Melinda Hammond (4 page)

 'No, no Mama, but having been in the fields all day, I was happy enough to dine with friends in Derringden, but I could not appear here in all my dirt!'

 Mrs Worsthorne tutted, but her mind had already moved on.

 'Verity my dear, you should be sitting down. What are you two gentlemen about, to keep the child standing? Pull up a chair for her, Master Rafe.'

 Catching Verity's eye, Mr Bannerman grinned as he moved an armchair closer to the fire.

 'You will soon become used to Megs’s bullying ways, Miss Shore.'

 'Bullying! Nay, sir, I had forgotten what it is to be cosseted.'

 'Oh child never say so!' cried Mrs Worsthorne, hunting for her handkerchief, 'How it grieves me to think that you had been driven to such straits.'

 Mr Worsthorne frowned.

 'Dear ma'am, Miss Shore was a governess, not some demi-rep.'

 'Luke!' His mama clapped her hands over her ears. 'How dare you use such language in this house. But no matter what you say you will not convince me that the role of governess is a suitable one for a member of this family.'

 'Well, it is generally considered a genteel occupation,' put in Miss Shore. She was aware of Mr Bannerman's eyes upon her and felt her cheeks growing hot. 'However, I was extremely pleased when Mr Bannerman fetched me away.'

 'A veritable knight in shining armour,' murmured Mr Worsthorne, his lip curling.

 Rafe Bannerman's black brows rose. 'What a charming notion.'

 Verity frowned, aware of an undercurrent of tension in the room and looked quickly at the two gentlemen. Mr Worsthorne was glaring across the room at Rafe Bannerman, who stared back, unflinching. Mrs Worsthorne made haste to fill the silence.

 'Well I vow we will make you much more comfortable here, Cousin Verity. But you have eaten nothing, child.'

 Verity shook her head and gave an apologetic smile. 'In truth, ma'am, I am too tired to feel hungry.'

 'Then we will get you to your bed. As soon as you have finished your milk I will show you to your room. Knowing how Master Rafe likes to travel I have no doubt that have been up since dawn. I have told Ella to warm the sheets: she is the under-housemaid but a good, willing girl, and eager to improve herself. She is to wait on you until the weather improves then, if you prefer, we can hire another maid for you in Halifax.'

 Wishing the gentlemen a shy goodnight, Verity accompanied Megs back across the draughty hall and upstairs to a snug little chamber, where she was advised to ignore the wind howling outside the window and make haste to bed. Miss Shore had no difficulty in following her Cousin's advice, but although her body ached from being jolted over bad roads for several hours, she lay awake for some time listening to the wind whistling through the cracks in the casement and hurling icy flakes at the window. She had never been so far north before, and she knew a moment's anxiety at being amongst strangers in this cold, unfriendly place. Then she remembered Hucklow House and a small chuckle escaped her.

 'You were yearning for a little excitement,' she murmured to herself as she snuggled further down under the covers. 'This may well be it!'

Chapter Four

Miss Shore's first thought the next morning was that she did not need to get up to look after her young charges. However, a bubble of excitement forced her from her bed and she threw back the covers, snatching up a shawl to throw around her shoulders as she ran to the window, eager for her first glimpse of the grounds in daylight. Her room was in the west wing, overlooking the curving drive. The house faced north and on the western side a large ornamental pond looked black against the snow-covered lawns, while to the east the lawns ran smooth and uninterrupted as far as the boundary, where a fiery red sun was rising into a clear sky.

The snow had fallen heavily overnight and a driving wind had thrown up thick drifts against the house. Looking past the wrought-iron gates at the end of drive, Verity gazed at the snow-covered moors that rose steeply to the northern horizon, where a rocky granite outcrop interrupted the dazzling expanse of white. Verity hurried into her clothes, eager to explore her new home. The butler showed her to the morning room and informed her in a kindly voice that Mrs Worsthorne would join her shortly. Looking out of the windows, she noted that men were already scraping paths through the snow around the house, while a single horse was pulling a sledge laden with baggage along the drive towards the house.

