Deborah Goes to Dover (5 page)

Clarissa lowered her long eyelashes. ‘Yes, please do,’ she whispered.

William felt almost sick with elation. He led her with the others to the dining-room, where a cold collation had been laid out for the guests.

He sat down next to Clarissa and helped her to food as tenderly as if she were an invalid. He dimly heard Hannah asking where Lady Deborah was and he did not care.

‘Lady Deborah has gone to change,’ said the earl.

Mr Carruthers leaned forward and said to Hannah, ‘I am sure we have met before. Is that possible?’

‘No, I do not think so, sir.’ Hannah looked at him uneasily.

‘Odd, and yet I know I have seen you somewhere before, ma’am. It is those remarkable eyes of yours. Let me think.’

Hannah prayed that Lady Deborah would come in and create a diversion. When Mrs Clarence had been in residence at Thornton Hall, there had been many parties and many guests. If Mr Carruthers had been one of them and remembered her as the housekeeper and said so, she feared all would shrink from her.

The door opened and Lady Deborah came in. She was wearing a pretty gown of lilac jaconet muslin with a gored bodice finished with a tucker of fine
embroidery.
The gentlemen rose to their feet. Lady Deborah looked around the table rather blindly, but the only vacant seat was next to the earl and he was drawing out the chair for her. She sat down, her back ramrod-straight, and stared straight ahead.

‘I know where I have seen you before,’ cried Mr Carruthers suddenly. The earl noticed that Miss Pym’s strange footman, who was standing behind her chair, put a hand on his mistress’s shoulder and gripped it hard. Hannah’s eyes were quite colourless.

‘It was in Gunter’s,’ cried Mr Carruthers. ‘And you were taking tea with Sir George Clarence.’

‘Yes, Sir George is a friend of mine,’ said Hannah, her eyes golden. The footman, the earl noticed, removed his hand from Hannah’s shoulder and visibly appeared to relax.

The earl turned his attention to Deborah. She looked up at him. How blue her eyes were, he thought, as blue as the summer sea. He was intensely aware of her now, of the rise and fall of her soft bosom, of those excellent slender legs now decorously concealed beneath a skirt, of the springy curl of her golden hair, which framed her face like an aureole.

‘How do you and your brother pass your days, Lady Deborah?’ he asked.

‘In various sports,’ she answered, ‘and in seeing to the smooth running of the estate.’

‘Do you make calls?’

‘No, only on sick tenants. I despise this business of making calls, chattering inanely among the teacups.’

‘Ah, I had forgot, you despise your own sex.’

‘I do not despise ladies such as Miss Pym, for example, who have wind and bottom, but flirting, empty-headed misses, that is another thing.’ She looked sourly in the direction of Clarissa, who was trilling with laughter at something her brother had said. William appeared enchanted.

‘I am glad to notice that Lord William does not share your views,’ said the earl drily.

‘Everything was all right before you came,’
muttered
Deborah, and stabbed a piece of meat viciously with her two-pronged fork.

Hannah, quite light-headed with relief that Mr Carruthers had not found out her guilty secret, began to regale the company with some of her adventures. ‘Tell them about Benjamin,’ urged William, and so Hannah told them about the wicked Lady Carsey and
how Benjamin had found employment in her
household.
He had learned she had a penchant for what she deemed as freaks, although most would deem as unfortunate, and so had pretended to be deaf and dumb, how he had been rescued from the scaffold and of how Lady Carsey had tried to take her revenge by subsequently kidnapping him, a rescue only achieved after Hannah had set Lady Carsey’s house on fire.

‘A dangerous woman,’ said Mr Carruthers. ‘Be careful she does not cross your path again, Miss Pym.’

‘I shall be very careful,’ said Hannah. ‘Up until I met her, I thought there was a spark of good in all of us, but I think Lady Carsey is evil.’

‘And so your Benjamin, instead of going ahead to be one of England’s greatest fighters, decided out of gratitude to stay as your servant,’ said Mr Carruthers.

‘’Ere!’ said Benjamin, finding his voice. ‘I stay ’cos I wants to stay. What’s the fun o’ getting smashed in the victualling-box?’

There was a roar of laughter at this from all except Clarissa, who looked at Hannah in round-eyed
amazement.
‘I fear we are shocking Miss Clarissa,’ said William.

