Abbeyford Inheritance (16 page)

Their arrival at Lynwood Hall caused little stir. Lady Lynwood, who had seen no reason to remain in London during Adelina's necessary absence from Society, had returned earlier to her country home. Now, as she greeted Adelina, she seemed amused by the situation. Her laughter cackled readily. “Well, miss, you didn't manage to lead him to the altar, then? Hmm – I'm surprised. I thought he loved you.” Her sharp eyes scanned Adelina's face. “And you him.”

Adelina remained silent.

“Have you had news of your relatives while you've been in London?” Lady Lynwood asked suddenly.

“Only – only about Emily.”

“Martha Langley has been very ill. Just after Emily's death. She is partially paralysed. Her husband's at his wit's end to know how to cope with her.” Her beady eyes looked straight at Adelina. “ Shall you go and see them?”

Adelina shrugged. “ I doubt if I'd be welcomed.”

“I think in their present pitiable state, they'd welcome the Devil himself, if he offered help.”

“Well,” Adelina hesitated. “ I'll have to think about it.”

Two days later, however, when her small daughter had recovered from the harassing journey and was once again a happy, gurgling infant, Adelina, driving herself and dressed warmly, took the gig from Lord Lynwood's stables and set out towards Abbeyford.

It was early January 1818, and her heart lifted as she drove along the narrow lanes. She found the frosty, country air invigorating after city life. As she drove through Amberly, Adelina scarcely glanced at the villagers, remembering their previous hostility. Children scuttled out of the way of her horse's flying hooves and mothers scooped up their toddlers to safety. Just as she left the village she passed by a small cottage set a little apart from the other dwellings and standing some distance back from the road. A barefoot toddler, with a dirty face, bright red curls and a ragged shirt, tottered down the path, and briefly she saw a man emerging from the cottage doorway. She was past so quickly and he was some way from her that she could not really recognise him, yet there was something vaguely familiar about the stocky build and broad shoulders. But she knew no one in Amberly, she told herself. For some inexplicable reason the sight of the shadowy figure had awakened in her a feeling of unease. Then she whipped up the horse towards Abbeyford and forgot all about the man and his red-haired child.

As she emerged from the trees she pulled on the reins and drew the horse to a halt. She sat for a moment, drinking in the scene before her. Immediately below her was Abbeyford Manor, then farther down the valley she followed the twisting lane with her eyes, catching sight of the ford and the, tiny footbridge and then the village itself with the church in its midst and, close by, the Vicarage and, far beyond on the opposite hill, was Abbeyford Grange where her grandfather lived in self-imposed loneliness. To her right were the abbey ruins and all around lay the farmlands belonging to Lord Royston.

Adelina slapped the reins and her horse trotted on obediently. She took the narrow lane towards Abbeyford village and was soon turning in the Vicarage gates.

The story Lady Lynwood had told Adelina about Mrs Langley proved to be true. She was in a pitiable state and Mr Langley was thin and ill with worry and the burden of caring for his truculent wife.

The door was opened to Adelina by the maid and when she was shown into the Vicar's study, Adelina gasped to see the change in him. His hair was now completely snow-white but ruffled and unkempt. He had always stooped slightly, but now his shoulders were hunched more than ever. His face was gaunt and his eyes ringed with dark shadows from lack of sleep. His yellowy skin was loose and pouchy as if he had suddenly lost weight. His clothes, hanging untidily on him, were blotched with stains.

His eyes widened as he realised who his visitor was. “Adelina my dear. How glad I am to see you.” The tears welled in his eyes, and Adelina was moved to bend and kiss his forehead. As she followed the Vicar's shambling steps into the drawing-room, Adelina noticed the thick film of dust everywhere.

She stepped into the room. Sitting in a chair near the fire was Mrs Langley – a mere shadow of the formidable woman Adelina remembered. She seemed shrunken and wasted away. Her hands, lying uselessly in her lap, twitched from time to time. She breathed noisily through her mouth, which hung open. Her eyes turned towards Adelina and there was a flash of recognition in them. There was bitterness and venom in her eyes, but, though she worked her mouth, Martha Langley could no longer give vent to her feelings with her tongue.

