A Country Gentleman (11 page)

No doubt her young companions of the morning would have thought that she was a trifle strange, but Lavinia had found it all a little dull so far. She had deliberately worn stout shoes, but she had hardly found them necessary. What was more, she would much rather have wandered around with Miss Wheatman and Lord Thurlby, and heard about the history of the place, than listened to gossip about a lot of people most of whom she had never met, and whom she was sure she would not have found particularly agreeable had she done so. However, it was much easier to allow Isobel to lead the conversation than to try to insert a new subject into their talk, particularly one that the other girl would not find congenial. Besides, she had a grave suspicion that any attempts to talk about the ruins would only result in her being condemned as a blue-stocking. She could but hope that she would have the chance to see more of the castle after nuncheon.

As she glanced around, she saw that preparations were being made for their meal. The servants had brought blankets which Miss Wheatman was spreading out in a shady place on the grass next to the castle walls. Lavinia hurried to help her. She looked up from straightening one of the corners to see that one of the menservants was bringing a box which, from the rattling sound emerging from it probably contained cutlery. To her great surprise, however, a huge, two-handled wicker basket was being carried by a footman at one side and the earl at the other. The men were exchanging the odd comment as they walked. Obviously this was not the first time that Thurlby had lent
assistance
in such a way.

He had taken off his coat in order to perform this task, and Lavinia’s eyes were particularly drawn to the way in which the
light breeze moulded his shirt to his well-formed chest and biceps.

‘Yes, very impressive,’ Isobel whispered to Lavinia, causing her to blush bright red.

After everything was laid out on the grass, the earl put his coat back on with the footman’s assistance, then said to him, ‘Go and enjoy your own meal, now. I’ll call if I need anything.’

Lavinia watched the man’s retreating figure for a moment or two then said, ‘The staff are picnicking too?’

‘They have to eat,’ he replied easily. ‘As long as they look after the horses, I see no reason why they shouldn’t enjoy the day as well. We need no one to serve us here.’ He wondered what had happened to embarrass her a short time before, but noted how a touch of colour became her. Some country air was doing her good after her stay in London, he decided.

The meal was a cheerful affair. After the basket had been unpacked and Thurlby had poured the wine, they all sat down to enjoy bread, pickles, cold chicken, cheese, and a fruit cake. It was warm and sheltered in the courtyard, and after a glass or two of wine, Miss Wheatman looked ready for a nap.

‘I am happy to stay with you, Aunt,’ said Miss Tasker
cheerfully
. ‘Timothy has dragged me all over this castle already, and I would be glad to sit down for a while.’

‘Perhaps if you have shown Miss Tasker the main points of interest, you would like to show them to me, now,’ said Isobel prettily to Mr Ames. ‘We did not get round to exploring properly this morning.’

The vicar eyed her slippers doubtfully. ‘Will you be able to manage in those?’ he asked her.

‘If I cannot, then you will just have to help me,’ she said, fluttering her eyelashes as she took his arm.

‘What do you say to exploring the moat, and seeing if we can find a weakness in the defences?’ said Hawkfield to Laver. The latter was quite amenable to this suggestion, and the two soon set off.

‘You are now left with very little alternative by way of an escort, I fear,’ Thurlby said to Lavinia. ‘Shall we walk, ma’am?’

‘With pleasure,’ she replied truthfully. If she was honest with herself, she would have had to admit that she wanted to see whether she would again experience the strange sensation of attraction that she had felt in Lord Thurlby’s company, or whether it had been something that she had imagined. Now, as she laid her hand upon his arm, she knew that it was real enough.

Determined not to betray some kind of interest that was almost certainly not returned, however, she said, ‘I am hoping that you will have benefited from Miss Wheatman’s instruction. What can you tell me about this place?’

In the meantime, Isobel was saying something very similar to Mr Ames. ‘There must be a chapel,’ she went on. ‘You must show me the chapel.’

‘Yes, there is indeed,’ he agreed. ‘It is this way.’

Perhaps because of reverence, or primitive superstition, those who had plundered the castle had left the chapel alone and it was one of the parts of the building that remained more-or-less intact. It had a fine, high ceiling, decorated with stone bosses, and a balcony which looked down onto the high altar.

‘This is splendid,’ said Isobel looking around her. ‘Now do not tell me that you would not like to be the vicar of a place like this. How romantic to live here!’ She twirled around, holding her arms, out, then stopped, and looked at him in a way that managed to seem both guilty and saucy at the same time. ‘Oh dear! I fear that I have been disrespectful. Pray forgive me, sir!’

