Coming Home (24 page)

H
E ARRIVED AT Heather Hill as dusk settled. Bath was as busy as an anthill and he'd had to weave his way through an endless procession of doddering old carriages carrying doddering old people doddering home from taking the waters. Then he'd had to bypass Royal Crescent altogether and had driven around the park instead, which was a shame. The new, unfinished curves of golden sandstone buildings were one of the things he had reminisced about as he trudged over the bloodied snow through the pass at Corunna, and waited, battle ready, heart pounding, on the heights above Fuentes de Onoro. But he would see the finished crescent another day. Perhaps he would bring Juliana to see the Sydney Gardens.

The pair of Trewbridge blacks would be pleased to rest overnight in his father's stables. Heather Hill boasted the finest stables in the south of England. At least, he hoped that was still the case. He slowed the horses to take the curve around to the back of the house.

He was in two minds about staying here. He no longer saw it as home, but neither did he hold the bitter animosity towards his family that he had carried until only last week. Oh, he did not find it easy to forgive his parents, but he did not intend to let their machinations rule his life from now on. Neither did he look forward to meeting William, but he very much wanted to see how Felicia fared.

He jumped down and flexed his fingers, then looped the reins over the holding post. Carefully he stretched out his injured leg. Cramp was setting in and he massaged the thigh as Dr Barreiro had taught him to do.

‘Well, I never!' exclaimed a voice behind him.

He spun around. ‘Mersey!' Tom Mersey and he had played together in the stableyard two decades ago.

Tom grinned. ‘I come runnin' when I heard the carriage, but you're the last person I expected to see.'

Colly shoved his hand out. ‘Tom, you're a sight for sore eyes. I presume you're head groom here now?'

Tom shook his head. ‘Nah. Yer brother imported some fancy Irish groom from Dungarvan last year so I'm just one of the under-grooms now.' He changed the subject. ‘I can't tell you how glad I am to see you, sir!'

‘But Tom—' Colly stopped. The cheerful mask pasted on the craggy face belied the misery in Tom's shrewd eyes. Colly didn't ask any more questions.

‘I'll come out later and blow a cloud with you,' he promised. ‘And when I'm well settled at Trewbridge I'll find you a more conducive position – that is, if you want it. Would you leave Heather Hill?'

‘Oh, I'd leave Heather Hill all right,' Tom said. ‘Working at the best stud in the south of England might sound fine, but I've had enough o' this place. I'd be right glad to leave.' Then he collected himself. ‘That is … do you mean it, sir? Could you find another position for me?'

‘Certainly. Just give me a couple of weeks and I'll contact you.'

Tom's face lit up like a beacon. ‘Bless you.'

‘In the meantime, Tom, we'd best get this pair rubbed down.'

‘Lovely high steppers,' Tom commented, running his hand down a glossy flank. ‘Are they yours, sir?'

‘No such luck. They belong to the estate where I work as steward. Trewbridge,' he explained when he saw Tom's curious look.

‘
Really
, sir?' Tom flicked a glance at the insignia emblazoned on the carriage door. ‘Don't hear much about it, but what I do know is good. Was it Trewbridge you were thinking of, to find me a position, I mean?'

‘One of the Trewbridge estates, anyway,' Colly told him.

‘Strewth! How many have they got?'

There was the scrunch of feet on gravel and they both turned.

William Hetherington stood, arms akimbo, framed in the centre of the archway like a painting. He glowered at Tom.

Colly nodded and made no attempt to approach his brother. ‘William,' was all he said. As far as he was concerned, his brother was a gutless cheat. He did not intend to bother with him. Mild civility would have to paper over the cracks of familial duty.

But William surged forward with his hand held out. ‘Good Lord, Colly! You've grown even taller!' His jocular tone rang false. Colly extended his hand and brushed William's fingers, but William was having none of that. He tried to pull Colly towards him but Colly stood rigidly still and favoured William with a grim smile.

William tried again. ‘God, I've missed you!' he exclaimed.

‘Why?' Colly flashed back. ‘Running out of people to blame for your misdeeds?'

