106. Love's Dream in Peril (13 page)

“Not at all,” Adella replied and she forced herself to continue. “I have not agreed to marry Lord Ranulph.”

“What? Still playing with him! You’ve a nerve.”

And then he laughed out loud. Adella was shocked, as she had not heard her uncle laugh like that before.

“Well – Adella. Don’t keep him waiting too long. He is undoubtedly boiling over with impatience. A most impetuous young man. I hate to think what he would do if you turned him down again.”

Uncle Edgar pulled out a large pocket handkerchief and wiped his face, which had turned rather red.

“And I am impatient as well, miss! I would like to have this engagement in the bag before too long. Make sure this is the last time you keep him on tenterhooks.”

Adella took a deep breath and was about to tell her uncle once again that she had no intention of ever marrying Lord Ranulph, but he was now walking out of the drawing room, shaking his head and chuckling to himself.

Why did he think it so funny that Lord Ranulph cared for her so much and that she had refused him?

One thing was certain, once Uncle Edgar knew the truth of her feelings, he would not be amused at all, but coldly and furiously angry.

It would almost be easier to convince her would-be fiancé that she would never, never accept his proposal and especially now he had seen her in the Square with Digby.

Adella closed her eyes and pictured Lord Ranulph’s strong features and the solemn expression that was often to be seen on his face and knew her task would not be easy.

But she had to go through with it, as she could never be his wife.

Once he knew the truth he would understand and would withdraw his proposal. If only he would call on her again soon, as she would have no rest until she told him.

Adella waited by the window of her bedroom all through that afternoon, but Lord Ranulph did not come.

She passed the time by writing to Jane, telling her about Lord Ranulph’s proposal and explaining that she could not accept it.

She did not write anything about her meeting with Digby as how could she possibly describe how wonderful it had been and the extraordinary happiness she had felt.

She would wait and tell her friend in person when she came to London.

For, just before she sealed the letter and sent it to the post, Adella did not forget to add a postscript, telling Jane that Mrs. Dryden was looking for a Governess.

That night Adella lay awake for many hours, her cheek buried in the folds of Digby’s handkerchief, until she fell into a troubled sleep, her last thought being that surely Lord Ranulph would call tomorrow.

But he did not. Nor did he come the next day or the day after that, until a whole week had passed and Uncle Edgar was very angry with Adella indeed.

“See what your foolishness has done,” he shouted at dinner one night. “That’ll teach you to play hard to get!”

Adella longed more than ever for the comfort of Digby’s arms around her, as she felt so alone as she sat at table and endured her uncle’s bitter sarcastic comments.

*

The elegant drawing room at No. 90 Dorset Square was a world away from the hustle and bustle of Mottram’s School for Young Ladies, Jane thought.

Mrs. Dryden sat opposite her, looking through the letter of application that Jane had sent to her.

Her brown hair was arranged in a neat chignon and she seemed all grace and simplicity, although she looked worn and tired and her voice was soft and low.

“You say you have not been a Governess before?”

“No, ma’am.”

“My younger children are very lively. It will take a person of character and experience to keep them in order and impart some learning to them.”

Jane explained that she was accustomed to dealing with excitable pupils at her previous job as a teacher.

“You have brought references with you, I assume?” Mrs. Dryden held out her hand.

Jane blushed. This was difficult. She had asked Mrs. Mottram several times if she might apply for a post as Governess, but her requests had always been refused.

She could not tell Mrs. Dryden that this morning she had run away from Mottram’s School and that the bag which she had left next to the umbrella stand in the hall contained all her worldly possessions.

There was a sudden commotion outside the door of the drawing room, a scuffling of feet and whispering.

Mrs. Dryden rose and went to the door.

“Ned. Agnes. What is going on?”

“We want to see the Governess!” Jane heard a girl’s voice asking.

“Not now, my dears. Where is Digby? Can he not take you out for a ride on the ponies we have been lent?”

“He is studying in his room,” the child’s voice said despondently.

Mrs. Dryden sighed.

