Abbeyford Inheritance (6 page)

“It's unusual for them to come to our church, isn't it, Wallis? The Dowager Countess is wonderful, though I must admit to being a little afraid of her. They say she was a great beauty in her day and had all the gentlemen falling at her – her feet!” There was a catch in her voice as if the longing to be beautiful herself was too much to bear.

As they reached the Vicarage gate, Wallis said, “ I shall expect you at the Manor at three tomorrow afternoon, Emily. I shall take Adelina riding. You may come with us, if you wish,” his tone was uninviting, “or stay and talk to my mother. She's always glad to see you.”

“Yes, Wallis,” Emily said meekly.

He gave a small bow. “ I'll say ‘goodnight', then.” And he was gone.

Three o'clock the following afternoon found the two girls walking up the lane towards Abbeyford Manor. Adelina was dressed in a riding-habit borrowed from the tight-lipped Martha Langley, who would have liked to have refused but dare not, since it was Wallis Trent who had issued the invitation. The habit must be twenty years old, Adelina thought, and it was far too tight for her figure, but at least it was a riding-habit. Emily walked beside her in silence. They crossed the wooden footbridge near the ford and took the left-hand fork in the lane towards the Manor. Emily led the way through a small gate from the lane directly into the stableyard so that they did not go near the front of the house.

Suddenly, Emily stopped, her eyes widening and her cheeks blushing furiously. “ Oh dear!” she whispered.

“What is it?” Adelina, who had walked a few paces ahead, stopped too and turned to look back at Emily. Then she followed the line of Emily's wide-eyed gaze and saw a man walking the distance of the hundred yards or so from the house to the stable and slapping his riding-boots with his whip as he walked. Adelina's eyes narrowed as she took in his appearance, and at Emily's whisper, “It's Squire Trent – Wallis's father!” Adelina watched him with interest. He was rather small for a man, but stocky and powerfully built. His head was bare and showed a fine head of hair, still red though slightly greying at the temples.

Squire Trent, Adelina noticed, still wore breeches and top-boots, though these were now no longer worn by the younger men of fashion. His blue eyes were dull and bloodshot, his teeth, yellow and broken.

As he saw the two girls, he stopped and blinked as if he thought they were some drink-induced mirage.

“My God!” he muttered under his breath. “Royston's daughter!” He blinked again and shook his head slightly as if trying to clear his muddled thoughts. “No, no, it can't be! That was years ago.” He put his hand to his head. “Who the devil
are
you?”

“I'm Adelina Cole. Lord Royston's
grand
daughter.”

He nodded slowly as realisation dawned upon him. “There's no mistaking that. Dear God, but you're the image of her! It's as if … God, how you bring back the memories!”

Guy Trent, wavering a little unsteadily on his feet, gazed at Adelina's face, drinking in her loveliness and her youth. And as he did so the wasted years seemed to roll away and he could almost believe himself to be once more the virile, attractive, impulsive young man he had once been.

“Oh, there's Wallis,” Emily cried, relief evident in her tone, and Adelina looked up to see Wallis striding across the stableyard towards them, an angry frown upon his face.

Squire Trent gave a grunt, winked broadly, though a little tipsily, at Adelina. “ I'd better be on my way if my sobersides son is about to descend upon us.” He sighed dramatically. “He always seems to spoil my fun.” His voice dropped to a whisper and he leant closer to Adelina, his breath hot and evil-smelling upon her face. “I do hope we meet again, Miss Cole.” With that he turned and walked unsteadily away towards a stable-lad holding a horse by its bridle. He waved his hand to his son. “ Just going, my boy, just going.”

A moment later, Squire Trent rode out of the yard, looking none too safe on his mount, waving wildly to Adelina.

Why, she thought, he's afraid of his own son, and she felt a flash of pity for the drink-sodden, unhappy man who lived on his memories.

“Good afternoon, Miss Adelina – Emily,” Wallis greeted them.

“I will – go and see your mother, Wallis, if – that is convenient?”

“Of course, my dear,” Wallis smiled slightly. “You'll find her on the terrace.”

“G-goodbye then, Adelina. Enjoy your ride.” She turned away swiftly as if to hide the tears.

The stable-boy was leading a horse. forward to the mounting block.

“Ah, here is Stardust for you to ride, Adelina.”

