Amy (The Daughters of Allamont Hall Book 1) (3 page)

“As well as might be expected, Henry,” Lady Sara answered in her placid way. “I depend upon you to take care of me now, cousin, for I am quite alone.”

“Well, as to that, you may always turn to your father if you need help, Sara,” he said briskly. “Lord Harkwood never got along with William, but he has always held you in affection. And you have four brothers and two sisters who will be very glad to offer you whatever assistance you might need. Although it seems to me that you are rather well set up here. You have the income from the estate, after all, which must be substantial.”

She said nothing, turning her head away from him as if he had offended her.

He took the hint to change the subject. “Amy, I am happy to see you again. You are well, I trust? Not too distressed by this will, eh?”

She hardly knew how to answer that, so she addressed only the simpler question. “I am well, thank you, Cousin Henry.”

“Excellent! You must find it a strange business, this tying up of the dowries. I cannot imagine what my cousin meant by it.”

There was no answer possible, so Amy made none, clasping her hands together in her lap and casting her eyes downwards.

Cousin Henry turned back to Amy’s mother. “Forgive me, Sara, but I must speak bluntly. I do not at all like the odd way matters have been left. To set aside so much money for the girls and then hedge it about with conditions. And leaving the estate to whichever of the boys marries one of the girls. It was badly done of William, very badly done.”

This was a shocking suggestion to Amy, for surely Papa knew what he was about? It may have seemed a strange provision, but he must have had a good reason for it.

“You know what sort of man he was, Henry,” Lady Sara said mildly. “He liked everything just so.” There was a hesitation in her manner. “Henry, you must be disappointed that he chose not to leave the estate to
you
. Or the Shropshire house, perhaps. It would have been a help to you.”

“I should have liked something for Mary, at least,” he said. “Well, it is done and we must make the best of it.”

“You do not suppose, then, that we may over-set the terms of the will, if we take the matter to law?”

He thought for a moment. “I am not sure that you would be successful in such a suit. A judge may well consider that William was taking very good care of his family by these conditions. The girls must marry, after all, and it is customary for the elder to marry before the younger. It is an unusual provision, perhaps, but not especially detrimental to the girls, nor onerous, given the astonishing size of their dowries. I should warn you that James is champing at the bit to help one of the girls keep the Hall, so I fear you must bear a deal of his company. He and Mary will be here shortly, but I came ahead to talk to you privately first.”

She inclined her head graciously in acknowledgement. “That was thoughtful, but you need not be concerned. James is always welcome here. As indeed are all of you. I trust we will see you more frequently now.”

“That is my hope, also.” His tone softened as he spoke, a little smile playing on his lips.

“Perhaps if we are expecting additional company, we should go to the drawing room after all. Amy, dear, you will not mind your lesson being curtailed? For it is a kindness in our cousins to visit us in our grief.”

Amy followed as they moved towards the door side by side, her cousin remarking with astonishment that much had changed in the house since his last visit, and her mother teasingly pointing out that it was his own fault for staying away for so long.

