The Paradise Will (17 page)

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Authors: Elizabeth Hanbury

Tags: #Fiction, #Sagas

BOOK: The Paradise Will
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For the first time in his life, Piers was thinking not only of himself, and he had no intention of wasting the opportunity Letty had given him. He did not relish going away but consoled himself with the memory of that smile and the note he received before leaving this morning, now safely stowed in his pocket. The letter was precious for its warm tone rather than the few words on the paper. Piers did not doubt she cared for him, in spite of his behaviour to date, and it was now up to him to nurture that affection and inchoate trust into love. As he had already done several times, he took the letter from his coat and read it.

Piers smiled, replaced the note carefully and urged his horses forward at a greater pace. He was travelling down a lane on the outskirts of the Hawkscote estate when he noticed a pall of smoke on the far edge of the field and, reining in his horses, he stared in concern.

The weather had been hot for several weeks and a fire could have started
accidentally
in the hay which had been cut and left to dry; on the other hand, it might be no accident. Piers’s mouth hardened. Although he had paid Draper and told him his services were no longer required, he didn’t trust the man. He now felt utter shame for what he had done and intended to make a clean breast of his involvement on his return, knowing there must be no secrets to mar his
relationship
with Letty, or his cousin, in the future. Narrowing his eyes to the
horizon
, he tried to see what was causing the smoke. This was impossible as the source was too far away, but he thought he could discern the vague outline of a figure and Piers could not leave without investigating further.

Jumping nimbly down from his carriage, he tethered the animals to a nearby tree and began to walk across the field, heading towards the thin line of smoke. Sweat trickled down his back as he strode out under the hot sun. As he reached the mid-point of his journey, he could see orange flames licking at the base of the smoke and concern turned to fear: fire would spread rapidly among the hay which made for perfect tinder. Then, he observed the figure near the flames and swore fluently and profusely under his breath – Draper! He broke into a run, managing to remain unobserved until his last few strides as Draper was busy adding fuel to the pyre and did not immediately notice his approach. He finally turned at the sound of footsteps.

‘What in Hades are you doing?’ cried Piers, panting.

An ugly expression descended on Draper’s thin features. He looked Piers up and down and sneered, ‘What does it look like?’ before returning to his task.

Piers caught hold of his arm to swing him violently around. ‘Don’t turn your back on me, you chawbacon! Explain yourself!’

Draper shook off Piers’s grasp. ‘I’m payin’ your cousin back for not givin’ me a decent wage!’ he said tersely.

‘Damn it, man, that’s done with! I told you it was finished, and paid you well for your part!’

The flames spat and licked higher, eating eagerly into the hay, while Draper jabbed his finger in Piers’s direction and snapped, ‘Oh, so I have to end it on your word, do I, Mr Kilworth? Well, let me tell you this – mebbe I don’t want to stop, after all! Mebbe I’m angry and sick of living on nothin’ but potatoes and a few rag ends of mutton while the likes of you and your cousin get rich off the backs of poor folk, and then bring in machinery to take what little work we ’ave. Mebbe I intend to make you and your kind pay, and pay well! This whole field and many more like it can go up in flames for all I care, and good riddance at that,’ he finished with an unpleasant smirk.

‘You bastard!’ growled Piers, ‘I’ll teach you a lesson you won’t forget!’ He swung his fist and Draper, caught unawares, fell to the ground, spitting blood from his mouth and cursing.

Piers stood over him with a furious expression and clenched fists. ‘Damn you for an impudent fool! There’s more of the home-brewed if you’ve the stomach for it!’

When Draper made no move, Piers curled his lip derisively and added, ‘You’re a coward as well! Help me put this fire out and when that’s done, you can slink back to your cottage and prepare to leave. Stay only until you find
accommodation
elsewhere – for the sake of your wife and children, I’ll not see you homeless – but don’t take too long about it: when I return in a few days, I don’t want to see your miserable face again.’

‘What if I don’t choose to?’ asked Draper defiantly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

‘I’ll have you thrown into jail.’

He eyed Piers truculently. ‘You’re very clever, ain’t you, Mr Kilworth? But what if I tell your cousin about you bein’ involved afore?’

‘You cur! I intend to tell her myself so it would make no difference. Besides, my cousin would believe me over a dog like you. Now be quick and put these flames out, before it’s too late!’

