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Authors: Elizabeth Mansfield

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“But … but …
Charles,
” Nell gasped, her face pale, “is
that
the only …? I mean, you certainly are not counting on Nigel's settlement as your primary source of support, are you? Mr. Prickett told me that your allowances are very generous and could keep us quite comfortably, if only we practiced a few economies …”

“Don't be ridiculous,” Sybil said scornfully. “The economies that Mr. Prickett suggests are out of the question. He wants us to limit our entertaining to one or two small dinners a season, for example. And he told me to postpone the redecoration of the drawing room even after I clearly told him that I'd already ordered several chairs.”

“The man has no understanding of our way of life,” Charles added. “He as much as told me I should quit my
clubs
!”

“But … would it be so very bad to … to …?”

Charles and Sybil both turned and stared at Nell closely. “
To quit my clubs
?” Charles asked in a choked voice. “You must be
mad
!”

“And you'd be mad indeed if you failed to realize that one's social standing depends on the ability to entertain in the proper style,” her godmother added, watching Nell through narrowed eyes. “But why are you suggesting such things?”

Nell sank back in her chair and lowered her eyes. “Well, I …” she began. Then her courage failed her and she remained silent.

Sybil and Charles exchanged puzzled glances, while Lady Amelia, sensing that an explosion was about to occur, jumped into the breach with the only defenses she had available. “Let us all have some tea to calm ourselves,” she urged. “I've managed to keep it quite warm—”

“Will you tell your aunt to cease and desist?” Sybil muttered to her husband between clenched teeth. “I don't want to hear another word about
tea
!”

Charles rose and confronted his aunt. “Please, Aunt Amelia, you are driving us all to apoplexy!
We do not want tea
!”

“Very well, Charles,” Amelia said in a voice that trembled in offended dignity, “you needn't shout. I heard your wife quite clearly. I shall not bring up the subject again.”

“Perhaps you'd best go to bed, Amelia. All this commotion must have tired you,” Lady Sybil suggested pointedly.

The old lady put her chin up defiantly. “Not at all,” she said proudly. “I am quite well and intend to remain as long as I please. I would be much obliged if you'd take no notice of me. I shall simply sit here quietly and … and drink my tea.”

Lady Sybil sighed in defeat. Lady Amelia had as much right in this house as she herself—more, if one took into account the fact that she had lived with her brother, the Earl, all of his lifetime and had been well provided for in the will. In addition, the Earl had stipulated that his estates must always be made available for her use whenever she should desire to occupy them for as long as she lived. There was nothing Sybil could do but put up with her. “Very well. Stay if you like. But don't interrupt us, please. Well, Nell, what were you about to say?”

“I was about to say that … that … we may
have
to institute the economies Mr. Prickett suggested,” Nell said in a small voice.

“Why?” Sybil asked tensely. “What have you done, girl?”

Charles looked from his wife's tightly compressed lips to Nell's bent head. “Sybil? What is it? What's amiss?”

Sybil did not turn her eyes from her ward. “Nell? Not
again!
You didn't do it
again
, did you?”

Nell nodded sheepishly, not daring to raise her eyes.

Sybil let out a piercing scream. “No! N-No!” She clutched her breast and tottered to a chair. “I shall have a seizure! My God, I shall have a seizure and die right here this minute!” And she pulled a handkerchief from her dress and waved it weakly before her reddened face.

Charles gaped at his wife in confusion. “What is it, my dear? What has she done?”

Sybil glared at her husband impatiently. “Really, Charles, can't you
guess
? She's
cried off
!”

“Cried off?” Charles blinked his eyes slowly, but as the enormity of the situation dawned on him, his face reddened in fury. “You little
ninny,
” he shouted, “did you
dare
to play that trick again?”

“Charles!” Amelia gasped, shocked by his rudeness.

“Stay out of this, Amelia,” Charles told her curtly.

“Please!” Nell urged a little breathlessly. “I know I've shocked you both, but wouldn't it be best to discuss this matter a bit more calmly?”