‘I could never do such things,’ said Clarissa. ‘I should be frightened to death.’ She shrank a little toward William, who laughed and patted her hand and called her a silly puss.

Deborah looked crossly at William and reflected that she had never seen her brother make such a cake of himself before.

She was glad when the meal was over and prayed these unwelcome guests would soon take themselves
off, but there was William, offering to take Clarissa on a tour of the gardens. ‘Well, Lady Deborah,’ mocked the earl, ‘are the rest of us to be neglected? Or may we see the gardens?’

‘If you wish,’ said Deborah crossly. The company all rinsed out their mouths and wiped them on the tablecloth, napkins still being considered a
newfangled
French custom. Deborah led the way out.

The day was warm and balmy. She walked quickly to try to keep up with her brother and Clarissa, who were heading for the rose garden. She had a sudden stabbing fear that William would do something insane like propose marriage.

‘Not so fast,’ she heard the earl say. ‘It is too fine a day to charge along. Besides, your brother is old enough to look after himself.’

‘He may do something he might regret,’ snapped Deborah. ‘Imagine having that as a sister-in-law.’

‘You could fare worse,’ he said easily. ‘She is sweet and kind.’

‘Pooh,’ exclaimed Deborah. ‘She would bore him to death!’

He caught her arm and swung her round to face him. ‘Perhaps not. There is such a thing as love.’

Her eyes flew up to meet his and then dropped. She tugged her arm away and said, ‘You only say such things to torment me.’

‘Not I. As I pointed out earlier, I have your welfare at heart.’

‘Why?’

‘Because of my friendship with your father.’

‘Of course. You are old, like my father, are you not?’

He studied her flushed face. ‘Not a worthy remark,’ he said. ‘Let us walk on.’ Deborah marched beside him. ‘Here we are at the rose garden,’ he said, ‘and there are your brother and Miss Carruthers, standing by the sundial, looking very romantic.’

‘Fiddle. The roses are not yet out. There is nothing to see but thorns and leaves.’

‘Which is exactly what I think when I look at you,’ said the earl.

Deborah made an impatient noise and went to join her brother, but for the first time William looked as if he heartily wished her elsewhere.

‘I see Captain Beltravers has walked off with your daughter,’ Hannah was saying to Mrs Conningham. ‘Are you not concerned?’

‘No,’ said Mrs Conningham placidly. ‘The captain is a gentleman and I felt it my duty to tell him during luncheon that Abigail was already engaged. Let us sit down, Miss Pym. The day is quite warm.’

Both ladies sat down on a rustic bench. Hannah watched the retreating figures of Abigail and Captain Beltravers and wondered what the normally silent and withdrawn soldier was finding to talk about.

‘Uncle Henry is very wealthy,’ Abigail was saying sadly. ‘He could have provided for the lot of us, that is, Mother and all my brothers and sisters, and barely have noticed the difference. Oh, he has said now, he will help, but only if I marry this Mr Clegg.’

‘It is a miserable situation for you,’ commented the captain. ‘Can nothing be done?’

Abigail shook her head. ‘I am twenty and Mama says I will soon be on the shelf. My sister Jane is nineteen and the beauty of the family.
She
told me I was being a ninny and that I would have a grand house and all the clothes I wanted.’

‘Then why did not Jane take your place?’

‘Because Mama says the eldest must be married first and that Jane with her looks can find a husband anywhere.’

‘Perhaps when you are in Dover, you can appeal to your uncle’s good nature.’

‘As I recall,’ said Abigail, ‘he hasn’t got a good nature.’

He walked along beside her in silence for quite a while and then said, ‘I have been thinking of Miss Pym and her adventures, Miss Conningham. She seems a very competent and strong lady. Might it not be an idea to talk to her? I cannot think of any solution, but she may.’

Abigail brightened and turned to him. ‘Do you think so? Do you really think so?’

‘Anything is better than being without hope,’ he replied in a low voice.

‘Oh,’ said Abigail with quick sympathy. ‘I heard you telling Miss Pym about your wife and child. How very terrible for you and how you must hate the military and everything to do with it.’

He looked at her in surprise. ‘I never thought about it,’ he said slowly. ‘I have always been a soldier.’

‘But don’t you see,’ cried Abigail, looking almost pretty in her concern for him, ‘everything must remind you of your sad loss. When you go on
campaigns, and see other wives being treated badly, it all must remind you of your lost wife. If I were you, I would hate my superior officers for being such callous monsters.’