‘Not at all,’ the vicar responded. ‘It is a lovely place, you are quite right.’

‘What tales must have been told here! What joy! What sadness! What stories of romance must have been lived out over the years!’

‘What coughs, colds and chilblains,’ he replied with a twinkle.

‘It is beautiful, I grant you; but I would not exchange the parson’s living quarters here for my cosy vicarage.’

‘Mr Ames, you are not romantic enough!’ Isobel declared.

‘It is a fault, I admit it.’

‘I shall have to teach you,’ she smiled. ‘Show me something else.’

‘I think I know what you would like to see,’ said Lord Thurlby to Lavinia. He pointed to the highest tower. ‘Would you like to ascend and take a look at the view? Miss Wheatman is not fond of heights, so we did not go up there this morning.’

‘I would like to do so very much,’ she replied. ‘Is it safe?’

‘Yes it is. The owner regularly checks the premises for
structural
soundness, as the castle attracts many visitors.’

They ascended the spiral staircase, Lavinia going first. It was a longer climb than was apparent at first, but when, as they reached the top breathless, they stepped out into the fresh air, they felt that all their efforts had been rewarded. The day was clear, and the view was splendid. Lord Thurlby knew the countryside well, and was able to point out what stood in each direction.

As he spoke with authority about the countryside which was spread out before them like a carpet, Lavinia made an interesting discovery. ‘You have been here before, have you not?’

‘Yes, I have,’ he agreed.

‘But you did not say so. Why ever not?’

‘I was afraid you’d laugh at me if I told you,’ he said ruefully.

‘I would never be so uncivil,’ she replied.

‘Would you not? Egad, I believe you. Very well, then. I came here with a party of friends some years ago. There was a young lady with whom I was besotted at the time. I was hoping to propose in this romantic setting.’

He fell silent. Eventually, Lavinia, who had been seized by a most unexpected stab of jealousy, said, ‘I assume that she … refused you.’

‘She didn’t get the opportunity,’ he replied. ‘Discovering her entwined with a neighbour’s son had the effect of banishing my ardour.’

She gasped. ‘I’m not surprised. How very shocking. Did you knock him down?’

‘I did not have the right. There was no understanding between us. Soon afterwards, they announced their engagement. He was several years older than me, you see. They are now living in a distant county. As I am sure you can imagine, this place did not hold very happy memories for me. I confess that I felt a certain reluctance at the prospect of coming here, but now I must be grateful for having had my hand forced. The ghosts seem to have gone.’

Lavinia smiled, and laid a hand on his arm. ‘I am glad,’ she said. ‘I hope that you will now have happier memories to replace them.’ Suddenly realizing that he might think that she was attempting to flirt with him, she snatched her hand away quickly and said, ‘But you have not told me about all the sights. What other landmarks can be seen from here?’

‘Over there, you can just make out Lincoln Cathedral,’ he replied, after a brief pause.

‘Where? Where?’ she asked, looking anywhere, but in the right direction.

‘There,’ he said, crouching a little, so that he could see from her point of view. He put one hand gently on her back, and leaned close to her, pointing again.

‘I see it,’ she said; but suddenly, the sight of Lincoln Cathedral was less significant than the way that he was making her feel. She looked at him, their eyes met, and her hand went to her throat.

Thurlby, too, was obviously affected in some way by their closeness, for he straightened, cleared his throat and put his hands behind his back. ‘Shall we go and have a look at the rest of the castle? Would you like to see the dungeons?’

He is embarrassed at being up here alone with me, she
thought to herself. He wants to go back down to the courtyard and join the rest of the party, so that a group of us may go to the dungeons together. ‘Yes … yes, of course,’ she said, anxious that he should not suspect the truth, which was that she had suddenly realized how very much she wanted to be alone with him. She turned away quickly, and, in her haste, caught her foot against a projecting stone, and stumbled. She was never in any real danger of falling from the tower; at the worst, she might have grazed her arm against the wall, but moving swiftly, Lord Thurlby prevented her from sustaining any injury by catching hold of her in his arms.

He drew her closer; he lowered his head; for a moment, she thought that he was going to kiss her and she held her breath. Some rooks flew overhead, cawing loudly and breaking the spell.

‘Thank you,’ she murmured, looking away from him.

He released her at once, flushing. ‘You must take great care in these old buildings,’ he said, sounding strained. ‘The floors are often very uneven.’

‘I will take more care in the future,’ she answered, conscious of feeling disappointed as they descended the stairs.