Tom Mersey choked and disguised his bark of laughter by crooning to the horses in a sing-song voice.

William's face purpled. ‘If all you've come to do is rake over old scores, then damn you! I can't be bothered trying to make amends.' And off he stomped towards the house.

Colly knew that William would have had no idea how Colly's life had changed after he was thrown out of Heather Hill. William wouldn't have given a thought to the shame Colly had borne amongst his own set of friends, and the fear of having nobody to turn to and nowhere to go. William's hand was smooth and white; his mouth softly petulant. No. He had remained here, coddled and safe, whilst Colly had been biting down his blazing anger at the injustice done him in a country far away from everything he knew. William would neither know nor care about Colly's struggles to carve out a life for himself. As for fighting the French far away in Portugal and Spain, William couldn't even begin to understand what army life entailed.

Colly snorted to himself. That was over. He had come here to find out what his father knew of Juliana's plans. He was merely using Heather Hill as a convenient stopover point. Juliana came first, and always would.

He grabbed his valise and strode towards the house, expecting a frigid welcome.

But his parents were pathetically glad to see him. ‘Welcome, m'boy,' his father said, hand outstretched. And this time Colly did not reject the overture, because if he read the situation right, the old boy now had Colly's interests at heart.

‘Hello again, Father,' he said, laughing. A footman stole up beside him and took away his valise. ‘Er, thank you.' This time he did not recognize the retainer. He raised his eyebrows and Sir Ambrose nodded.

‘Yes, he's new. Your brother is determined to fill Heather Hill with people
he
has selected.' Ambrose Hetherington smirked. ‘He's hoping I'll shuffle off this mortal coil soon, then he can take over altogether.'

‘Good grief, Father! He's a trifle premature.'

His father burst into nervous laughter. ‘So his sister told him yesterday. Caused a bit of a furore. Felicia was sent to her room.'

‘Since when does William have the ordering of the household, Father? What is going on here?' Colly demanded. Heather Hill was no longer any of his business, but something here was not right.

His father's face worked alarmingly, then he got himself under control. He began pacing about in a restless manner that Colly recognized. ‘Colly … I, well, when you left—'

Colly interrupted. ‘I didn't
leave
, Father; you threw me out.'

‘Well, yes. Let me explain. Even when you were small, your horsemanship was superior to your brother's. And when you came down from Eton, I saw you could run the Heather Hill stud without any help from me. Your business skills seem to be intuitive. I suppose the Trewbridges are getting the benefit of that,' his father added gloomily. ‘So William leaned on you. While you made the important decisions, he spent all his time in London. But Colly' – here his father stopped to stab a finger in Colly's direction – ‘William stood to inherit the estate and most of all, the stud stables. He
had
to learn to stand on his own two feet.'

Colly smothered a smile. Not much chance of that while the old man still lived.

Ambrose Hetherington shot an anguished glance at Colly. ‘You had to be sacrificed, Colly.'

Colly stared at his father. ‘Why on earth didn't you just say so in the first place?'

His father flushed with embarrassment. ‘Well, when I told you to leave, I didn't mean
leave forever
.' He glared at Colly who grinned back.

‘You're damned lucky I didn't ask Grandmama to finance me into a stud farm right next door to you. Lord, yes. I could have called it Hetherington Hall,' he mused.

Ambrose Hetherington stared at his son in horror. ‘You wouldn't have, would you?'

‘In those first few days I just might have. But once I'd simmered down, I knew I couldn't do it. Anyway, Grandmama didn't lend me enough money to purchase an estate. It was just enough to purchase a majority.'

‘Damn fool woman. You might have been killed!'

‘Nearly. Several times. But that's over with now. Let's forget all that. I just met Tom. What's happening with the stud?'

Ambrose Hetherington thumped down on a brocade chair. ‘When you left, I gave William free rein.'

Colly did his best to keep his face straight. His father's idea of free rein and other people's ideas of free rein were two different things.

‘I told him he'd better get used to running the stud. I wasn't feeling too well in those days, you see.' He cast a glance at Colly from beneath beetled brows.