And now Cousin Henry and Mama were smiling and laughing together like old friends, and agreeing to meet often, as if there had never been a breach between the two families. Papa was barely in his grave, and already his wishes were being set aside. It was shocking.

~~~~~

Far away in the very northernmost reaches of England, Mr Wilberforce Ambleside leapt from his chair in astonishment, barely able to comprehend the words he was reading. Having reached the very end of the letter, his eyes jumped to the top to begin again. Was it possible? But his eyesight was not failing yet, and Miss Endercott’s neat script was perfectly legible. There could be no mistaking the meaning. Mr Allamont was dead, and the consequence was…

“Herbert! Herbert, come in here at once!”

He strode across to the fireplace and gave the bell-pull a sharp tug, then another, and yet a third.

“Herbert! Where—? Ah, there you are at last.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Herbert, you must pack immediately. At once, I tell you!”

“Very good, sir. May I enquire…? What will you be requiring, sir? Town clothes or country? Any riding to be done? And how long a stay?”

“You must pack everything, everything! We are going back to Higher Brinford at last.”

“Indeed, sir. Then may I take it that… circumstances have changed?”

“Yes! Her father is dead, and may God have mercy on his soul. Yes, Herbert,
everything
has changed at last, and for the better. Oh, very much for the better.”

3: Mr Ambleside

Amy’s cousin, James Allamont, arrived shortly after his father, his face wreathed in smiles, as if he were paying a regular morning visit instead of comforting a recently bereaved widow and her daughters. He was a young man who made a good appearance in society. His looks were not above the average, but he showed himself off to advantage with the most fashionable clothes and fine horses. But his character was weak, and since leaving school he had given himself over entirely to a life of pleasure. His father’s reduced circumstances prevented him from disgracing himself in London or any of the fashionable towns, but within the county he was a notorious flirt, and happy to attend any social occasion which provided a meal and some pleasant company.

He was shown into the drawing room, where Lady Sara and all her daughters were now seated, embroidery in hand, feet correctly positioned, heads demurely lowered unless addressed. Bowing to an excessive degree, and enquiring briefly after Lady Sara’s health, James appeared to consider his duty done, and bounded across the room to claim a seat beside Amy.

“Well, this is a turnabout, eh, coz? We have always rubbed along famously, and it seems your papa noticed it, for why else would he push us together in such a way? Such fun we shall have when we are married, do you not agree?”

Amy had no patience with such absurdity. She never knew what to say to James when he talked such nonsense, but at least with family there was no need for false civility. “Really, cousin, you have never paid me any attention before this, and I wish you would not pretend otherwise.”

James merely smiled at her, and responded with some fulsome compliments on her dress.

She flushed, embarrassed. Compliments always threw her into such turmoil. Her mother accepted them so gracefully, with the slightest of smiles, but then she was an earl’s daughter, and a famous beauty, her dress always so elegant, that such remarks were no more than her due. Amy had no such advantages which could attract the least comment, so when a gentleman admired her appearance she knew it for a falsity. That put her quite out of temper.

“Stuff and nonsense, James!” she snapped. “Do not say such foolish things.”

He laughed and patted her hand. “There, now! I suppose your purpose is to encourage me to repeat myself, in even more extravagant terms. I know how you ladies love to hear a man express his admiration. So I will oblige you, dear cousin. You look quite charming, for black, you know, despite the melancholy reason for it, sets off your complexion to the greatest advantage.”

She flushed even more, too angry even to respond to such silliness. How he could imagine she would be gratified by such words when her papa was not long buried was beyond her. James laughed even more, not in the least discomfited by her disapproval, and appeared quite ready to continue in the same nonsensical vein.

Amy could not listen to any more of his outrageous overtures. Making the exertion to divert him away from the subject of herself, she enquired after his health with as much politeness as she could muster.

“Oh, I am well, as always, coz. Never better, never better. I have a splendid new hunter, too. Bought him from Sir Matthew. Expensive, but very showy, and that is the important thing, eh? Spirited chap, I have quite left Mary behind. Such a slowtop she is.”

“You set out with Mary? And left her behind? Really, James! I am glad you are not
my
brother. Your care for your sister leaves much to be desired.”

He laughed, not in the least shamefaced. “Mary will be fine. She knows your fields as well as her own, you know. I daresay she will be here at any moment.”

Indeed, a few minutes later the door opened and Mary was announced. The eldest of the cousins, she was a handsome woman, and sensible without excessive cleverness. She was received with pleasure by all the ladies, with whom she was a great favourite. She was a particular friend of Amy and Belle, between whom she now seated herself, chasing away her brother, who lost no time in making himself agreeable to Grace and Hope with a stream of little compliments. They blushed and scolded him roundly, and under cover of their conversation, Mary leaned forward to whisper confidentially to Amy.

“I am so happy for you. Your father has left you very handsomely provided for, and you will be settled in no time, I doubt not. That must be such a comfort at this time of sorrow.”

“I wish I could be so sanguine,” Amy said. “I have been out for seven years, Mary, without so much as a single offer. Is it likely I will now be surrounded by suitors?”

Mary hesitated. “Do you want my truthful opinion? I suspect your father frightened away a number of suitors. And although your dowry was much talked of, the amount was always uncertain. But now…”

“But who will want
me?
” Amy said. “Even with seventeen thousand pounds, I am no great catch. Yet I
must
marry, for the sake of my younger sisters. Grace has drawn up a list of possible beaux, but I cannot see myself married to any of them.”

“Not even the Marquess of Carrbridge?” Belle said, leaning across Mary to speak in a low voice.

Amy smiled. “Sister, if ever the Marquess of Carrbridge comes here and makes me an offer, you may be sure that I will accept him at once.”

When at length the visitors had all departed and the ladies dispersed to their usual employments, Amy returned to the silent book room. Standing before her father’s empty chair, hands clasped in front of her, she began her Greek recitation all over again.