Thurlby walked down ahead of her, so that he might break her fall should she trip. And while for her part, Lavinia was
somewhat
preoccupied by the pleasing sight of his broad shoulders, he found himself thinking about the young woman who was just behind him. If he paused, he might even feel her breath on his hair.

He had been sorely tempted to kiss her a few moments ago. The sound of the rooks overhead had brought him to his senses. He hardly knew whether to be glad or sorry. Now that the moment was past, he remembered how Lavinia had arrived in Lincolnshire having been the willing recipient of Riseholm’s advances. She had never excused herself or given any explanation for her entanglement with his rakeship. Thurlby grinned
humourlessly
. Whatever his faults, the man had ever had good taste.

This visit to Folkingham may have laid some ghosts, but the memories remained. He could still recall how he had felt when he had encountered the girl he had set his heart upon in another man’s arms. He had no desire to repeat the experience. Even so, he could not deny the attraction that he felt for Lavinia – an attraction which, despite any relationship she might have had with his rakeship would not go away.

She had assured him that that entanglement was over and done with, and he had no reason to doubt her word. Nevertheless, would a woman who had danced and flirted with men of the town during the London season be content with country life?

The direction of his thoughts almost caused him to miss his footing. Why should Lavinia live in the country? Her aunt and uncle would return to London eventually, and she would make her home with them again, surely? There were only two possible reasons that he could think of for her to live at Thurlby Hall. One would be for his mother to take the burden of her care off her uncle and aunt’s shoulders. The other he hardly dared name; but the thought of it made his heart beat a little faster.

Chapter Eleven

I
sobel and Timothy Ames were already inspecting the dungeons. This had, inevitably, been at the lady’s behest. Mr Ames had again suggested that her shoes might not be entirely suitable for such an expedition, but she had pouted, insisting that she did not want to miss something so interesting, simply because she did not possess the right sort of shoes. She managed to make it sound as though some unkind person had denied her the chance of having boots, and earned a thoroughly
undeserved
sympathetic look from the vicar.

‘Of course we shall go down to the dungeons if you wish it,’ he said kindly. ‘I will assist you.’

‘Thank you,’ replied Isobel, laying her hand on his arm.

Lord Thurlby had taken the precaution of bringing some candles for the use of the party, and the vicar made sure that he had one with him when they went down to the dungeon. It was indeed very needful, for there were no windows at all in the lower chamber, and without a candle, it would have been impossible to see anything, except for the small area at the foot of the stairs. It was also damp and chilly – hardly the place to visit when wearing a thin muslin dress and very little else. Isobel, however, showed no signs of physical discomfort. She looked around the murky chamber, which was only faintly illuminated by the candle held high in Mr Ames’s hand.

‘What terror must have been felt by those who were escorted to this place,’ she murmured, looking round and shuddering
artistically
. ‘Just imagine how they might have despaired as the light disappeared and they were left in complete darkness! What horror!’

‘Yes indeed, it is dreadful to contemplate,’ Ames agreed.

His mind was not upon this present visit, but was busily
recollecting
what had occurred when he and Caroline Tasker had explored the dungeon before they had eaten their meal. Alone in the darkness, they had swayed together and he had dropped his candle to the floor where it had immediately gone out. Then he had pulled her into his arms and their lips had met in a long, passionate kiss. He had felt her capable hands stroke the curls at the back of his neck, and with a groan, he had pulled her closer, daringly allowing one hand to stray a little below her waist.

‘Timothy,’ she had whispered. ‘This is very improper!’

‘Not half as improper as some of the things that I would like to do with you,’ he had admitted frankly. ‘Dearest, I do not know how I am ever to wait until we are married.’

‘You will have to do so, I’m afraid,’ she had answered,
softening
her words by reaching up to kiss him again.

‘Perhaps I shall be led into temptation,’ he had suggested. ‘Miss Macclesfield would be all too pleased to do so, I suspect.’

‘Miss Macclesfield may do as she likes, just so long as you do not give her any encouragement.’

‘Why should I ever want to encourage her when I have you?’

They had exchanged a few more passionate kisses before returning to the daylight to join the others. Nobody would have guessed from the composed appearance that they had presented, what had passed in the dungeon between the schoolmistress and the vicar.

Thus it was that he was quite unmoved by Isobel’s preening and posturing. She would have been utterly astonished had she realized that the slightest turn of the head of plain little Miss
Tasker inflamed him far more than her most calculatedly
seductive
gesture.

‘Shall we return to the comforting sunlight?’ he asked Isobel. ‘It is very cold down here.’

