Love's Way (7 page)

“I suppose you will be attending the tea party for Rush-Bearing come next Saturday,” Tom said, in his hearty, loud voice.

“Is it that time already?” I asked. Rush-Bearing occurs early in August. It is a festivity that is fast dying out, but at Grasmere it is still done. In the olden days it had a practical purpose—strewing fresh rushes on the church floor—and was done by adults. It has dwindled (since the church now has a stone floor) to a symbolic affair, with children carrying rushes and flowers in a procession to the church, where the minister reads a service. The children sing and are later entertained with a tea-party, also attended by the more ardent adult parishioners.

Being a spinster of the parish I am one of the ladies usually stuck to manage the whole affair. It is the singing practice that consumes most of the time. When a spinster has the identical chores of a wife, as I have in managing Ambledown (with a few of the husband’s chores thrown in for good measure), I don’t know why it is I am thought to have all manner of time free, but so it is. Charities, social gatherings, all these trivial church matters fall upon a handful of us spinsters and widows. I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if Eleanor Glover married her husband to escape her share of these dull jobs.
I
cannot see any other advantage that accrued to her in the match.

“Why, it was announced this morning, Chloe,” Tom reminded me. I must have been wool-gathering at the time. I had not heard the announcement.

“Yes, I’ll be there,” I said, inclining my head to try to hear what was causing Wingdale and Gamble to guffaw as though they were at a men-only rout, when they were still on church property. Everyone was staring at them.

When Nora began speaking to Tom about Edward’s trip, I listened quite shamelessly to the other party. Wingdale was inviting Gamble to one of his assemblies. The reply, imperfectly heard, was that Emily might enjoy it.

There was no difficulty in overhearing Emily’s opinion. She squealed in delight, in a most unladylike manner that caused the Tartar to silence her with a sharp, “Emily!” The Captain then mentioned some other features of Wingdale Hause, including the meals, which he described as being “something quite out of the ordinary”, as indeed they are from all reports. I have never personally deigned to set a toe inside the establishment, and never will. Where else can you pay a guinea for tough roast beef, reheated potatoes, and wine that bears a strong resemblance to turpentine?

There was more loud talking and louder laughing, the whole carried out in voices raised high enough to indicate the speakers’ disregard for the opinion of bystanders. This particular brand of arrogance is often practiced by underbred tourists, but outside of Wingdale himself it has been kept under control amongst the local people. At some point during the conversation, Tom turned around to direct a scowl on the speakers and ended up nodding to Emily, as the gentlemen paid him no heed.

This dangerous encroachment of our presence had the effect of the guardians getting rid of Wingdale so they could hustle their ward off home. It was perfectly clear this was their intention—to avoid speaking to us. In a fit of pique I said, in a low voice, that they should put the girl under lock and key to keep her safe till they convinced her to marry her cousin. The cabbage-green eyes narrowed at me, glinting maliciously. I stared back at her but did not intend to be the first to speak. While still staring, I observed from the corner of my eye that Gamble too had overheard my speech. His black head turned slowly, as though he could not quite make up his mind whether to admit it. He exchanged one quick, guilty glance with the Tartar, then turned his obsidian eyes on me.

If looks could kill I would have been destroyed on the spot. He was
furious,
and trying hard to hide it. It didn’t take much cunning to realize why. He was angry that I had figured out his strategy with regard to Emily, his plan to subdue her unwillingness with trifling luxuries and social diversions till he could persuade her to have him. “Miss Barwick, is it not?” he asked, after a long moment of subjecting me to his scrutiny.

I nodded and replied in an affable tone, “Mr. Gamble, if memory serves.” Next I turned to Emily, deciding to further discommode the guardians with a little teasing. “Emily, how grand you look today. We were all wondering who the Incomparable was in church. We hardly recognized you. You
do
recognize me, I hope? Chloe—Edward’s sister. You remember Edward.”

She blushed to the roots of her blond curls and muttered, “Good morning, Chloe,” then directed a plea for instructions on Mrs. Crawford, who reached out her black mittens to get a physical grasp on the girl’s arm, as though I might seize her and carry her off by main force. I could not repress an ironic smile at this, and didn’t try very hard either.

