Lavender Lady (22 page)

“Thank you, sir,” mumbled Jamie, his voice almost suspended by manfully repressed tears. “Hester is preparing a meal for you.”

“Was she very distressed?” asked Lord Alton, swinging down from his mount and tying the reins to a railing. He stroked Jettison’s black nose and gave him a lump of sugar.

“She was very angry with me. I deserve everything she said and more. But she was not worried, once I told her you were going after him. She said going to you was the only sensible thing I had done, and she was sure Rob was safe if you were on your way to rescue him.”

With these words as sauce, his lordship had never enjoyed a better supper.

Chapter 15

At Lord Alton’s request, Jamie went to see him the next morning in Hanover Square. He had spent a restless night pondering his sins and was still in a penitent mood that made him almost eager to accept any punishment his lordship might consider suitable.

Not once did it cross his mind that Lord Alton was not his mentor and had no right whatever to criticise his conduct.

To his surprised relief, he found himself being offered the chance of sharing Terence’s lessons with his lordship’s new secretary There was one condition—that he should put away his books at other times.

“We cannot have you making a regular habit of losing Robbie,” said his lordship with a twinkle in his eye.

“Oh no, sir, I promise.” Jamie paused, suddenly ill at ease, then made up his mind to go on. “You . . . you’re doing this for Hester, aren’t you? I sometimes think maybe you are in . . . you are fond of her?”

Lord Alton had not expected this schoolboy with his head buried in his books to be capable of so shrewd an observation. He was in a quandary. It accorded ill with his dignity to admit his passion to a callow youth, especially when he was still unsure of the outcome. Then he remembered Hester’s expression of faith in him only last night, and his hopes rose. Besides, Jamie was her eldest brother and, in the absence of a father, that must give him certain rights in spite of his age.

“I wish to marry your sister,” he said candidly. “I’ve not yet spoken to her, and I know I may trust your discretion, James. I hope you would have no objection should she accept my hand?”

“No, how could I? I wondered if that was why you had been so very kind to all of us.”

“You must not think that it is entirely for her sake. I am, er, fond of you all, or I should not dream of taking on the whole family, not to mention chimney sweeps, three legged cats, and various other strays past, present, and future, however much I loved Hester!” He was aching to ask whether Jamie thought he had a chance of winning her affection, but that would be to humble himself beyond reason. He was soon very glad he had not.

“She likes you,” reflected James. “Well, it’s only natural after all you have done for us. Only there is still John Collingwood to take into account. She had several letters from him after you left Henley, you know.”

Neither of them had the least idea that the young vicar had tactfully written to Alice under cover to Hester. The knowledge would have set to rest many misgivings on one side and heartache on the other.

“Devil take the parson!” said Lord Alton gloomily.

Mr. Collingwood was the chief subject of conversation that Sunday when Alice spent the afternoon with her sister. They were planning to try on the altered gown, so Lord Alton delivered her to the door and then tactfully took himself off.

Hester slipped into the gown, and Alice began to pin here and stitch there to make sure of a perfect fit.

“Are you sure you can spare this, dearest?” asked Hester, though it was now by far too late to restore the garment to its previous state.

“Of course, Hester, and any others that you need. After all, I shall not need such fine clothing in Wiveliscombe. It would not be right for a parson’s wife to appear so fashionably dressed, and I daresay I shall not need an evening gown above once a week.”

“Does not that distress you? You are used now to constant amusements and entertainments, but in a vicarage you are more like to be employed about household tasks.”

“I love to sew and to care for little John. Mr. Collingwood keeps a maid and a man, so I shall not cook or clean. I do not care so much for grand parties anyway; a great crush makes me sadly nervous, and at a small gathering one is supposed to be witty and clever, and you know I have no conversation. My aunt is forever saying so.”

The thought of Lady Bardry’s strictures was bringing tears to Alice’s eyes. She stopped pinning to wipe them away.

“Alice, you are not truly unhappy, are you?” asked Hester in concern. The sympathetic anxiety in her voice was enough to completely overset Alice’s self-control, always susceptible.

