to be hounded here, in my own house? You go to him, Hannah. Tell him I
will not
see him!’

‘If it is the same Lord Davenham who came calling in Paris, Miss Nell, he is not so easily discharged.’

 Elinor turned away, anxious to avoid Hannah’s searching gaze and pulled a warm cloak from the cupboard. ‘I am going for a walk in the garden, so you may safely tell my Lord Davenham that I am not in the house!’

* * * *

 Mrs Grisson went downstairs to the marbled hall, where the viscount had been left to kick his heels. As she approached the young gentleman, she remembered his visits to the Paris house. Then too she had been charged with the task of refusing him admittance.

 ‘My lord, Madame de Sange is not receiving visitors. She sends her apologies.’

 ‘The devil she does!’ He smiled ruefully, ‘Come, tell me. What exactly did she say?’

 Hannah was not proof against his coaxing tone.

 ‘Sir, she will not see you.’ She read the disappointment in his eyes. ‘I am sorry, my lord.’

 ‘Aye. So too am I.’ He sighed, and with a slight bow he turned and strode out of the house.

 ‘Sir!’ Hannah ran to the door.

 The viscount halted on the path and looked back, his blue eyes enquiring. She stepped outside.

 ‘She – my mistress - is even now in the garden, sir.’

 ‘But she will not see me.’

 Hannah bit her lip. ‘There is a narrow track, my lord, at the side of the house. It runs beside the garden wall.’

 ‘A track, you say?’

 ‘Yes sir. And – there is a tree at the side of the track, a tree whose branches reach right over the wall. It has been used by the village boys to come in and steal apples from the orchard.’ Hannah flushed and looked down at her apron, which she was twisting between her hands. ‘It is not so high that it could not be climbed by someone wishing to enter the garden…..’

 ‘But you said that she will not see me. What would she think of…… an intruder?’

 Hannah looked up, fixing her eyes at some point past the viscount’s shoulder.

 ‘Certainly there are some gentlemen that I should not wish to see in my lady’s garden, sir.’

 The viscount lifted an eyebrow. ‘Indeed?’

 ‘Yes sir.’

 ‘But you think - I should look for this tree?’

 Hannah retreated back up the steps.

 ‘Oh do not ask me, my lord. I could not advise you against my lady’s wishes!’ She quickly went inside and shut the door. As she listened to his footsteps on the gravel drive, she smiled to herself.

* * * *

 Elinor moved quickly from the rose garden to the shrubbery, making a mental note of the instructions she would give to her gardener later in the week. The air was warm within the sheltered garden and she pushed her cloak back over her shoulders as she walked, lifting her face to the sun. She turned onto a side-path and stopped abruptly, her mouth opening for a cry which never came. Before her stood Viscount Davenham, showing no sign of discomfiture as he bowed to her. Madame’s eyes flashed angrily.

 ‘I gave orders that you were not to be admitted!’