“I believe your chaperones are anxious for your safekeeping, Emily. I shan’t detain you longer. Good morning.” I swept a general curtsey in the direction of their party, took Tom’s arm for support to my nervous legs, and left, while my escort inveighed against the bad manners being practiced by “certain people who should know better.” In my state I thought he meant myself, but further remarks showed it to be Gamble’s group he had in mind.

I did not expect to see those certain bad-mannered people again till next Sunday, unless it happened they were met in the village. To my considerable surprise, two of them descended on us that same afternoon at Ambledown, about two hours after luncheon. We sat in the garden under a spreading copper beech tree, gasping in the heat of a warmer than usual summer. Poor Edward would be sweltering as he clambered over the fells.

When I saw a little blue phaeton darting down the road, pulled by a pair of cream ponies, I took the notion a travelling group of players had come to town. Nothing else in my experience could account for so lively a turn-out. It was not long dawning on me (as soon, in fact, as a blonde lady and a dark gentleman were descried) that the couple were from Carnforth Hall. “On their way in to Wingdale Hause for a piece of stringy mutton,” I said to Nora.

“Too early. It is some social call. Perhaps he is taking Emily to visit Lady Irene Castleman. Tom mentioned at church that she is back.”

I appeared to have missed quite a bit of gossip at church, but I disliked to admit it. It was not unusual for Lady Irene to visit her summer home on the lake, however. She usually came for a few months every year to escape the tedium of a summer in London. She was some kin by marriage to Lord Carnforth, married a cousin of his, I believe. She was a widow, one of those aging ladies determined to be youthful till she snared another husband. I fancy it was a hard job to keep up any semblance of youth, but she had nothing more demanding to do with her time. No tea parties at the church for her.

I don’t know which of us was the more surprised when the carriage slowed down to make the turn off to Ambledown. We are situated at the crest of a gentle slope, which gives us a good view of the road below. “They’re coming here!” Nora exclaimed in horror.

“So they are. Perhaps we are to be arrested for living so close to them, and possessing a bachelor relation.”

“What the deuce can they want?” This was low talk of a sort not generally indulged in by Mrs. Whitmore, to say ‘deuce.’

“We’ll soon know,” I advised, as the sound of wheels and hooves was heard approaching at a good clip. We said no more while we waited the sixty seconds or so for the carriage to appear around the bend. “Why, it is
Emily
driving!” I exclaimed in surprise. The reason for my surprise was that Emily had never been known to drive so much as a gig in her entire life, and here was she suddenly holding the reins to a pair of very lively steppers. Her inexperience was not hard to read. She let the team continue its advance till both Nora and myself, to say nothing of the copper beech, were in some danger of being bowled over. Then Gamble made a grab for the reins and wrestled the team to a halt. Nora and I were both in flight for our lives by this time.

The exciting manner of their arrival robbed me of a chance to give them the chilly reception I had been preparing. I had intended asking Mr. Gamble if he was seeking directions to Lady Irene’s cottage, but was sidetracked to ask him if he were mad, instead, to come charging at us full tilt. When the animals were got under control, he hopped down and assisted Emily from her perch, in no very decorous way, swinging her around to show a good four inches of lovely lace on her petticoats. The stable boy came running at the racket and was asked to stable the carriage.

Before it was taken away Emily began babbling out her disjointed story. “See the pretty phaeton Cousin John has given me, Chloe, and the team. Aren’t they beauties? They are called Jill and Judy. They’re my very own.”

“How nice. You will be perfectly free to go wherever you wish—or are allowed—now, Emily,” I complimented her, with never a glance at her imprisoner.

“After she learns to handle the ribbons,” Gamble said quickly.

“Cousin John is teaching me. It is so hard!” she said, with a happy sigh, as she went forward to pat her team goodbye. “The secret is not to tug at the reins,” she confided, “but when I get frightened, I can’t seem to help doing it.”

“It is only a knack. You’ll soon get used to it,” Nora assured her. “If
I
learned to do it,
you
can. What I never did master is riding.”