'Good morning, Cousin Verity. I was hoping that your bags would be brought up before you awoke this morning,' Mrs Worsthorne came into the room, a warm shawl about her shoulders. 'Unfortunately the weather was too bad to venture out again last night and by this morning the snow was so thick the men had to dig themselves out before they could get to the carriage. Thankfully Master Rafe's coachman brought the horses up to the stables last night. They managed quite well once they did not have the weight of the carriage behind them. Now, perhaps you will come with me and tell me which of the bags should go to your room? Most of them will be Master Rafe's but he is already at work in the office, and I do not like to disturb him.'

 Verity followed her hostess into the hall.

 'I thought it was Luke who had the running of the Highclough?'

 'And so he does, but your grandfather had several other properties about the country, and I understand that Sir Ambrose left his matters in something of a tangle. Master Rafe set up his office in what used to be the steward's room, leaving the estate room free for Luke to attend to the Highclough business.'

 After identifying her own small bags, Verity followed Mrs Worsthorne to the dining room, where breakfast awaited them.

 'My dear ma'am, surely you cannot expect me to eat all this?' she declared, looking at the array of dishes on the buffet.

 'Please, dear, call me Megs! I cannot abide ceremony and you will find little of it in this house. And no, I do not expect you to sample everything here, but Master Rafe is always up before dawn and takes nothing but a cup of coffee then, so he will soon need a substantial breakfast.

 'And Luke?'

 'He, too, has been working for hours,' said that gentleman, entering the room in time to hear his name. 'Good morning Cousin. I trust you slept well?'

 'Yes, I was very comfortable, thank you.'

 'The wind did not keep you awake?'

 'No, I soon grew accustomed to it, but my plans for exploring the grounds will have to be curtailed, I think.'

 'It would be wiser to remain indoors,' he agreed, 'at least until the main tracks are cleared.'

 'If you would like it, I can show you over the house itself,' offered Mrs Worsthorne. 'But you should bring a shawl, for we only have fires in the principal rooms, and you will find the rest of the house rather cold.'

 Mr Worsthorne looked up from his breakfast. 'The weather here can be very bleak, Cousin, I hope you have some warm clothes with you.'

 'I shall manage, I think. But that reminds me of another matter I need to discuss.' Miss Shore laid down her knife and looked towards Mrs Worsthorne. 'I had no time to procure mourning clothes -'

 'Oh that will not be necessary my dear. Sir Ambrose has been dead for nearly twelve months already, so it will not be thought odd if you are not seen in deep mourning: the grey gown you are wearing will be perfectly acceptable I assure you, and I have several pairs of black gloves should you need them - not that we see many visitors during the winter.'

 'Are the roads so bad then?'

 'Abominable,' declared Mrs Worsthorne cheerfully. 'To go anywhere we must go either up or down, and that is impossible for the carriage in the snow.'

 'You could walk, Mama,' put in Mr Worsthorne.

 'Yes, I could, if I wanted to arrive at my destination wet to the knees and chilled through!' retorted his mama. 'It is one thing for you to stride across the fields and down into Derringden, quite another for a lady to go visiting on foot during such weather as this!'

 Mr Worsthorne exchanged a merry glance with Verity, who smiled.

 'It seems we must wait for better weather then, before we venture far. In the meantime, I would dearly love to see the house.'

 After breakfast the two ladies set off on a tour of the old house and by the end of the day they were on the best of terms. As Mr Bannerman had predicted, Mrs Worsthorne was happy to have a female companion in the house, and after showing Verity all the rooms and pointing out to her the main outbuildings that could be seen from the windows, they settled down to spend what was left of the day in the upper parlour, engaged in the humble task of mending torn sheets, as Verity happily informed the gentlemen when they all met at dinner.

 Mr Worsthorne frowned at her admission.

 'Really, is that necessary, Mama? Could you not find some more interesting occupation for our Cousin?'

 'The task suited me very well, I assure you.' Verity smiled at him, her eyes twinkling. 'It allowed us to sit before a good fire and enjoy a comfortable cose.'

 Mr Worsthorne looked unconvinced but Mr Bannerman interposed.

 'I understand you toured the house this morning, Miss Shore. What do you think of it?'

 'The interior is very handsome. I especially like the beautiful panelling in the great hall. However, arriving in the dark last night I have yet to see the outside of the building; there is a fine painting of the house on the upper landing which makes me eager to see the original.'

