Stay with Me (20 page)

‘And he?'

‘Plenty of money, even without the inheritance from his uncle. His father has built up a thriving wool business.'

‘Is he not involved in that?'

‘Oh, yes, and no doubt will go on benefiting from it, but Charles always had a hankering for the land. It will be interesting to hear of his plans now that he has inherited this estate.'

‘Do you know who else has been invited?'

‘No.'

‘Then that will certainly make this weekend even more fascinating.'

 

The weather was milder and the snows of January had all but gone when Alistair drove Lena to Weaver Hall in the heart of the Wolds. He was solicitous for her comfort on the way and kept up a lively conversation about Whitby and his work there, so that it seemed to her he was trying to paint a picture of what life would be like for them both as man and wife, though she was aware that he was painting the glossy side only and ignoring what, to her, would be the more disagreeable aspects of being a doctor's wife.

The track dipped into a shallow valley and after a mile Alistair turned the carriage between imposing gates that had been left open. He urged the horse up an incline, and when they topped the rise, Lena gasped.

‘Beautiful!'

Alistair reined the horse to a stop. ‘It is, isn't it?'

‘You've been here before?' She knew the answer from the tone of his voice.

‘I have, once.'

‘You never told me.'

‘I suspected from what Charles said that day there would be a small gathering to celebrate the completion of the renovations, and I wanted this view to surprise you.'

He held the horse steady while Lena drank in the prospect of a solid, foursquare stone house, its masonry glinting in the winter light. It had obviously been considerably embellished and improved recently: she could see extensions on the slight incline behind the main building. The track ahead gave way to a gravel carriage drive that swung in a wide loop in front of the house.

By the time Alistair was pulling their conveyance to a halt two groomsmen had appeared; one was immediately at the horse's head, holding it steady, while the other was lowering the step to help Lena to the ground. As Alistair stepped down after her a voice boomed from the stone veranda that ran the full width of the house.

‘Welcome to Weaver Hall.'

Alistair looked up to see his friend standing at the top of four wide stone steps leading to the veranda, his arms held wide open in a gesture of welcome.

‘Charles!'

Lena eyed their host as she held on to Alistair's arm for support.

‘Come on, meet our host,' he said enthusiastically.

‘Welcome to Weaver Hall, Miss Carnforth. Alistair told me a lot about you when he last visited. His words did not do you justice, even though he waxed eloquent, I assure you.' Charles Sugden bowed as he took her hand and raised it to his lips.

‘Thank you, Mr Sugden.' Lena inclined her head. ‘It is my pleasure to meet you, and may I thank you for your kind invitation. Your home enjoys an exquisite setting.'

‘I'm glad you like it. Come and meet my wife.' He had heard her footsteps as she left the house and came towards them. ‘Marcia, this is Miss Carnforth, Alistair's friend.'

Lena saw herself facing someone of about her own age but there, as far as physical attributes went, she felt the comparison ended, for she was dazzled by the beauty in this face of perfect symmetry. Marcia's skin was flawless.Thin eyebrows, gracefully arched, were complemented by long eyelashes as dark as the hair drawn neatly on to the top of her head. It took little imagination to picture it released from its pins and cascading beyond the nape of her neck like a delicate tumbling waterfall. It was Marcia's eyes that made the greatest impact, though. They sparkled like the diamonds in the leaf brooch pinned at the throat of her high collar. Lena saw they were full of vitality, as if this young woman would find joy in whatever attracted her attention.

‘I am so delighted you could come. Welcome to our home.'

Lena was struck by the gentle warmth in her voice. The conventional welcome was expressed with such sincerity that even as they walked towards the front door, Lena knew the inside of the house would be warm and cosy, welcoming in its own way. This would be a home, not a showpiece, though she had no doubt that what she would see would be of the very best.

Servants had hurried from the house to take charge of their luggage. As they entered the house others appeared to take their outdoor clothes, while a footman came forward with a cup of steaming punch.