“That is the next item on our agenda,” Gamble said, strolling forward in a casual fashion, like any polite visitor. I thought I detected some less polite quality not far beneath the surface, but perhaps I was imagining. He took up a vacant chair beside me, while I turned to congratulate Emily on the liveliness of her team.

“Like your tinker’s wagon,” she said, laughing, and acting more like her old self than when the Tartar was along. “It was black when John bought it, but when I told him how prettily you and Edward had done up your landau, he had the servants paint it any shade I wanted. I chose blue. There were little brass bells to go on it, but they frightened the horses so I took them off. They are from India,” she added, with a warm smile for Cousin John, who had been, if you recall, ‘that horrid Jack Gamble’ a few days previously. He was obviously having very good luck with his scheme of buttering her into compliance. Perhaps even into love.

“I understand your cousin has brought many strange objects back from India.”

‘‘Oh, Edward told you about Lord Simian!” she exclaimed.

“He never mentioned a word about any lord!” Nora exclaimed at once, full of curiosity. I mentioned, I think, that she was a little keener on aristocracy than I can quite like.

“That is my dear little monkey, you must know,” Emily told her. “Such a clever rascal as he is. He eats right out of my hand.”

“I would be very careful of germs if I were you, Emily,” I told her. “Do the tiger and elephant eat out of your hand too?”

“No, though they will take food from John.”

“I am careful of germs, Miss Barwick,” he said to my back, for I had not yet turned to address any remark to him.

Nora, easily pacified, asked him what he planned doing with these wild beasts. “No idea,” he admitted shamelessly.

“Your new friend, Captain Wingdale, will doubtlessly have some good commercial idea,” I advised him. “A zoo out behind Wingdale Hause, perhaps, to amuse those who tire of attending assemblies every night of the week. A pity he put up a coat of arms before he knew about the elephant. That would have been a unique addition to the sign.”

“There is no assembly on Sunday, Chloe,” Emily told me. “John is going to take me tomorrow night.”

“How very considerate your cousin is.”

“Indeed he is! He gives me everything.” She turned her eyes towards him, eyes glowing with some emotion which was perhaps not yet love, but certainly admiration bordering on love. She was blooming like a hothouse rose, with a flush on her cheeks to match the glow in her eyes. She reminded me of a gentle bloom being forced open before its time by the excessive heat of Gamble’s hothouse wooing. Clearly that was what was going on. There was some febrile quality in her that was unnatural. Excitement, prolonged excitement, I judged to be the cause of it.

It must be surpassingly exciting for her now, I thought. Accustomed to little company and less luxury, she was suddenly inundated with both. I stole a quick glance to see how Gamble was behaving towards her. He sat staring towards Ambledown. Seeing the house through another’s eyes, I was struck most miserably with its shabby appearance. It struck me as odd, though, that he paid no attention to Emily. Perhaps I frowned. I know at least that I was still watching him when he glanced up and caught me at it. To cover my little gene I said, “Very warm weather we are having this summer.”

“Warm?” he asked. “I was just enjoying the pleasant coolness. It seems nearly cold to me, after Calcutta.”

“This is the warmest summer we’ve had in a decade.”

“Very likely.”

Nora initiated some chat with Emily. He listened for only a moment before turning back to me. “Will you show me around the place, Miss Barwick?” he asked.

“There is not much to see. My brother and I raise Herdwick sheep, you know. They are up grazing on the fells.”

“I would like an opportunity to talk to you in private,” he said impatiently, as though I should have guessed the hidden meaning, with nothing to indicate it.

“Why did you not say so? Would you like to go indoors?”

“No, no, we shall walk about a little,” he said quietly, with a look towards Emily. He did not wish her to realize what he was about, in other words.

Swelling with curiosity, I arose at once and walked back towards the orchard with him, after telling Nora that Mr. Gamble was curious to have a look at the estate. “What is it you want to discuss?” I asked.

“Emily and myself,” he answered. “I could not help overhearing you in the church yard this morning. The nature of your remarks ...”

“I am surprised you could hear anything over Captain Wingdale’s bellowing. Such a raucous, uncouth voice as he has,” I added gently, but I think he knew he had spoken as loudly.