 'And that reminds me,' Mrs Worthorne waved her fork at her son. 'The wall in the yellow bedroom is wet again. I think the snow must be getting in through the roof.'

 'The chimney stonework on that side of the house is in need of attention,' nodded Luke. 'I shall attend to it as soon as the weather improves.' He looked at Verity. 'So you liked the house, Cousin?'

 'Very much.'

 'The interior was largely remodelled by your great-grandfather,' explained Mr Bannerman. 'He built the west wing to provide a ballroom and accommodation for his guests. He had ambitions for his family, I believe. However, the new block at the rear of the main house was the more practical of his achievements: it houses the new kitchens and servants' quarters, and the service rooms at the back of the house were turned into what is now the dining-room and the estate offices leading off the south passage. However, the great hall remains unchanged, and is part of a much earlier structure.'

 'Like the east wing,' put in Mrs Worsthorne. 'Which is why the roof leaks so badly!'

 'You will find that Rafe is very well informed about Highclough,' remarked Mr Worsthorne, refilling his glass.

 'The house's history is constantly being revealed to me as I make sense of Sir Ambrose's affairs,' returned Mr Bannerman evenly.

 'And are those affairs in a very bad way?' enquired Verity.

 Mr Bannerman paused as if deciding how much to disclose.

 'Sir Ambrose had neglected his estates for some years. Oh, Highclough itself is in good shape, Luke has taken care of that, but there are other farms and properties near Bradford and Leeds that have been allowed to fall into disrepair, and there are several farms where rents have not been collected or, worse, the tenant has quit and the land has been left idle. Add to that disputed titles -'

 'I suppose it is useless to tell you that Reedley is quite capable of dealing with all this?' drawled Luke. 'There is no reason for you to neglect your own property.'

 Verity looked up. 'Is that what you are doing, sir? Then surely -'

 Mr Bannerman shrugged. 'My own estates are in good heart, never fear. But as to your point, Luke, Reedley is old, and while I agree he is very thorough, he lacks the energy to pursue some of these outstanding matters. However, it is all well in hand now, and I shall have everything ready to pass over to Miss Shore when she attains her majority.'

 'But it seems unreasonable that you should put in so much of your own time for my benefit.' argued that lady.

 Rafe Bannerman looked at her.

 'Sir Ambrose was a good friend to my family, and after my father's death he became a guide and mentor to me.'

 Verity flushed. 'Of course. I am sorry, I never meant to imply – '

 'I promised him I would do all I could to help. But set your mind at rest, Miss Shore. My work here is finished for the present and if the weather holds, I shall go home tomorrow, and trespass no longer on your hospitality.'

 The next morning Verity received the news of Mr Bannerman's departure with mixed feelings. When Ella brought her hot chocolate and informed her that the gentleman had already left, she was disappointed that he had not waited to take his leave of her, but at the same time she had been aware of a tension between Rafe and Luke Worsthorne. She hoped that with Mr Bannerman safely out of the house she would be able to get to know her new relations in a more relaxed atmosphere. She made her way to the dining-room to find both Mrs Worsthorne and her son were there before her. Luke greeted her with a smile and rose to set a chair for her.

 'What plans to you have for today, Cousin?' he asked, as he resumed his seat.

 'Why, none. That is, I thought I could help my Cousin with the inventory she is compiling.'

 He pulled a face.

 'Very dull work. Walk with me instead!'

 Verity glanced out of the window. The snow was still thick on the ground, a dazzling contrast to the rich, clear blue of the sky, but the main drive had been cleared.

 'It is very tempting … '

 Luke grinned. 'Then succumb to the temptation, Cousin! Have you stout boots to wear, or shall I ask Mama to lend you her pattens?'

 'No need, my boots will be sufficient. If Megs can do without me?'

 'Of course. In fact, I shall be pleased to see Luke take time off from the estate business. I vow sometimes think he gives Highclough too much of his time.'

 Luke poured a cup of coffee and handed it to Verity.

 'So you see, Cousin, it is your duty to step out with me!'

* * * *

 The air was bracing, and as they walked down the main drive away from the house the keen easterly wind whipped the colour into Verity's cheeks. She looked towards the tall wrought-iron gates that stood out blackly against the white snow. Luke pulled her hand through his arm.