“I want John!” she wailed. “You may think me shockingly ungrateful, but I never wanted to come to London. You and Jamie made me come, and all I wanted to do was to go into Somerset!”

Hurt and troubled, Hester tried to soothe her sister, valiantly ignoring the pins that jabbed her every time she moved. Alice was inconsolable.

“But, dearest, you told me he will be here next month!” Hester pointed out at last, beginning to grow exasperated. “You know I will not,
cannot
force you to marry someone else if the pair of you are still of the same mind then. You really must try to outgrow these weeping fits, Allie. They are as unsuitable as fine raiment in a vicar’s wife! Hush now, or I shall have nothing to wear on Friday.”

The tumultuous sobs gradually decreased. Alice raised her tearstained face, her dark eyes huger than ever and unmarred by the slightest trace of pink. “I’m so sorry, Hester. I never meant to say such a thing. It was what Mama wanted for me, I know, and you are only against John because of her wishes. You have been very good to me.”

Hester was afraid that remorse was about to lead to a new outburst. “Yes, love, but see, this sleeve is so tight it has left a red mark right around my arm. I hope you can loosen it a little.’’

Thus challenged, Alice was soon busy again with needle and scissors. Her favourite occupation settled her nerves and by the time Lord Alton returned to take her back to Holles Street, and Hester to the Rugbys in Russell Square, she was perfectly content once more.

Not so Hester. While her sister was gathering her sewing materials above stairs, she waited in the parlour with his lordship.

‘Forgive me,” said Lord Alton gently, “but you are blue-devilled, are you not? Is there anything I can do?”

“No, it is nothing. Alice is in the mopes, and I have to acknowledge that it is partly my fault. How I wish Mr. Collingwood were here!” Hester sighed deeply. She was sorry to have to strike such a blow at his hopes, but it was kinder in the end to let him know that Alice still thought of nothing but John Collingwood.

His lordship had not heard that name on her lips since his sojourn in Henley. In spite of Jamie’s words, he had hoped that his increasing intimacy with Hester had driven the churchman from her mind. Now he felt that his sympathy had been rejected in favour of the absent Collingwood. It was Collingwood’s advice and support she longed for, not his.

The Earl of Alton and Miss Godric were not among the Rugbys’ most talkative guests that evening. As they left, Bella shook her head sadly at her husband.

“I wonder what is wrong,” she whispered.

“Trust David to come about,” Barney reassured. “I’ve never known him to fail yet.”

David himself was less sanguine. Instinct and pride alike bade him hide away and lick his wounds. If over six months of absence had not undermined Hester’s tendre for the vicar, what hope had he? He was making a cake of himself, dangling after an ineligible female who preferred a village parsonage to the wealth and position he could offer her. He shuddered to think what his cronies at White’s would make of the sorry tale. Never must a murmur come to their ears! He must stop seeing Hester at once.

He pictured her awaiting his usual Monday afternoon visit. When he did not turn up, she would soon realise that she could no longer keep him dancing attendance while her lover was absent.

The thought was curiously unsatisfying. Hester’s forlorn face rose before him, and far from triumph, it brought only pain. She was his friend; was it her fault she could not love him? If he did not take her out, she would be condemned to endless hours of Mrs. Florabel Stevens. To leave her in the clutches of that harpy was an act no gentleman could condone.
Noblesse oblige!
It was his duty to continue in his present habits.

How rarely duty and inclination so neatly coincide! he thought as he fell asleep.

Hester knew that her mention of Mr. Collingwood was responsible for Lord Alton’s low spirits. That Monday afternoon she exerted herself to distract him from such gloom reflections as Alice’s insensibility toward him must bring.

It was a warm day in late April. They had crossed the Thames by the Hammersmith Bridge, left the curricle in Jerry’s charge, and were wandering through water-meadows full of lady’s smock and marsh marigolds. No one watching the rambling pair could have supposed them anything but sweethearts as David helped the laughing Hester over stiles, wove a chain of cowslips for her hair, spread his coat carefully on the bank for her to sit.

A kingfisher flashed blue across the river, greening willows traced patterns in the water, a skiff tacked laboriously upstream. Hester sighed in contentment. “I could almost believe myself at home,” she said.