“Yes, he is. But perhaps, Ned, you may interrupt him for an hour or so. Tell him that I told you to do so. I must have peace and quiet to conduct my interview.”

For a brief instant Jane saw two little heads peer round the door and then there was a thud of departing feet.

“Please, children. Don’t run while you are inside the house,” Mrs. Dryden called after them.

She came back to her chair and looked at Jane.

“You can see that they are quite a handful.”

Jane’s skin was tingling. Had she just heard Mrs. Dryden say ‘Digby’? And was that not Digby Dryden the name of the young man she and Adella had met in Oxford?

Could it be the same person? Surely it had to be!

She quickly composed herself.

“Yes, ma’am, they seem very lively, but I think that the best way with young children is to keep them busy and happy and to harness their natural energies without losing any of their liveliness is what I always strive to do.”

Mrs. Dryden raised her eyebrows.

“The others I have interviewed for the post have been in favour of a stricter regime of discipline and order.”

“I can only speak from experience,” Jane said. Her heart was suddenly beating painfully fast.

Mrs. Dryden seemed to have forgotten all about the references, but what would she do if the lady decided not to employ her?

She had only a very little money hidden inside her case. Just enough for a few days of board and lodging.

But Mrs. Dryden’s face was suddenly illuminated with a smile.

“I shall take a chance on you, Miss Hartley,” she said. “You are modest and quiet and yet I sense a strength and a wisdom in you that will stand you in good stead with my rambunctious horde. You may have a month’s trial.”

Jane was so surprised and delighted that she found herself trembling. She raised her hands to her face to calm herself.

“Thank you, Mrs. Dryden,” she managed to say after a while. “I will endeavour to fulfil your expectations.”

Mrs. Dryden asked if Jane would care to commence her employment immediately and, when she heard Jane’s affirmative reply, her tired face brightened even more.

“Come, let me show you to your room. I expect you will prefer to take your meals there rather than with the servants. The young man who is staying with us, Digby, a distant cousin of my husband’s and, who studies and works with him in Chambers, prefers to do that.

“What a sad story,” she continued. “The young man has lost his inheritance and now has to support his family.”

Jane nodded, her head spinning as she took it all in.

“I shall send up some dinner for you, Miss Hartley, and you may meet the children in the morning, when you are rested.”

“Thank you very much, Mrs. Dryden,” Jane said, feeling lightheaded with relief at the thought of living in this spacious house and working for this gentle woman, so different to bad-tempered Mrs. Mottram.

“The Judge and I are dining out,” Mrs. Dryden told her. “And then we are going to the opera. I shall see you tomorrow.”

Jane thanked her once again and looked around the pleasant little bedroom, complete with desk and chair that was to be hers while she worked for the Drydens.

“Thank you, dearest Adella,” she whispered.

She pulled out the crumpled letter she had received a few days before and pored over it again.

So Lord Ranulph had proposed and Adella had turned him down.

Jane was really longing to hear all about what had happened. She must try and speak to her friend at the first opportunity, just as soon as she had come to grips with her new post as Governess.

*

On the very same evening that Jane took up residence at the Drydens’ house, Lady Ireton was preparing to attend a dinner party followed by a visit to the opera.

Her toilette took longer these days than when she was a young woman. But it was worth taking extra trouble to have her maid dress her hair so that the grey hairs were hidden and a little discreet rouge added to her cheeks.

Lady Ireton was still a good-looking woman with glowing eyes and high cheekbones, but the bloom of youth, alas, could never be quite perfectly recaptured.

She told her maid to bring the tinted lip salve and then move the candle so it did not shine quite so brightly on her face.

She found herself thinking of the exquisite little girl with the golden hair, who had attracted so much attention at her ball.

What was her name? Adella, was it?
She
would not have to worry, however strong a light shone on her dewy soft young cheeks.

And what had happened between her and Lord Ranulph? Lady Ireton always looked through the marriage announcements in
The Times
, but there had been nothing about any engagement.