Lena realised not one order had been given yet everything had worked like clockwork. She knew this to be a well-run house. At that moment a straight-backed woman clad in a black dress crossed the hall towards them.

‘Mrs Welburn, my dear and exceptional housekeeper! Mrs Welburn, this is Mr Nash and Miss Carnforth from Whitby.' Marcia turned to the new arrivals. ‘Mrs Welburn will see to your needs. Anything you need or wish to know, ask her. She has allocated you a personal maid, Miss Carnforth, and you a personal footman, Mr Nash.'

They both made their thanks. The housekeeper gave a polite smile and left Charles and Marcia to take their friends to the drawing-room.

‘She is a gem,' said Marcia quietly to Lena as they entered the room. Lena knew that was true, but also reckoned that behind Mrs Welburn's efficiency lay Marcia's watchful eye and benevolent authority.

The room she found herself in was larger than Lena had expected, with two fireplaces sending flames sparkling upwards and contributing the tantalising sound of crackling logs. The furniture was light and graceful, obviously made especially for this setting.

‘This is delightful, Mrs Sugden,' said Lena, her expression filled with admiration as she looked round the room.

‘I'm glad you like it, Miss Carnforth - oh, look, we cannot go on like this all this weekend. You are here to enjoy yourselves, and hopefully we will all be friends together.' She gestured impatiently with her arms. ‘Mrs Sugden, Miss Carnforth - far too formal on such an occasion! Marcia, please. And do you prefer Pauline or Lena, Miss Carnforth?'

‘Lena, please, everyone calls me that.'

‘Good. That is settled then. I will tell everyone the same as they arrive.'

‘How many guests are you expecting?'

‘Originally there would have been twenty-four including ourselves, but two couples have had to cry off due to illness so there will now be twenty of us. Everyone except you and another couple is married. They should all be here for a light tea at five. You'll meet them then. Dinner will be at eight, and we'll gather here in the drawing-room half an hour before.'

‘What would I do without such an organiser?' sighed Charles, gazing adoringly at his beautiful and accomplished wife.

 

When Lena was shown to her room she judged that no expense had been spared to make it comfortable and welcoming. A fire burned cheerfully in the grate and was reflected in the large mirror on the opposite side of the room. The chintz curtains were patterned with pink roses on a white background and complemented by the colours of the cushions in the easy chairs situated on either side of the fireplace. Feminine touches were everywhere and Lena knew immediately this room, with its single bed, had received Marcia's personal touch and thought when designated for a female guest. A dressing-table, frilled with chintz and lace, was positioned to catch the light from the large sash window. Her curiosity could not be stifled any longer so she went to the door next to a large mahogany wardrobe and opened it to find that she was seeing the latest innovation: indoor sanitation. Returning to the bedroom, she went to look out of the window.

Though the scene still held the sombre aspect of winter there was evidence in the small copse to the right that spring was not too far away. An extensive lawn, edged with now moribund flowerbeds, gave way to fields that gently climbed a hillside. Lena let her imagination run riot as she pictured the scene ablaze with colour throughout the ever-changing seasons. She experienced a sensation of space and freedom and realised it was similar to the sensation that had come over her when she stood on the banks of the Humber with Peter.

A knock on the door broke her reverie. She turned and called, ‘Come in.'

A girl of about sixteen appeared. ‘Good day, miss,' she said brightly. ‘I'm Marie, your personal maid. Is there anything I can do for you?'

‘I'm pleased to meet you, Marie,' returned Lena, making her tone warm to put the maid at her ease. ‘You may unpack my two valises,' she said, indicating them.

‘Yes, miss.' Marie went about her task efficiently, hanging dresses with care and putting the rest of Lena's clothes neatly in the bow-fronted chest of drawers while she saw to her more personal belongings.

Without appearing too inquisitive, Lena learned that Marie had come to work at Weaver Hall when the Sugdens had inherited the estate and had been there throughout the period of renovation. She learned what the house had looked like formerly and how it had been altered, and realised from snippets that Marie let drop that she thought highly of her employers and could not imagine working anywhere else.