Grudgingly, Draper rose to his feet and, after spitting out blood and saliva on to the ground, took off his coat and began to beat the flames. Piers did the same, using both his jacket and a nearby fallen branch to attack the fire, but even with both their efforts it was five minutes before the flames were extinguished.

Piers stood with heaving chest and eyes streaming from the smoke. Drawing his shirt sleeve across his brow to mop up the perspiration, he eyed Draper with distaste; like Piers, he was streaked with dirt, soot and sweat but the labourer’s unprepossessing features bore no sign of remorse.

‘Well, what the devil are you waiting for?’ snapped Piers. ‘You have your belongings to pack. Just be thankful I don’t intend to put the law on you!’

Draper swore under his breath. ‘You’ll be sorry for this,’ he mumbled, savagely. Throwing Piers a final militant look, he turned on his heel and headed in the direction of the labourers’ cottages.

When he had gone, Piers sighed with relief; he knew serious damage would have been done had he not, by sheer chance, passed by. His eyes narrowed as he watched the speck denoting Draper’s retreating figure. The man was dangerous, and Piers cursed himself for ever encouraging him. It was imperative he confessed and apologized to Alyssa and Letty on his return, but there was no time now.

Piers spent further minutes ensuring the fire was completely out, before
looking
down at his singed jacket. His clothes, face and hands were filthy and he would need to call at The Antelope before continuing on his way. His coat was from one of the finest tailors in London and he felt a pang of regret at its ruin, but that was nothing compared to his anxiety at the sudden realization he might have lost something far more precious while fighting the flames. Hurriedly, he felt in the pocket and pulled out Letty’s note, to find the fire had charred it around the edges but it was still intact. Piers touched the paper to his lips in a gesture of relief and began to retrace his steps to his carriage.

 

During breakfast the next morning, Letty watched Alyssa carefully, noting her companion’s complexion was tinged with colour and a smile played constantly around her lips.

‘Did everything go well last evening, Lyssa?’ she ventured finally.

‘Yes, very well.’

‘What did you think of Sir Giles’s sister, and her husband?’

‘Marianne and Oliver are delightful. They are returning home today but would like to meet you on their next visit.’

‘I’ll be happy to, if I have not left for London. Did Sir Giles keep his promise to show you the rose garden?’

Alyssa flushed even deeper pink. ‘He did; he arranged for dinner to be served there.’

‘Oh? I expect that was pleasant.’

‘Very,’ said Alyssa, on a faint sigh.

Letty hid a smile, and said insouciantly, ‘You seem to find his company agreeable.’

Alyssa looked up then and exclaimed, ‘Oh, I cannot hide my feelings! I don’t know how much you suspect, Letty, but things have changed: Gil told me last night that he loves me, and has done for weeks. He has no intention of marrying Caroline Nash.’

Letty grinned. ‘And you love him in return.’

It was a statement not a question. ‘Yes, but how could you know?’ said Alyssa. ‘I have been subconsciously fighting against it because I thought he cared for Miss Nash.’

‘You told me yourself when you were ill. You said many things in your
delirium
, some of which I could not understand, but your love for Gil was
unmistakable
. I did not think it right to mention it before now.’

‘Did I?’ Alyssa gave a little laugh and pressed her palms to her hot cheeks. ‘It seems my heart knew even then.’

‘I am truly happy for you, Lyssa.’

‘Everything is not quite settled. Gil is obliged to break with Miss Nash and explain to her father first. He intends to do so on Thursday.’

‘Oh, but in that case, do you think should we still attend their party?’ said Letty, raising her brows. ‘Caroline will be furious when she hears she is not to be Lady Maxton.’

‘I have been wondering about that myself,’ said Alyssa. ‘I will ask Gil’s advice, but I think we must go unless Miss Nash or her family retract the invitations.’

‘Well, at least our gowns are finished and you are in such high beauty you will put everyone in the shade.’

‘Not you!’ she replied. ‘Only wait until Piers sees how lovely you look!’

A shadow crossed Letty’s face.

Alyssa sighed and said, ‘It does not seem right you should be miserable when I am so happy, but Piers knows he made a fool of himself. I believe he loves you, Letty, and is trying to change. There is much that is good in Piers and you are the one to reveal it. Do not lose faith in him.’

‘I won’t, but I shall insist he keeps to his word.’ She looked at Alyssa. ‘What of Charles? You must tell him about you and Gil.’

