Pride of the Courtneys (3 page)

And with that he left me, his long strides taking him swiftly down the long hall and into the drawing-room.

How diverse were the welcomes I had received. Lady Courtney—cold and openly hostile. Georgiana—joyously. Sir Hugh—shocked and bewildered, and now Basset—with warmth. Which, I asked myself, was the least expected? It was difficult to decide.

I did not feel quite so apprehensive as before. Georgiana was most certainly a friend, and Bassett was not a man who would feign an act of welcome. Though I could not help but fear him, his eyes were the most honest eyes I had ever seen. He was a man to be admired, I thought, but not to be crossed.

I returned to my room and from my few clothes I chose a brown velvet gown, which I considered most suitable for my first appearance at the Courtney table—unassuming, yet not lacking in elegance.

Accustomed to dressing myself without the help of a personal maid, I was ready for dinner with ten minutes to spare. I had not, I realised, had time to inspect the view from my room. I crossed the room and stood before the long window.

Although I had been given a back room, the view far surpassed my wildest hopes.

Immediately below my window a smooth lawn sloped gently down towards an orchard still richly laden with pink and white blossom. Beyond this glimmered the lake in the evening sun, and again beyond this the soft outline of purple hills. Tranquillity reigned supreme. I would have been content to stay there until the light faded and as it was, I was still staring breathlessly at the scene when the dinner gong sounded.

Dinner proved to be worse than I had imagined. For to add to my nervousness at being confronted by all the Courtney family at once, I found there were two guests for dinner.

Dr Charles Corby and his sister, Evelyn, were newcomers to the district and Bassett Courtney, being the squire, had asked them to dine as a note of welcome to his village.

Dr Corby was a young man of fair complexion. His face was handsome with finely chiselled features, and his expression was one of keen alertness. His eyes held the compassion and knowledge of so many dedicated to his profession. His sister, a little older than he, I guessed, was a plain girl, whose main asset was her fine brown eyes. She seemed quiet and withdrawn, even sulky. Her dress was unbecoming, though of good material.

I wondered why any girl of her age should show such a positive lack of interest in her appearance, for although neat, the whole effect was of a dull personality.

Lady Courtney made the introductions.

‘This, Miss Corby, Dr Corby, is Louella Lloyd. The poor child has had the misfortune to be left a penniless orphan. My husband's brother has cared for her for many years, and now, his duty no doubt long expired, he has sought happiness in re-marriage and subsequent emigration.'

Here, whilst my cheeks slowly flamed, Lady Courtney paused significantly.

‘So my husband, and son, I might add, feel it their duty to give this girl a home until such time as we may find a husband willing to take her, poor as she is.'

I realised it was unreasonable and unjust, but these were the words which sparked off my fear and dislike of Bassett Courtney. His mother's words Implied that I owed everything to him, that but for his condescension and generosity, I should have been flung out on to the streets to live the life of many a ragged, orphaned urchin.

My acute embarrassment was somewhat lessened when Dr Corby smiled kindly, squeezed my hand a little more than necessary in his handshake and said gallantly:

‘I'm sure, with such beauty, Miss Lloyd should have no difficulty in securing a husband.'

The reactions of everyone in the room to this remark were varied. I saw Lady Courtney raise her eyebrows slightly. A startled gasp escaped Miss Corby's lips—no doubt she was not used to hearing such forwardness from her gentle brother. But what dismayed me the most was that when I glanced at Georgiana, her expression was a mixture of hurt and anger.

But as she caught my eyes, she quickly hid her feelings and smiled brightly, if not successfully.

‘She's well enough, I suppose,' Lady Courtney's answer was grudging. ‘ No doubt my son will find a suitable husband for her amongst the smaller landowners in the village.'

‘A husband for whom, mother?'

My heart lurched. No one had seen Bassett enter at that moment. I sighed inwardly. Now I had to suffer yet more shame before his arrogant eyes.

‘For Louella, of course. The sooner she is married, the better, as far as I can see.'

Bassett frowned.

‘I don't see that there is any reason to hurry the poor child into an unhappy marriage.' He smiled sardonically at his mother. ‘ She'll hardly eat us out of house and home, mother.'