‘Yes it is,’ she agreed. ‘Does it make you nervous, Mr Ames?’

‘Not at all,’ he replied, with more haste than truth as he scented danger.

‘Suppose you were to drop the candle,’ she suggested.

‘I must take care not to do so. Come, Miss Macclesfield.’

‘Oh, very well,’ she pouted. She looked sideways at him as they ascended into the warm sunlight. Quite clearly he was interested in her. He could not fail to be when she had made herself look so stunning. He was obviously exercising considerable restraint. His evident agitation told her that. She would have to work out how to make him discard it and behave towards her as she was convinced he wished to do. A hint of a rival ought to provoke his interest. It had worked before with other men.

Upon reaching the sunlight, therefore, Isobel immediately waved to Mr Hawkfield and Mr Laver, who were returning from looking at the moat. Her intention had been to stroll about with them under Mr Ames’s nose. At that very moment, however, she caught sight of Benjamin Twizzle signalling to her and her heart plummeted. In the excitement of the day, she had forgotten that he had said he would meet her here.

Unwelcome though the man was, however, it would do no harm to make use of him. ‘Oh, good gracious!’ she exclaimed, feigning surprise at seeing him. ‘As if I did not have enough of men following me around in London, only to experience it here as well.’

‘Would you like me to send the fellow about his business?’ Ames asked, straightening his cuffs. He knew Twizzle by
reputation
, and what he knew he did not like.

‘No, there is no need,’ Isobel answered airily, misreading this chivalrous suggestion as a sign of personal interest in her. ‘I shall
go and speak to him myself.’ Seeing him still looking doubtful, she added, ‘I shall scream if I need rescuing and you can then come gallantly to my aid.’

Mr Ames might have protested further, but seeing his betrothed sitting with Miss Wheatman, he made no further objection.

‘Well?’ said Twizzle, as soon as they were alone together in one of the ruined chambers of the castle. ‘Have you brought the money?’

‘This is not very gallant, sir,’ replied Isobel, dimpling at him, and twirling her parasol. ‘You have not even asked me how I do, or commented on my gown.’

Although Benjamin Twizzle’s very upright father would have said that his weaknesses were manifold, the young man himself would have admitted to two: the need to cut a dash, and a liking for beautiful women. Isobel’s undoubted beauty had attracted him from the first. Had he been challenged with being a
blackmailer
, he would vigorously have denied such an assertion. He was merely making the most of every opportunity. Life was to be enjoyed; and the purpose of those he met was to enable him to enjoy it, in every possible way. Flirtation was nothing if not enjoyable. This opportunity to extract money from the young lady with whom he was flirting merely added spice to the connection.

‘It’s dashed pretty,’ he replied admiringly. ‘Not nearly as pretty as the wearer, of course.’

‘Oh Mr Twizzle,’ answered Isobel, inwardly breathing a sigh of relief, for this was the kind of conversation that she understood.

‘You flatter me, I fear.’

‘Not at all,’ he responded, lolling against one of the rugged walls, then spoiling the negligent effect by straightening and
carefully
brushing the dust off his sleeve. There was more than a hint of the dandy about him, dressed as he was in tight yellow pantaloons, jockey boots with tassels, and a blue coat with shiny metal buttons. None of these items had yet been paid for, a fact
which made the acquisition of a sum of money all the more urgent.

‘What a splendid place this is,’ said Isobel, smiling at him, and half turning away. ‘Full of secluded corners for … private
conversations
.’

‘Exactly so,’ he responded eagerly, taking two steps towards her and laying his hands on her shoulders.

Isobel was not unused to desperate flirtations in dark corners with flirtatious young men. Mr Twizzle, as Lavinia had observed on the coach, was exactly the kind of young man who often appealed to her. Since this was what she had been angling for from the first, it was rather strange, therefore, that she found herself thinking that she really did not want Benjamin to kiss her. ‘Mr Twizzle! You are too hasty,’ she exclaimed. She was surprised to hear a note in her own voice that sounded very like panic.

‘Hasty?’ he echoed.

‘Why yes,’ she responded, recovering herself. ‘How many a good thing is spoiled through rushing.’

‘True enough,’ he agreed. ‘You’ll meet me again, then?’

‘Why not?’ she replied, smiling. ‘I must return before I am missed.’ She turned to go.

‘Before you do so,’ said Twizzle, who was not quite as besotted as Isobel would have liked, ‘Perhaps you could let me have my money.’

Quickly swallowing a cry of vexation, Isobel said, ‘Mr Twizzle! Is not my company enough for you?’