This time Colly had to work really hard to subdue a snigger. Ever since he could remember his father had suffered from imaginary
ailments that he predicted would carry him off any day. The bouts of illness often occurred when his will was crossed.

‘I thought by handing over the reins to William before I died I was doing him a favour. With my guidance he could develop the skills to manage everything competently. Instead, he turned into a tyrant,' Sir Ambrose gloomed on. ‘He concentrates on petty household matters that do not concern him while harvests languish and good staff leave. He's made a right mull of it. Comes to me for advice then does the opposite of what I suggest.'

Colly was stunned. William had always been very much in the old man's pocket, but now the tables were turned.

There was a rustle behind him and someone grabbed his hand. His mother. ‘Darling boy. So pleased to have you here.' She stood on tiptoe to press a kiss against his chin. He held her hand for a moment. When he was a child she'd never touched him or given any demonstrations of love. It was sad that he'd had to go far away before she could bring herself to touch him.

‘And Felicia? Where is she?' he asked.

‘I'm here, Colly.'

A little vision in blue slipped into the room.
This
was his young sister?

‘Felicia!' He opened wide his arms and she ran to him.

‘Dear Colly, how I missed you! We've all missed you.'

‘Sweet little Felicia, I thought about you often as we slogged through Portugal.'

Her hazel eyes blurred with tears as she clung to his arm. ‘Grandmama kept me apprised of where your brigade was posted. I have a map with coloured pins stuck all over Spain and Portugal.'

‘Do you, by God?' their father interrupted.

They ignored him.

Colly smiled. ‘I wish I'd known. It would have been such a comfort to think of you marking our progress across the Peninsula.' She clung harder to his hand in a silent message of sympathy, then stepped back into the shadows. The innocent-eyed hoyden he used to know had never behaved in such a subdued manner, but, as he'd speculated, it seemed she had been tutored in the ways of young ladies. Such a shame. He thought of Juliana who would never fit the current description of a young lady yet who was undoubtedly a lady. Felicia must spend some time with Juliana. That way she would have another yardstick to measure against.

‘I'm sorry you missed dinner,' his mother said. ‘I've ordered a tray to
be taken to the conservatory. At this time of year it is very pleasant.' As she spoke, she threaded her arm through his.

‘Certainly, if you don't mind watching me eat.'

His father, recovering rapidly, winked and said, ‘I know what, or rather who, you came here for.'

Colly grinned. ‘I hope you know the trouble you've caused me, bringing Miss Colebrook to this part of the country.'

‘Son, I did it because she was adamant about this Davidson chap. She was sure he'd written that letter. I couldn't dissuade her from setting out for Keynsham so I thought it best to lend her our carriage and keep her under my thumb.'

For once, Father's arbitrary thumb had come in handy. ‘Thank you, Father. I agree with Juliana that Davidson is the most likely candidate for a little gentle extortion. That letter was couched most genteelly.' Colly laughed. ‘If you knew Davidson better, you'd understand what I mean. He is a very deliberate, careful individual.'

‘Yes. He called on us,' his mother said, her lips quirking.

His father wanted to know the ins and outs, however. ‘But what was Miss Colebrook
really
up to, Colwyn? She fluttered around saying goodbye to all and sundry as if she didn't expect to return.'

Colly sat down and accepted the plate stacked high with food that his mother had selected for him. He felt most uncomfortable eating in front of his family. In fact, he felt rather like an exhibit in a sideshow.

Selecting a slice of partridge, he tried to avoid his father's question, but Ambrose Hetherington stood, waiting. Finally Colly was forced to answer. ‘She knows I intend to ask her to marry me, and because of her family she has a bee in her bonnet about not being good enough for me.'

‘Congratulations, m'boy!' His father was beaming.

Colly blinked. ‘I didn't think you approved of her, Father.'

‘Rubbish. Didn't get the time to know her when we first met. I spent several hours with her today and I've come to like her very much. Don't let her slip through your fingers. What an interesting life she has had!'