Now that the moment had arrived, Adelina regretted her bravado. She moved towards the horse, biting her lip and trying to remember what she should do. But she need not have feared, for as soon as she stood upon the mounting block and felt the smooth leather of the saddle beneath her fingers and touched the horse's neck, the knowledge she must have learned in childhood came flooding back instinctively. She mounted quite easily and held the reins. It surprised Adelina herself to find that she knew exactly what to do without hesitation. For a moment the longing for the lost years of her childhood with both her mother and father, the happier years, threatened to engulf her. Then she saw Wallis mounting a magnificent animal, a wild-eyed stallion, his shining coat jet black.

“This is Jupiter,” Wallis called to her. “Do you like him?”

“He's superb.”

Wallis patted the horse's neck, his action showing his pride in the possession of such an animal. “ Come, let us begin our ride.”

They left the stableyard and trotted up the lane to the wood. Winding through the trees they came to the open fields on top of the hill. Wallis urged his horse to a steady canter and, feeling more confident now, Adelina did the same. They rode towards the abbey ruins, and when they came within the shadow of the crumbling walls they reined in.

Adelina looked up at the decaying building with interest. “It's a lonely place,” she said and shuddered.

Wallis frowned. “The villagers fear the place – some stupid superstition which I think has been put about by those who wish to use it for their own purposes.”

“Whatever could you use a place like this for?”

Wallis smiled a little. “A trysting place, perhaps, for lovers to meet in secret.”

Adelina's eyes were drawn once more to the cold stones. Perhaps her mother and father had met in this very place all those years ago.

Suddenly there was a movement and the figure of a man appeared on one of the walls. He stood, his legs wide apart, his arms akimbo, looking down at them. The horses shied a little at the man's sudden appearance.

“What the devil are you doing here?” Wallis Trent shouted angrily. “Why aren't you working?”

“Oh, I'm working, Mr Trent, I'm working.” His tone was insolent. “One of the sheep strayed. I'm looking for her.”

Wallis snorted disbelievingly. “ Well, be about your work, then.”

The man made no move to obey, bitterness and hatred in his blue eyes as he looked down at Wallis Trent. He was stockily built, with broad shoulders and slim waist and hips. He wore a loose shirt, open to the waist and with the sleeves rolled up above his elbows, showing his tanned, muscular arms. Around his neck was knotted a red spotted neckcloth. He wore breeches with leather leggings buttoned on the outside of each leg from ankle to above his knee, and heavy boots. He had a shock of red hair and white, even teeth.

Adelina frowned slightly. He seemed to remind her vaguely of someone …

Wallis was speaking again. “I said be about …”

The man sprang from the wall and leapt the small distance between himself and Wallis's horse. Jupiter reared, but the young man, showing no fear, caught hold of the bridle.

“Mr Trent –
sir
…” Instead of being a polite salutation, his tone was a sarcastic insult.

“Let go my horse,” Wallis Trent hissed between clenched teeth.

“When are you going to repair my mother's cottage, to say nothing of all the other cottages in the village? You treat your animals better than your workmen!”

“
Leave hold my horse
,” Wallis said with dangerous emphasis on every word.

The young man held on, his face turned up towards Wallis. “When you've answered my question –
sir
!”

Adelina saw Wallis raise his riding-crop, and a small scream escaped her lips as he brought it down with a single vicious stroke across the man's face. The man winced and turned his face away but, to her surprise, Adelina saw that he still held the bridle fast in his hand.

“Aye, you'd like to kill me, wouldn't you?” his voice was low and menacing and then he added but one more word, putting into it every ounce of the hatred that was in his heart. “Wouldn't you,
brother
?”

Then he let go of the horse, turned and walked away but not before Adelina had seen the purple weal made by Wallis's whip swelling on his cheek. She stared after him and as she did so the thought came to her that he was the first person she had met in Abbeyford who had no fear of Wallis Trent.

“Come,” Wallis was saying, breathing heavily with ill-concealed anger. “ We must return home.”

“Who – was that?”

There was a pause before Wallis replied. “Evan Smithson. One of my employees, who seeks to rise above his station.” Then he urged his horse ahead as if to prevent Adelina asking further, unwelcome questions.

“Emily, who is Evan Smithson? Is he Sarah Smithson's son?”

“Oh, Adelina,” Emily said, her eyes wide with fear. “You shouldn't be here. Mama will be angry. Go back to bed.”