Sybil turned to her ward with a desperate suggestion. “It was a lover's quarrel, wasn't it? Nothing but a lover's quarrel. Tell me that I've hit on the truth of it! It can be mended, can't it? It
must
be mended. I will go to see Nigel tomorrow and explain that you cried all night. He'll come rushing round to take you in his arms, and all will be well.”

Nell shook her head. “It was not a lover's quarrel.”

Sybil's face puckered and tears filled her eyes. “Of
course
it was a lover's quarrel. What else could it have been? Nell, my dear girl, don't you know I want the best for you? How can you
do
this to me? I've given you a home, a family, all my
love
!” Tears rolled down her cheeks and she held out a trembling hand. “Please, my dear, tell me it was only a little quarrel!”

Nell shook her head firmly and took her aunt's hand. “Please, dear, don't cry. We shall brush through somehow. But I
cannot
marry Nigel. He is the greatest bore, the most insufferable prig and the most conceited dolt. You cannot wish me to spend my life with such a man.”

“But most women learn—as you must—to compromise their standards when they marry. We none of us find the man of our dreams! Why can't
you
make that compromise—like the rest of us?” Sybil asked urgently.

“I've tried, truly,” Nell said, getting to her feet and speaking strongly. “I compromised with my heart when I first agreed to accept him. I did it to please you. But I didn't realize, because I didn't know him well enough, that wedded life with Nigel would be beyond compromise—it would be a prison sentence.”

“You are overdramatizing,” Charles said flatly. “You women have too much sensibility.”

“Charles is right,” Sybil agreed. “Something has happened to disturb you, and now you refine on it too much.”

“How can you say that after I've told you what I think of him?” Nell cried.

“But, my dear,” her godmother answered, “it doesn't matter what sort of man he is. Perhaps I shouldn't say this, but it is something you are bound to discover for yourself once you are married. Marriage is primarily for convenience. Before marriage, society's eyes are always upon you, but once you are wedded, you will find that you can contrive to go your own way. It is not an uncommon practice among married people.”


Really
, Sybil!” Amelia put in, appalled.

Nell, too, was appalled. She had not known that her guardians were capable of such calculating heartlessness. “I could not live that way,” she said quietly, turning away from them.

“You will have to, Miss,” Sybil snapped. “It is necessary to us.”

Nell merely shook her head.

“Is this the gratitude we should expect from a girl we took in and reared as our own?” her godmother demanded with a throbbing voice.

“I
am
grateful. Please believe that,” Nell answered earnestly. “But you cannot wish me to sacrifice my life to permit you to
entertain
lavishly! Or to allow Charles to gamble away the fortune at his club! The price you ask is too high for that.”

Charles indignantly stalked to the fireplace. Taking an authoritative stance, he faced his ward threateningly. “I've heard enough. We've spoiled you, Miss. We've indulged these whims long enough. Now I'm
ordering
you to obey me—you will agree to commision your godmother to pay a call on Sir Nigel in the morning, when she will tell him that you've regretted your hasty words to him and that, if he will forgive you, you will never again behave in this way.”

“No, I will not agree,” Nell said flatly.

“I give you no choice in this matter. You will do as I say!”

“You cannot compel me, Charles. If Sybil
can
convince Nigel to give me another chance—which I very much doubt—I shall deny it
all
the moment he comes to see me.”

Charles and Sybil exchanged looks of helpless frustration. Then Sybil, trembling, jumped to her feet and confronted her ward. “If you persist in opposing us, Helen Belden, we shall send you away! Far away from everyone and everything you've known. You shall live
alone
, with no one to talk to, with no shops, no libraries, no parties, no friends. We shall send you as far away as we possibly can. To … to … Charles, which one of the estates is the farthest from London?”

Charles looked at his wife admiringly. The woman was never at a loss for ideas. “Thorndene!” he answered promptly. “That ramshackle place we have in Cornwall.”

“You can't send the girl to Cornwall—it's coming on
winter!
No one goes to Cornwall in winter,” Amelia protested.

“Cornwall!” Sybil smiled in malicious delight. “It's perfect. It's as gloomy and lonely a place as one would wish. It's the end of the world, my girl, the end of the world! We'll just
see
how long you'll endure it there!”

Nell looked from one to the other undaunted. “Very well. If I must choose between living with Nigel or living alone at the end of the world, I choose the end of the world. Send me to Cornwall if you must.”