For all her dislike of this woman, Adelina felt sorry for her. She sat down opposite her and forced herself to smile at Mrs Langley.

“She knows you, Adelina, and she understands what we say to her. Her comprehension is quite unimpaired,” Mr Langley explained. “It's purely – physical.”

Adelina nodded. “ I'm truly sorry to see you like this, ma'am, believe me.”

Mrs Langley gave a loud sniff and Adelina almost laughed aloud. She hadn't forgotten how to give that famous sniff which in itself could speak volumes!

Swiftly, Adelina made up her mind. “Mrs Langley – you need help, don't you? And I need somewhere to stay – just for a few weeks.”

Mrs Langley made some weird noises and her head rocked from side to side.

“No – no, I know you don't like me – never have, and I know what you must think of me now. But for once you're going to have to forget your pride for your husband's sake. Just look at him. He'll be ill next if he goes on much longer the way he is.”

Mrs Langley's eyes swivelled to look at him, then, giving a peculiar sort of strangulated groan, she closed her eyes and rocked her whole being to and fro.

“That's settled then,” Adelina said, standing up. “We'll be moving in within the next few days.”

“We?” Mr Langley questioned.

“Er – yes. Myself, my maid and – er – the baby.”

“Baby!” He was obviously startled, and Mrs Langley began to make a gurgling noise, which Adelina ignored.

“Yes,” she said, as casually as she could manage. “Didn't you know I have a baby daughter. She's three months old.”

“Adelina!” There was a world of sadness and disappointment in his tone. “Oh, Adelina – how could you?”

He paused and then said slowly, as if battling with himself. “Well – I don't know what to say about that, I'm sure. I mean …”

“Look, you need help – desperately. And now poor Emily's gone …” She saw him flinch at the mention of his daughter, but Adelina continued with a little of the ruthlessness that had been her mother's nature. “There's only me left to come and help out a while. Now don't let pride stand in your way. By the look of both of you, you could sure use a little help right now.”

She paused while he appeared to be struggling with his conscience. Quietly, she said, “I really don't think you have any choice, have you?” He sighed. “I suppose not.”

Within a few days Adelina had packed her trunks once more and taken leave of Lynwood Hall.

“So,” Lady Lynwood had remarked drily, “you're going to play nursemaid for a while, are you, miss?” She laughed. “ You'll soon tire of that I don't doubt and be back knocking on our door.”

“No,” Adelina said quietly with infinite sadness. “ I can never ask another favour of Lord Lynwood.”

“Really?” The old lady raised her eyebrows sceptically. “ Mmm – well, we'll see.”

“If I have to leave Abbeyford again, I shall go back to America.”

Lady Lynwood showed surprise at Adelina's remark. Adelina turned her clear green eyes upon the old lady, whom she had come to regard with affection. “ There's only one thing I want now other than …” she stopped, unable to speak Lynwood's name. “Only one thing – to meet my grandfather. If – if that is not possible, then – then there is nothing else I can do.”

“Don't waste your life waiting for a stupid old man to overcome his hurt pride – or for that matter,” she added, referring to her own son, “a stupid
young
one!”

Surprisingly, Adelina's way of life back at the Vicarage bore little resemblance to the previous time. Mr Langley, worn out by the unaccustomed domestic burden, was only too thankful to relinquish the reins to Adelina, who soon had the servants performing their duties properly instead of idly taking advantage of the elderly, mild-tempered Vicar. Mrs Langley was completely helpless physically, nor could she voice her disapproval. Only her eyes showed the resentment she still felt towards Adelina.

“It won't be for long,” Adelina comforted herself.

When the house had been restored to some sort of order and Mr Langley sufficiently recovered to take up his parish duties once more, and Francesca had settled to a routine and began to thrive in the country air, Adelina decided it was time she visited Abbeyford Grange.