‘Your company is enchanting, but my purse is still empty,’ he replied.

‘Well … ten pounds, then,’ she said, opening her reticule. ‘Ten,’ she repeated when he seemed about to protest, ‘or not another meeting will I grant you.’

‘Very well; ten,’ he agreed. ‘But meet me again in three days’ time.’

‘In a week,’ she replied, pouting. ‘Three days is too soon.’

‘Three days in the wilderness garden at Thurlby Hall, or I shall come up to the house to see the earl.’

‘Cruel,’ answered Isobel pouting. ‘Three days, then.’

‘And bring the rest of the money.’

She hurried off laughing, but in truth she was beginning to feel quite frightened.

Lord Thurlby and Lavinia never did manage to get down into the dungeons. After they had come back down from the tower, they saw Miss Wheatman waving to them, and on drawing closer, they found Mr Ames crouching beside a distressed-looking Miss Tasker.

‘The silliest thing,’ she was saying, trying unsuccessfully to sound as if she was not in pain. ‘I had gone all the way down into the dungeons without the slightest mishap. Then we were just sitting here quietly when a great bumble bee came and landed on my aunt’s skirt.’

‘And I cannot bear them, you know,’ Miss Wheatman added. ‘So foolish of me!’

‘So I got up to chase it away, and before I had taken more than two or three steps, I caught my ankle in a hole.’

‘Allow me to examine it,’ said Lord Thurlby, bending down. ‘I have a little experience in these matters.’

‘It really isn’t important,’ said Miss Tasker weakly.

‘Yes it is,’ her fiancé retorted. ‘You nearly fainted.’

‘By your leave,’ said the earl, speaking as much to Mr Ames as to Miss Tasker.

Lavinia watched as Lord Thurlby crouched down and gently examined the schoolmistress’s ankle. How strong and capable his hands were, she thought. They were not the kind of beautiful hands that would be chosen by a sculptor for him to model; they were perhaps too strong and square for that; but they were deft and assured in their movements. They were just the kind of hands that she would choose to help her in an emergency, Lavinia
decided. Or to carry her if she were hurt, or even if she were not …

‘I don’t think it’s broken,’ he said, breaking into her reverie. ‘A cold compress would help. Do we have any water?’

There was still some water left over from the picnic, and Lavinia damped a napkin with it, whilst Miss Wheatman gently held it to Miss Tasker’s swollen ankle.

‘We must get you home as soon as possible, I think,’ said Miss Wheatman, in between making soothing noises.

‘Home?’ echoed the vicar. ‘That will not do at all. She will be alone in the schoolhouse!’

‘You are very right,’ Thurlby agreed. ‘She must come and stay at the Hall until she is better.’

‘But I could not possibly impose,’ Caroline protested.

‘It would be no imposition,’ the earl answered. ‘Ames is right. You cannot go home to look after yourself when you are unable to put a foot to the ground. However would you manage to make yourself a cup of tea, for instance?’

‘But—’ she began.

‘No more buts,’ interrupted the earl. ‘You may go home as soon as your ankle is strong enough. Believe me; it will get strong more quickly if you have proper care. Neglect it and it could be a trouble to you for months.’

Miss Tasker sighed. ‘Very well, my lord,’ she said eventually. ‘I agree, but only because I know that you are right.’

‘Sensible woman,’ smiled Thurlby. ‘I will go and ask the servants to prepare to leave.’ He turned to Ames. ‘Will you find the rest of our party and apprise them of the situation? We shall have to think how best to convey Miss Tasker home without jolting her ankle.’

In the event, Lord Thurlby opted to ride on the box of the barouche, leaving extra space so that Miss Tasker could sit across the seat with her feet cradled by Miss Wheatman, after she had been carried tenderly to the vehicle by Mr Ames.

Isobel allowed herself a small secret smile. The presence of Caroline Tasker in the house would mean that Timothy Ames would be honour bound to come and visit. But after he had paid his obligatory visit to his dull, plain little fiancé, she, Isobel would entice him to walk in the garden with her. Then, if she did not manage to get a kiss or two out of him, she was not the woman that she took herself to be!

Lord Thurlby sent one of the servants on ahead in order for arrangements to be made for Miss Tasker’s accommodation. As a consequence, when they arrived at Thurlby Hall, a room had been prepared by Mrs Bell, the housekeeper. Mr Ames lifted his fiancée down, and, following Mrs Bell, carried her upstairs. Caroline smiled bravely and made no complaint, but it was quite apparent to anyone who knew her that she was in some pain.