‘Well, I sincerely hope you're grateful to Mr Courtney,' said Lady Courtney, turning to me. ‘There's proof of his generosity indeed.'

My temper, though dangerously frayed, I managed to control and I answered her quite calmly, and I hoped with the right degree of humility, though it was difficult to keep the sarcasm from my tone.

‘I am deeply indebted to Mr Courtney and to all of you for your kindness.'

There was rather an awkward pause. I felt Bassett's eyes upon me, but as I dared not meet his gaze I could not read his expression.

The tense atmosphere was broken suddenly by the appearance of Sir Hugh Courtney.

‘Dear me, late again. I'm very sorry, Emily—Bassett.'

‘Don't apologise, father. We were not ready ourselves.'

I noticed the difference in Bassett's tone when speaking to his father. It was gentle and respectful and gave no indication to a stranger that son, and not father, now held the status of head of the family.

Even at dinner, Bassett and Sir Hugh were seated at either end of the long table, so that it would be difficult for the uninformed to know who presided over the family gathering.

The conversation throughout the meal was centred upon the guests, and as I was not drawn into it, I ate in silence, not venturing to speak without invitation.

The same occurred when the ladies withdrew to the drawing-room, whilst the gentlemen drank their port, though I was somewhat heartened when Georgiana squeezed my elbow as we passed down the hallway.

Later, when the gentlemen rejoined us, Dr Corby deliberately seated himself next to me, and began asking me questions about myself.

‘We seem to have neglected you, Miss Lloyd. Come, tell me about yourself.'

For some inexplicable reason, I felt the room grow cold and tense once more as the others fell silent. Lady Courtney glanced at her husband who In turn had fixed his attention upon me. As I met his gaze, it was as if he were seeing me for the first time. The same startled look crossed his face as when he had first seen me in his study. He breathed quickly and painfully.

I was distressed. Undoubtedly, something about me disturbed him every time my presence was called to his attention.

Lady Courtney, angered by the situation, sought to relieve the tension.

‘Miss Lloyd has had an uninteresting life, Dr Corby. I am sure nothing of her conversation would amuse you. Now come, you must have had many varied experiences by which we would be entertained.'

‘On the contrary,' Dr Corby's voice was polite, but no doubt he felt somewhat slighted, though not by me for I had had no chance of replying to his question. ‘My sister and I lived a very secluded life as children and since adolescence I myself have been so engrossed in work and study that I have seen very little of the outside world. Evelyn, too, in nursing our parents through their last illness, has allowed her youth to slip by unenjoyed.'

Bassett smiled at Miss Corby.

‘I cannot agree that Miss Corby's youth has slipped away. Surely, she is only just beginning to enjoy it.'

Evelyn Corby smiled calmly, but the smile did not reach her eyes.

‘You are very gallant, Mr Courtney. I am not ashamed to admit to my age, nor wish to hide it, like many women. I am twenty-eight and unmarried, and, according to the fashion of the day, that is decidedly old and quite definitely past the marriageable age.'

Bassett laughed, and it was as if the sun filled the room, sweeping away all sign of the tension of the previous few moments, between Sir Hugh and myself.

‘It is absurd, the idea of today that twenty-eight is old. Why, it is a wonderful age for a young woman. I am thirty and unmarried. Now that must be thought ancient. And by now I cannot, surely, even hope for matrimony.'

Bassett's rich laugh infected us all, and soon even Lady Courtney was smiling.

‘My dear Bassett,' she said indulgently, ‘how plain it is to see you do not understand the ways of the world. While I beg you to believe me, Miss Corby, that I imply no insult to yourself for I think you very noble in your sacrifice to your parents, yet I must agree that twenty-eight is a little too old to begin securing a husband. However, let me hasten to assure you that you do not look a day over twenty-three, and there are plenty of young women unmarried at twenty-three.'

‘You are very kind, Lady Courtney, to reassure me. But to be quite honest, I am not really interested in marriage. I am happy to care for Charles and keep house for him. A busy doctor needs an efficient homemaker.'

‘But what if your brother should marry, Miss Corby?' Lady Courtney enquired.