One particularly warm and spring-like day in early March Adelina left the Vicarage and the village and took the footpath through the open fields until she came to the small footbridge crossing the stream. She stood on the bridge, her hand resting on the rail and looked up at Abbeyford Grange. Her heart began to beat faster as she walked up the slope towards the high wall surrounding the house and garden. Reaching the wall she found a door and, twisting the heavy ring, she pushed it open and stepped into the sunken garden. Her gaze was drawn to the house – the house which had been her mother's home. It looked empty, deserted almost, although she knew Lord Royston still lived here, no doubt with several servants. But the house had a desolate air, an atmosphere of decay and neglect.

Without realising she had moved, she found herself in a square in the centre of the rose garden and when a voice spoke close by, Adelina jumped violently.

“No need to ask who
you
are.”

Adelina turned to see an old man sitting on a garden seat, a rug wrapped warmly over his knees. His face was wrinkled and his bushy white eyebrows almost met in the centre of his forehead as he frowned. His head was bald, except for a white tuft of hair over each ear. His hand held a walking-stick, the gnarled knuckles showing white as he gripped the stick and from time to time he struck the ground with it.

This was Lord Royston – her grandfather!

“No tongue in your head?” he growled, as Adelina continued to stare at him. His reprimand made her hold her head higher – proud and defiant.

“Goodday, my lord.”

“Oh, sit down, sit down, now you're here,” he said irritably.

Obediently, she sat beside him on the seat, half turned towards him.

“Well – am I what you expected?” The eyebrows rose and fell.

Adelina laughed. “Not really.”

“Hmm,” he grunted.

“How do you know who I am?” she asked.

“Because you're the image of your mother,” he muttered and thumped his stick on the ground.

“Oh – I'm sorry.”

“Sorry? Why be sorry? She was a lovely girl – a lovely girl.”

“I'm sorry because I must bring back painful memories for you.”

“Why did she do it? Why – why?” Again the stick thumped the ground as he voiced aloud the question which had haunted him for over twenty years.

“I can't remember things clearly because I was only nine when she died.”

“So long ago and I didn't even know she was dead until you first came to Abbeyford,” the old man murmured and he seemed to shrink a little more.

“But I can recall little things,” Adelina went on. “I can remember the happiness in our house when I was little, the warmth and the love. I believe she and my father were devoted to each other.”

“Was he good to her?”

“Yes – yes, I think he was. After she died – he – well – he ceased to care, even for me. He took to drinking and gambling. He lost his job, we lost our home. Not immediately, of course, but over the years we lost everything until we had to move from the plantation in South Carolina to New York, to the poorest, roughest neighbourhood.” Why, she thought, am I blurting all this out within moments of meeting him?

“You say your father ceased to care for you. Did – did he ill-treat you?”

“No,” Adelina shrugged and smiled sadly, remembering. “But the roles were reversed. I looked after him. I became the strong one. I had to be, to survive. That's why I'm so sure he loved my mother. When she died, he just stopped living too.”

There was silence between them while the embittered old man struggled to understand. At last he sighed. “Ah, well, I suppose none of it is your fault anyway. Perhaps I was not entirely blameless. I was trying to arrange a marriage for her to a man she obviously did not love. That locket round your neck …?” he asked suddenly.

“It was my mother's – she always wore it and I have worn it ever since I was – given it.”

“Open it,” he commanded. As she did so, he leant forward to look at the two tiny likenesses enclosed within. Slowly, he nodded. “Yes – that's the locket I gave her on the very same day she ran away. And she wore it all the time?”

Adelina nodded. “ Yes. She loved you dearly, but she loved my father too and couldn't bear to spend her life without him, even though he wasn't your choice. I'm sure she didn't mean to hurt you so. I think she really thought that, once they were married and I was born, you would forgive them.”

“It seems – I left it too late. But I could,” the old man added with surprising briskness, “ make it up to you. Would you care to come up to the house?”

Adelina's lips parted as she drew breath sharply and her green eyes shone with happiness. Then her delight faded.

“Grandfather – there's something you should know. I – I have a child.”

“So – I have a great-grandchild, have I?” The old man began to smile.

“But,” she blurted out. “ I'm not married. My child is – illegitimate.”