After she had undressed in her own room that night, Adelina had quietly unlatched her door, listened a moment to be sure there were no sounds coming from the lower rooms, and had crept along the landing to Emily's room.

Now she perched herself on the end of Emily's bed. “Not until you've answered my questions,” she whispered.

Emily sighed. “ Oh very well. Yes – he's Sarah Smithson's son.”

“We met him this afternoon – up near the abbey ruins. Emily – he – he seems to hate Wallis? Why should that be?”

“I suppose he thinks he has good reason. He's – he's Squire Guy Trent's illegitimate son.”

Adelina gasped. “Of course! The likeness is there. Why ever didn't I see it? But – surely, he's about the same age as Wallis, isn't he?”

Emily nodded. “A year older, actually. Years ago, Guy Trent was as handsome and – and attractive as Evan is now. As you've seen, though, he drinks now and – and gambles …”

“But what about Evan? I mean – how …?”

“As a young man Guy was wild and irresistible. They say no girl was safe! He fell in love with a village girl – Sarah Miller. She – she had his child, but neither her family nor his would let them marry.”

“What happened?”

“The Miller family arranged for Sarah to marry a distant cousin, Henry Smithson. But their life together has not been happy. Henry Smithson bears a grudge, and so now does Evan, against the Trent family.”

“Yes,” Adelina said slowly. “ Yes, I guess they do. And what about Guy Trent?”

“He married Louisa Marchant, the daughter of a wealthy clothing manufacturer from Manchester way, according to
his
parents'wishes. You saw her in church.”

“She didn't look exactly happy either,” Adelina remarked. “But Wallis is their son, I take it?”

Emily nodded and seemed about to say more, but at that moment they both heard the stairs creak and Mrs Langley's familiar sniff.

“Oh Adelina,” Emily whispered frantically. “We're caught. She always comes in here when she comes to bed.”

“Hush,” Adelina swung her feet to the floor. “Lie down, Emily, and pretend to be asleep.” So saying Adelina lay on the floor and rolled under the bed. The coverlet fell down at the side to hide her completely. The latch lifted on the door and Mrs Langley whispered softly, “ Emily?” But when, after a moment, there was no reply from her daughter except her steady breathing, Mrs Langley closed the door again. When she heard the other bedroom door close too, Adelina rolled out from beneath the bed, stifling her helpless laughter. She scrambled to her feet and not trusting herself to speak to Emily, for she knew she would laugh aloud, Adelina escaped back to her own room. She jumped into bed and pulled the covers over her head as her merriment shook her.

Adelina surmised that perhaps Wallis Trent, who seemed to wield such power in Abbeyford valley, since neither Lord Royston nor his own father took much interest in the estate, might succeed where Lord Lynwood had failed.

She made up her mind that she would ask him to approach Lord Royston on her behalf.

“One last try,” Adelina told herself as she mounted Stardust in the stableyard at the Manor, “and if that doesn't work, I'll leave Abbeyford!”

A busy harvest-time had kept Wallis away from the Vicarage for some time, but he had left word that Miss Adelina was to be allowed to ride Stardust whenever she wished. Taking advantage of his offer, Adelina slipped away from the Vicarage one afternoon and went in search of Wallis Trent.

She turned in the direction of the abbey, thinking that from such a vantage-point she would be able to see the workmen in the fields and perhaps see Wallis. As she drew near the ruins she could see plainly the gaunt walls, half gone, rising up grotesquely against the grey sky. It was a stark and lonely place and yet it fascinated Adelina, for she believed that perhaps her mother and father had met here when their love had to be kept a secret. She was surprised to see how much of the building was still standing as she walked into the ruins. Within the outer shell there were numerous other walls, in various stages of collapse. There was a large, oblong-shaped room which had perhaps been the refectory, narrow passages, smaller rooms which might have served as kitchens, then tiny cell-like rooms which must have been the monks' sleeping cells. One of these – the only one – still had its roof so that, inside the tiny square room, it was almost as it must have been before the abbey had been destroyed. Adelina stepped inside. The stone floor was remarkably clean – almost as if someone had swept it. The tiny slit of a window let in little light so that the cold stone room was dark and dismal and eerie. Adelina shuddered. Fancy spending one's entire life walled up in a tiny cell like this! She tried to look out of the narrow window, but it was too high.