~~~~~

Mr Ambleside wasted no time in returning to his home at Staynlaw House, startling the housekeeper with his abrupt arrival, and throwing the servants into a frenzy of activity, removing dust sheets, opening up rooms long unused, restocking the cellars and unpacking glass and china from storage. Never was a house cleaned and scrubbed and polished so swiftly.

Precedence required that he pay his first call on his return to the neighbourhood to the Dowager Countess of Humbleforth, and then Sir Matthew and Lady Graham. Mr Ambleside cared not a fig for precedence. Instead, directly after breakfast, he sent for his horse and set off at once for Allamont Hall.

The ladies received him with great surprise, for no word of his arrival had yet reached them. He greeted each of them in turn, according to age, offering his condolences. With six daughters in the family this might have been awkward, but with the Allamont ladies there was no difficulty. The chairs were arranged in a precise circle, and the ladies arranged with equal exactness, Lady Sara facing the door, and the young ladies in sequence in order of age. So Mr Ambleside was able to begin with Lady Sara, proceed to Miss Allamont next to her, and thus round the circle.

However, the ladies were not alone. Miss Endercott, whose brother held the living of Lower Brinford, and Mr Burford, the curate, were already seated in the morning room. Miss Endercott was one of those spinsters who said little and did less, who went nowhere and sat quietly in a corner during social engagements, yet managed to know everything that went on. If there was an attachment forming, or a new baby expected, if a servant had misbehaved or a young man had lost money at the gaming tables, Miss Endercott would know all.

Mr Burford was less interesting. He was neither handsome nor rich, and had no great skill in the art of conversation. Moreover, he was in love, a state which is liable to render the most articulate man speechless. Since the moment he had first set eyes on Miss Hope Allamont, his heart had been lost. Now he gazed adoringly at the object of his affections, his face as red as his hair, while she blushed and simpered and threw quick, secretive glances at him. He hardly noticed Mr Ambleside enter the room and make his way round the circle.

So it was Miss Endercott who exclaimed in her gruff tones, “Gracious, Mr Ambleside, I am all astonishment. We do not see you for two years, yet you walk in as coolly as if you had never been gone!”

He had to smile at her effrontery. Miss Endercott was the cool one, for it was she who had alerted him to the recent change in circumstances at Allamont Hall.

“Mr Ambleside is among friends,” Lady Sara said serenely. “He need not stand on ceremony with us. Pray be seated, sir.”

She waved him to the only remaining seat, between Hope and Miss Endercott. He was about to take it, for from such a position he could enjoy looking at the object of his visit, even if he had not the pleasure of conversation with her, when one of the Miss Allamonts — was it Grace? — called across the circle.

“Belle, I am in difficulty with my thread. Your hands are steadier than mine. I should be obliged if you would lend me your assistance.”

Belle at once jumped up and moved across to her sister, leaving her chair vacant. Mr Ambleside needed no greater opening. With alacrity, he took the free seat, smiling at the sister on his right — what was her name? Clara? Clarissa? Cora? — before turning, as precedence required, to Miss Allamont. She gazed at him nervously, as if unsure what he might do, but he knew how to set her at her ease.