‘I’ll write, and if he wishes to see me afterwards, I cannot, in fairness, prevent it, although I do not relish a meeting under the circumstances.’

Letty chuckled and said, ‘I don’t suppose Charles would relish meeting Gil either! Does Gil plan to call here today?’

‘Yes, this afternoon,’ she replied, adding happily, ‘and it won’t be a moment too soon!’

 

On Thursday, Squire Nash escaped to his study after a generous lunch. Feeling decidedly mellow, when a knock at the door interrupted his reverie, he muttered a curse and a comment about a man finding no peace, even in his own home. He said ‘Enter’ and tried to shuffle his newspaper into a drawer, until Simmons announced it was Sir Giles. Relieved, he exclaimed when he saw his visitor, ‘Good to see you, m’boy.’ Waving one hand towards the chair, he urged, ‘Sit down! Simmons told me you would call.’ Grimacing, he continued, ‘Lord, now Eugenie wants a high-perch phaeton like her sister. Monstrous thing! Eugenie’s a terrible whip and although Caroline’s a fair one, she’d overturn it in a trice – it’s a show vehicle and no use on Dorset roads. At least we can speak sensibly, and I’m glad you have come.’

‘You may not think so when you learn the reason for my visit.’

‘Oh? What’s wrong?’ He said urgently, ‘Miss Paradise hasn’t suffered a relapse, has she?’

Gil smiled fleetingly. ‘No, thank God, but I need to speak to you, even though the timing, with your evening party tomorrow, could hardly be worse. However, what I have to say cannot wait, Henry.’

‘Then you had best continue,’ said the squire, leaning back again and making a steeple of his fingers.

‘Although you and I have never spoken of it, you must be aware over the last year an understanding has been allowed to develop between Caroline and myself. In short, she is hopeful of receiving a proposal of marriage, but I have to tell you no such offer will be forthcoming – now, or in the future. Indeed, I have been sadly remiss, and foolish, for allowing this situation to go unchecked. I never misled Caroline with promises or words of love, but—’

‘She expected an offer anyway?’ interpolated Henry.

Gil nodded, his expression sombre. ‘Partly because I did not quash it,
expectation
has grown until everyone within twenty miles believes we are to be married.’

‘That is Caroline’s doing,’ said the squire firmly. ‘She’s very clever at it – laying hints and suggestions that are taken as fact.’ He looked at Gil. ‘I never thought it would happen though.’

‘You didn’t?’ murmured Gil.

‘No. I always believed you would realize eventually it wasn’t right. I probably shouldn’t say so but I’m glad you have – I’m only surprised it took you until now.’

Astonished, Gil cried, ‘
You are glad?’

‘Yes, m’boy. Oh, there’s no one I’d rather have as a son-in-law, but the plain fact is you aren’t suited. Caroline has her good qualities: she respects her parents, is a stickler for the proprieties – not always a bad thing in these increasingly
licentious
times – and doesn’t cause us any worries. However, she’s also too cold and proud for my liking – some w ould call it arrogance – and that I don’t approve of. It reminds me of her maternal grandmother, my motherin-law.’

He stared into mid-distance, deep in thought. ‘She’s dead now, God rest her soul, but Lady Blackstock was as proud and disagreeable a woman as you could hope to meet. Didn’t think I was good enough for Eugenie and made her feelings plain, in spite of my having a reasonable estate and fortune to offer. Eugenie had to coax her father for months to get him to agree to us marrying, and still her ladyship fought to stop it, right up until the banns were read. Ah, but we were so much in love – not even Lady Blackstock’s objections could have stopped us,’ he said, smiling at the memory. ‘I do believe Eugenie would have eloped if I had asked her to, but her father had the good sense to agree to the match and here we are, almost thirty years later, still happy enough.’

He regarded Gil directly once more and continued, ‘Now, I know my Eugenie is a touch organizing. She also gossips too much and nurtures foolish ideas about status foisted on her by Caroline but, for all that, she has a good heart and I love her dearly. I’ve tried to say what I think of Caroline’s arrogance, but Eugenie would never have a word said against her little pet and it’s too late now.’ The squire gave a wry grin. ‘I’ll always love my daughter, but I don’t always like the way she behaves, Gil. Caroline is not for the one for you. She needs a quiet mouse of a man who’ll not complain when she orders him about, or better still, a pompous prig who places as much store by social position as she does. She’ll not be happily married unless she has one or the other – and you are neither.’

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