Miss Corby hesitated and I thought a look of pain crossed her face.

‘I am trained as a governess, I should not hesitate to seek employment. I would not wish to be a burden upon Charles.' And as she spoke I felt her glance at me—no doubt thinking of the burden I had become upon the Courtneys.

‘Now, Evelyn, there is no need for such morbid talk,' said Charles.

‘Really, Charles,' Miss Corby seemed distressed now. ‘I have said too much already. Please, let us change the subject.'

Her discomfort, however, was short-lived for as Dr Corby left my side to talk to Lady Courtney and Georgiana joined them, I saw Bassett seat himself beside Evelyn and engage her in conversation.

Sir Hugh busied himself with a book at the far end of the room, and I was once more left alone.

After a few moments I slipped quietly and unobserved from their company and went to my room.

I was pleased to escape. The morning's parting from Uncle James, the various welcomes at Courtney Hall and tensions at dinner and afterwards had left me exhausted.

Within half-an-hour, I was in bed and just before I fell asleep, my last thoughts were of Bassett Courtney.

This proud, arrogant man over-awed me. I knew, without good reason, I did not like him. In his presence I felt a foolish, blushing child. And yet, it was because of him that I was here, cared-for and comfortable in beautiful surroundings. I ought to be grateful to him, but somehow my heart ruled my head and I could not, would not, like Bassett Courtney, because my pride rebelled against my dependence upon him for my livelihood.

The next morning I awoke with none of the forebodings with which I had fallen asleep. The sun streamed in through the window as Mary drew back the heavy curtains.

‘Morning, miss,' she chirped, as I lifted my head sleepily from the pillow and blinked ridiculously in the bright light.

‘Breakfast is in half an hour, miss. You are to have it in the old school room with Miss Georgiana, just for this morning.'

‘Oh,' I faltered, ‘where is that?'

‘Of course, you'll not be knowing your way about this great house.' She paused. ‘I'll slip back in half an hour and take you there, miss.'

‘Don't trouble, Mary, you'll probably be busy.'

‘No trouble, miss,' she smiled and added, obviously pleased with herself, ‘the master told me last night I was to look after you, miss, and see you had all you wanted.'

‘The master?' I queried hesitantly, already fearing the obvious answer.

‘Yes, miss, Mr Bassett,' Mary said proudly, as she opened the door to leave.

I sighed silently.

Yet again, he was doing what he could for me. Why, I asked myself, could I not like him? Every time he favoured me with his attention to my welfare, it made me feel more indebted to him—in a way which I did not want.

Once out of bed, I went quickly to the window. I drew breath sharply. The view seemed even more beautiful than yesterday. Fresh and sparkling in the morning, the world seemed untarnished and so peaceful, that tears sprang to my eyes.

I turned at last from the panoramic view and hastened to dress. I could hardly wait to walk into the view and become a part of it.

I breakfasted alone. Georgiana had overslept after a late night entertaining their guests.

As soon as I could, I put on my outdoor wrap and leaving the great house, I stepped joyfully into the grounds. I followed the path round from the front door to the back of the house, over which my bedroom window looked, and thence to the orchard.

I found a small gate at the far side of the orchard opening onto a meadow. I followed the winding cattle tracks towards the river. The rich grass, dappled with bright buttercups, still sparkled with dew in the spring sunlight, and the hem of my skirt soon became quite wet. But I did not care, for I was where I loved being. Alone with the peaceful world of nature. A rabbit bounced from the long grass and tore ahead of me. A cow lazily raised its head as I passed by and gazed at me with sorrowful eyes, ceaseless in its rhythmic chewing.

My heart felt lighter here away from the house and its strange atmosphere. There was something odd, I reflected. Why had Georgiana broken off so abruptly when talking about arranged marriages? Why had she spoken so seriously to me asking me not to be upset by anything anyone said to me?

And why was Sir Hugh so strange and distressed when my presence was called to his particular attention?

I sighed. Was I the centre of some mystery? And then I shook myself and laughed. I was being vain and foolish in thinking that I had any effect on the Courtney household other than that a homeless waif, as Lady Courtney called me, was an inconvenience.