“I cannot describe my astonishment,” he said, almost before he had taken his seat, “to hear of the most untimely demise of your father. I should have thought him the very last man in the world to succumb to violent illness, for he enjoyed the most vigorous health. How could such a thing happen?”

Miss Allamont’s face assumed a solemn expression. “Indeed, it was most unexpected,” she said, in low tones. “Papa had gone out for his Sunday walk, for he always wished to reflect upon Mr Endercott’s sermon before dinner. The Endercotts and Mr Burford always dine with us on a Sunday, and Papa liked to discuss theological points with them. The weather was most inclement, but Papa would not be deterred by such a trivial matter. However, he unfortunately took a severe chill, which settled on his chest and within a sennight he fell into a fever from which he never recovered.”

Her voice wavered as she spoke, and Mr Ambleside was stricken with guilt. “I must apologise, Miss Allamont, for raising these most distressing thoughts. I wished only to…   you will forgive me, I trust. I did not know the nature of Mr Allamont’s illness. But I am relieved — very much relieved — to find that
you
are in good health. All of you,” he added hastily.

Amy smiled wanly, her eyes demurely lowered, but made no reply.

Miss Endercott stepped into the breach, her deep voice booming across the room. “I hope you mean to make a long residence, now that you are returned to the neighbourhood, Mr Ambleside.”

“That is certainly my intention,” he replied. “Now that I am home, I daresay I shall not stray far again. I have seen much to please the eye in my wanderings, but nothing compares with my own neighbourhood, and the great beauty to be seen therein.”

Miss Allamont lifted her eyes to him, her composure recovered. “Ah, you have been in Northumberland lately, have you not? Did you enjoy your stay there?”

He turned to her with a smile. “Yes, indeed. When blessed with sunshine, it is a beautiful, wild country. One might walk all day without seeing a living soul.”

“Oh, that does sound very wild. I am not sure I should like to be so far from civilisation.”

“I can assure you, Miss Allamont, that one would have to have a heart turned entirely to stone to be unmoved by such great beauty, quite unspoilt as it is. If you could see it, I am certain you would delight in it, just as I did.”

“When blessed with sunshine,” Amy pointed out.

That made him laugh. “Which, regrettably, it seldom is. I confess, I have rarely seen such endless rain.”

She smiled at him, then blushed and lowered her eyes. In a different sort of female, he might have thought it coquettish and calculating, but in Miss Allamont he knew it to be mere awkwardness. Not every man would find such timidity alluring, but to him it was enchanting. So many young ladies pretended to be demure, but here was one who did not even know how to pretend.

“Have you never been to the North, Miss Allamont?”

“No, never, sir. I was never outside the county, except for a month in London once.” She answered readily, but her cheeks were still suffused with a flush.

“Do you not wish to travel?”

“Oh, I am sure it must be most interesting, but Papa would never leave home. He thought it too unsettling and awkward a business. It is much better to stay on familiar ground, he always said.”

There was no possible answer to that which would not reflect badly on either Mr Allamont or Mr Ambleside himself, so he gave it up. While he cast about for some safer topic of conversation, Grace leaned forward from the opposite side of the circle and said loudly, “Do you not think Amy is looking particularly well, Mr Ambleside?”

He was tempted to smile at such a provocative remark. He understood her, however. She was determined to push him into Amy’s way. He had not the least objection to that, but he knew better than to rise to her bait.

So he answered her gravely, choosing to misunderstand her meaning. “Indeed, and I am glad of it. But I believe Miss Allamont has always enjoyed excellent health, apart from the influenza four years ago.”

“Really, Grace!” Lady Sara said, breaking away from her conversation with Miss Endercott. “What are you about to be saying such things? You must forgive her forwardness, Mr Ambleside. She has not been much in company as yet, and without the benefit of a London season, she has not achieved the refinement of manners that I or her papa would have wished.”