“Very well,” Sybil said curtly, “you've made your choice. I shall make arrangements tomorrow morning, if a night's reflection doesn't change your mind.”

“I won't change my mind.”

“I'd think on it, if I were you,” Charles advised.

“Stubborn chit,” Sybil muttered, crossing to her husband. “Don't trouble to argue with her, Charles. Let her go to Cornwall. She'll find herself so bored and lonely that, before a fortnight has elapsed, she'll
plead
with us to permit her to return.”

Charles nodded agreement. Perhaps this extemporaneous plan would work. The girl could not be coerced, that much was clear. But banishment to a cold and lonely house, especially after the lively, crowded social whirl she'd been enjoying in London, might be the very thing to bring her round. His wife was clever, he'd say that for her. He offered her his arm. “Come, Sybil, let's go to bed.”

Sybil accompanied him to the door, but before leaving she turned back to her recalcitrant ward. “Tell your abigail to begin packing,” she said icily. “But don't imagine that I'll permit her to accompany you. You'll have to make do with the staff at Thorndene.”

“Very well, ma'am,” Nell answered with rigid formality.

“Aren't you coming up to bed, Aunt Amelia?” Charles asked.

“Not yet. I wish to discuss something with Nell first,” the old lady said placidly. “We have some plans to make.”

“Plans?” He looked at his aunt with suspicion. “What plans?”

Amelia busily fiddled with the teapot. “My plans to leave with her.” She looked up at her nephew bravely. “You see, dear boy,
I'm
going to Thorndene, too.”

“Wh-what?” Charles sputtered furiously. “To Thorndene? What do you mean? Are you trying to interfere with the disciplinary measures I see fit to administer to my ward?”

Sybil put a restraining hand on his arm. “Don't fly into a pucker, Charles. Let her go. We could not send Nell away unchaperoned. Amelia will serve very well.”

Charles shrugged. “Oh, very well then. I don't suppose
her
presence will make a great deal of difference, one way or another.”

“Amelia, dear, you needn't make such a sacrifice for me,” Nell said quietly.

“Not all all,” Amelia declared with unaccustomed spirit. “I make no sacrifice. There would be no one here I'd care to be with, once you were gone.” And she threw her nephew and his wife a rebellious glance.

“Very well then, Aunt. Have it your own way,” Charles said from the doorway. “I advise you both to take yourselves upstairs and arrange to have your things packed at once.”

“We will,” Amelia said, a new note of daring in her fluttery voice, “in due time. But first, Nell and I are going to … to …”

“To what?” Lady Sybil asked suspiciously.

Nell and Amelia looked at each other, their eyes smiling with affectionate understanding. “To have our tea, of course,” Nell said contentedly.

Chapter Three

T
RUE TO THEIR WORDS,
Lady Sybil and Lord Charles sent Nell into exile. A week later, Nell was seated beside Lady Amelia in a rented coach crossing Bodmin Moor during a driving rainstorm. It had taken three days and two sleepless nights on the London-to-Exeter stage, another day to arrange for the rented hack, and another two days of bumpy riding to come this far. The coachman had assured her this morning that they were certain to reach Padstow before nightfall, but it was already darkening and (from what little Nell could see through the heavy rain) there was no end of the depressing Bodmin Moor in sight.

When Nell had first realized she was to be banished, she had been undismayed. To her lively, imaginative mind, the trip had promised adventure in a colorful and distant land. And she would not be alone; Lady Amelia's generous impulse to join her in her exile was extremely comforting. Amelia, who had a sensible mind and a gentle, generous spirit, would be, despite her seventy-some-odd years, a pleasant companion. But the length of the journey, the lack of sleep and the sound of the rain drumming with discouraging persistence on the roof of the coach all combined to depress her spirits. Amelia was drowsing beside her, thus offering no encouraging words. And the view from her window of Bodmin Moor, its bleak, solitary expanse stretching into infinity, sent a chill to her very bones. All this made Nell feel that perhaps Sybil had been right—she might not be able to withstand so much as a fortnight in this dismal place.

BOOK: The Phantom Lover
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