By the time tea was ready in the drawing-room, Lena felt fresher for her toilette after the journey as she viewed herself in the full-length mirror on the wardrobe door and considered which of her several brooches would be best suited to her blue-lavender day dress. She finally chose her favourite piece of jet, judging rightly that it would complement the narrow black trimmings on the jacket-style bodice, that emphasised her slender proportions.

She found several people already in the drawing-room but there was no sign of Alistair. She knew Marcia had seen her, for she saw her make her excuses to the two people to whom she was talking and come over.

‘I hope you found everything to your liking?'

‘Indeed I did,' replied Lena. ‘I will be most comfortable. And what a wonderful view you have given me.'

‘And Marie?'

‘She could not have looked after me any better.'

‘Good, now come and meet some of my guests. The others are not down yet and Charles will be along shortly.'

Marcia escorted her around the room, making the introductions. Lena was warmly greeted in a friendly atmosphere that had been engendered by Marcia, who finally left her talking to Mr and Mrs Wallis from Bridlington and went to seek out her husband.

Lena's back was to the doorway so she was unaware of someone approaching until a request was voiced.

‘Margaret, Kenneth, might I spirit Miss Carnforth away from you?'

Lena stiffened. That voice! Surely she was mistaken?

‘Of course, Peter,' came the reply from Margaret who smiled at Lena. ‘It has been very pleasant talking to you.'

Lena's mind was in such a whirl that she could do no more than incline her head in agreement. As the Wallises moved away she turned to see Peter Hustwick claiming her attention.

‘Mr Hustwick! What are you doing here?' Even though she realised this was a silly question the words were out.

He grinned. ‘The same as you, I expect, I'm a guest of Marcia and Charles.'

‘But, Mr Hustwick . . .'

He raised his hand to stop her. ‘If I am correct our hostess will already have insisted that you, along with the rest of us, be on first-name terms. So, Pauline, it should be Peter. I fear you are not here alone?' He cast his gaze around the room as if looking for a likely candidate to be Lena's escort.

‘He hasn't come down yet,' she explained.

‘The doctor, no doubt.'

‘You have a good memory.'

‘I have, and I still remember you said you would like to sail with me on the Humber. I will hold you to that.'

Lena's thoughts raced. He had remembered! Then he must have thought about her . . .

At that moment a young lady came to stand beside them and slid her arm through Peter's. She smiled at Lena. ‘I have someone I want Peter to meet. Do you mind if I take him away from you?'

Lena was stunned but managed to make a courteous reply. ‘Not at all.'

Peter made no introduction but bowed to Lena, his eyes teasing, as if he knew what thoughts were in her head.

As she watched them walk away, arm-in-arm, Lena found herself filled with jealousy. She tightened her lips and chastised herself for reacting like a young girl - and for wondering what rights that young woman exerted over Peter Hustwick.

‘You seem very thoughtful.'

Lena spun round, startled ‘Oh, Alistair.'

‘You looked far away.'

She gathered her thoughts quickly. ‘I was admiring that dress,' she said, indicating the young woman on Peter's arm.

Alistair shot a quick glance in her direction. ‘Not a patch on yours,' he commented. ‘In fact, you are beyond anyone else in the room.'

Lena gave a small smile. ‘That's sweet of you, but I'm sure you are mistaken.'

‘Not in my eyes.'

‘Have you met everyone?' she asked, directing the conversation away from where she thought it might be heading.

‘No. I met two couples as I came downstairs.'

‘Then let me introduce you to those I have already met.'

Conversation was flowing pleasantly as the guests got to know each other, and the atmosphere became even more relaxed when Marcia returned with Charles who apologised for not being there sooner because of a small crisis on the farm. When the gathering showed concern he quickly reassured everyone that there was no cause for unease as the problem had been solved.