“In Henley? Do you wish yourself there?”

“No indeed. How could I so insult present company?” she teased. “Besides, I would be preparing dinner, not sitting by the river contemplating the view. I own, though, that life in London seems to be much more complicated that I had envisioned. Since we left home, I have not felt myself in control as I was used to.”

“In control of your family?”

“Partly. Of life in general, of my own destiny. I sometimes feel I am borne along by an irresistible current, and I do not know where it is taking me. But I was determined to converse only upon cheerful topics today, and here you have made me serious. Tell me, have you read this new book that is just published, called
Frankenstein?
Alice tells me it is excessively horrid and gave her the nightmares.” They turned to a discussion of books until it grew chilly and clouds began to gather.

The towering cumulus sailed overhead without wetting them, but the days that followed were dark with drizzle. When Lord Alton arrived in Paddington on Wednesday, bearing a bundle of carefully wrapped volumes fresh from the bookseller, he found Hester in the parlour presiding over an all-male society—not only James and Robbie, but his two younger nephews and Mr. Wallace as well.

Mrs. Stevens, it appeared, was confined to her chamber with the sniffles. Unaccountably, his lordship did not feel that circumstance need cause his instant departure. Some other reason than saving Hester from her company could be found for his remaining. Well, it was beastly wet out; need he look further?

After a few minutes’ observation, his lordship saw with wry amusement that Freddy’s young tutor had become a fervent admirer of Miss Godric.

And a most unexceptionable match it would be, he realised, shocked. At least, if it were not for the family to be taken care of. No, the penniless Wallace was out of the running. Not for the first time, he wished he could use his wealth as an inducement to Hester to marry him, but she would never accept for that reason, even for her family’s sake. Nor world he love her so if she were that kind of designing female. He sighed.

Later, as she was taking his leave, Hester asked him privately if his leg was troublesome again.

“No, not in the least,” he assured her. “Never a twinge since you gave me the liniment. Wet weather and dry are all one to me, and what is more, my friends still welcome me to their homes. You are a miracle worker. Apropos, dare I hope one day to taste your cooking again?”

“Do you mean it?” she asked shyly. “I had thought of preparing a dinner for you and Bella and Barney. I feel I must make some return for their hospitality, and Dora is not up to catering for company. But I was not sure . . . Perhaps it would look . . .”

“It would be a delightful gesture, and I hope you know that neither I nor the Rugbys would think it anything else. Already my mouth begins to water!”

“Then I shall discuss it with Bella tomorrow. Thank you, and thank you also for the books. They will provide no end of pleasure. Good-bye, David.”

“Until Friday.”

* * * *

Friday: the Charworthys’ musicale.

As Lord Alton’s carriage took its place in the line that stretched the length of Charles Street and round the corner into Grosvenor Square, Hester pinched her cheeks to bring a little colour into them. Not for the world would she have Lady Bardry, or anyone else, think her frightened. His lordship, noticing the furtive movement, kindly looked out of the window. As he helped her down at last, he felt her hand tremble on his arm, but her step was firm, her chin was high, and she moved with quiet elegance in the borrowed pelerine that draped her shoulders in its mossy velvet folds.

They entered the crowded hall, and a footman bore off his hat and gloves, her protective drapery. Turning, he took both her hands in his and looked her up and down.

“Charming!” he murmured, and his eyes held frank admiration, then a provocative twinkle. “Very different.”

“As different as Alice could make it,” she confirmed in an equally low voice, laughing.

As they proceeded through the crush toward the stairs, Lord Alton was greeted by several acquaintances. He introduced Hester to each, but did not stop to talk.

“Do you know everyone in town?” she asked as they ascended the marble staircase.

“Everyone worth knowing, and a good many I’d not praise so high. Good evening, Ariadne, Charworthy. May I present Miss Godric to you?”

They had reached the receiving line. Lord Charworthy bowed silently over Hester’s hand. A stout gentleman who strongly resembled his eldest son, he was equally speechless in company but had the reputation of a clever politician, so presumably he opened his mouth often enough in the House of Lords.