She stopped and turned to face him, tears standing out in her eyes and her face flushed.

‘Why, Miss Abigail,’ exclaimed the captain. ‘I … I … well, by George, you have the right of it.’

‘But can you afford to sell out?’ asked Abigail delicately.

‘Yes, yes,’ he said impatiently. ‘That is the tragedy, don’t you see? If my Mary had stayed at home, she could have lived in comfort. There was no need for her to come. But I was heedless and thoughtless. I tell you, Miss Abigail, I sometimes look on myself as a murderer.’

He suddenly sat down on the grass and began to cry.

Abigail sank down beside him, her skirts spreading out over the grass. ‘There now,’ she said helplessly. ‘There! It is all over, and Mary and your boy are in Heaven and looking down on you. They are with the angels and very happy, that I do know.’ She put an arm about his shaking shoulders and held him until the spasm of grief had passed. He scrubbed his eyes and said half-ashamed, ‘I should not have inflicted my grief on you.’

‘You had to cry sometime,’ said Abigail practically. ‘I do believe, Captain Beltravers, that this is the first time you have ever cried.’

He nodded dumbly. ‘Then we will rise and continue our walk,’ said Abigail in a motherly voice,
‘until you have recovered yourself, and then we will return to the abbey and find you a fortifying glass of brandy.’

He rose and helped her to her feet, holding both of her hands tightly. ‘I shall never forget you,’ he said quietly and then dropped her hands as if suddenly embarrassed. Abigail blushed and then tucked her hand in his arm and together they walked off across the lawns.

Hannah, discussing the best ways of whitening linen with Mrs Conningham, covertly watched the two tiny figures disappear from view. She wondered if the captain had any money. She wondered why Lady Deborah looked changed since that kiss which must have taken place. She wondered about all sorts of interesting things while a small part of her mind coped with the domestic conversation with Mrs Conningham.

At last, she saw Lady Deborah returning from the rose garden. She was alone and looked in a furious temper. Behind her came William, stooping down to hear what the dainty little Clarissa was saying, and behind them strolled the earl with his friend, Mr Carruthers.

Then from the other direction came Abigail with the captain, no longer a shy Abigail but a determined lady who asked if the captain might have some brandy because he had been feeling unwell.

They all went up to the drawing-room, where the captain was given a bumper of brandy by William. The rest were served with wine and cakes. Hannah noticed that despite the masculine chaos that usually
reigned in the rooms of the abbey, the house boasted an excellent cook and the twins were good hosts. Some effort had been made to clean up the jumble which normally filled the drawing-room and the dogs were mercifully absent.

Mrs Conningham, aware that her daughter was fussing too much around the captain, announced loudly that they should take their leave. Mr
Carruthers
said he and his sister had to make
arrangements
for their journey to London in the morning. Benjamin left to bring the carriage round.

On the journey back to the inn, Captain Beltravers set himself to talk to Mrs Conningham and kept that lady so interested that Hannah was able to turn the events of the day over in her mind in peace. They were to leave Rochester on the repaired stage-coach in the morning. That, thought Hannah, was a pity, for she had become interested in Lord William and Lady Deborah. She would have liked to know whether Lady Deborah thought of the earl at all and what she thought and if William meant seriously to court Clarissa.

There was a long silence in the drawing-room after the guests had left. The dogs were allowed back in. William put his booted feet on the table and yawned and then said, ‘Dashed fine girl.’

‘The Clarissa creature? Pooh! You don’t half make a cake of yourself when you set your mind to it,’ sneered his sister.

He grinned. ‘I would call losing a race and having to kiss the winner making a cake of m’self. How was
it, Deb? I’ll bet our Puritan Ashley gave you a chaste kiss on the brow.’

‘Something like that,’ said Deborah quickly. ‘Don’t let’s talk about him. Were you really taken with that simpering, chattering fool?’

William eyed her levelly. ‘Don’t ever, not ever, speak of Clarissa Carruthers in such terms again. Do I make myself clear?’

Deborah looked at him in dismay. ‘But I was funning. You really did fancy her?’

‘Yes,’ said William quietly. ‘And next week I plan to go to London to stay with Aunt Jill so’s I can call on Miss Carruthers.’

‘If you marry, William, where would you live?’