And who was the young man that Lord Ranulph had caught Adella with that afternoon when he had come galloping along Rotten Row in such distress?

A young devil of a fortune-hunter, no doubt, for the girl would have a large income when she came of age. It was most annoying that no snippets of gossip on this had reached her ears recently.

As the maid fastened a gold-and-emerald collar around her neck, Lady Ireton remembered with pleasure that Judge Dryden would be one of the party this evening.

A witty and charming man. The conversation was always most stimulating and amusing when he was present.

And did he not live on Dorset Square, not far from young Adella and her odd old uncle? Surely he must know something about what was going on in their household.

Even if he knew nothing, she could talk to him, put him on the scent, as it were, and then see if he could flush anything out, since he lived so close by.

Lady Ireton’s spirits lifted. It was going to be a most interesting and entertaining evening.

*

“Jane! You cannot know how pleased I am to see you!” Adella cried, some days after Lady Ireton and the Drydens had attended the opera.

It was somewhat gloomy in the drawing room this morning, as the old butler had again pulled the curtains across to block out the sunshine.

Adella was feeling so low and miserable that she had not even bothered to pull them back a little to brighten up the room.

It was almost two weeks now since she had last seen Lord Ranulph, although he had sent flowers to her several times. A great bunch was lying on the sofa beside her, pink and cream roses and scented white carnations.

Each time a bouquet arrived, Adella’s heart leapt in the hope that it might have come from Digby. But always the card bore Lord Ranulph’s bold signature. No note or message for her, just his name, scrawled in black ink.

At least the arrival of the flowers helped to improve Uncle Edgar’s temper, but the longer Lord Ranulph stayed away the more irritable he became.

This morning at breakfast he had not even looked at Adella, let alone spoken to her.

It was a great relief to see Jane’s familiar face, smiling through the gloom and she jumped up and ran to hug her friend.

“Jane! Darling Jane. How are you?”

“Adella, I am so grateful to you for telling me to write to Mrs. Dryden. I cannot believe how happy I am in my new post.”

“So all is well with you?”

“I am busy with the children almost every moment of the day, which is why I have taken so long to come and call on you. You look so pale, Adella, is anything wrong?”

The kindness in Jane’s eyes was suddenly too much to bear and Adella had to sit down on the sofa and hide her face in her hands.

Jane put an arm around her shoulders.

“What is it?” she asked.

“I-I have done something terrible,” Adella moaned, when she had recovered herself a little.

“What could you have done that would be so bad?”

“I am so unhappy, Jane, and I have caused so much trouble,” Adella murmured and tears welled up in her eyes.

“But how?”

“You remember I told you in my letter that Lord Ranulph asked me to marry him and I said that I could not? Well, now my uncle is very angry. He insists that I must accept the proposal and I absolutely cannot – I just want to see Lord Ranulph and tell him so, as I am sure that he must understand, but he does not come to call and – ”

Her words tumbled over each other and suddenly her tears were falling unchecked.

Jane saw that there was a handkerchief lying on the sofa and she picked it up to mop her friend’s wet cheeks.

She took it and gently blotted her friend’s face. As she did, Jane saw that the initials ‘DD’ were embroidered on the corner of the handkerchief.

“Adella – what’s this? Where did you get it?”

Adella picked it up and pressed it to her cheek.

“Oh, Jane, I think I am – I know I am in love! I have been ever since those last days in Oxford.”

“It’s Digby, isn’t it?” Jane felt suddenly uneasy.

Adella’s face lit up. It was as if the sun had come out from behind the clouds and filled her with its golden glow.

“Yes,” she sighed. “And I have found him again! I cannot believe it. I thought he had forgotten me, but he is here under the same roof as you are in the Judge’s house. You must have seen him, surely?”

Jane shook her head.

“No, Adella. I thought it must be the same young man we met in Oxford, when Mrs. Dryden mentioned his name. But he is always at work in the Judge’s Chambers and I am always with the children. We take our meals in our rooms and I haven’t seen him.”

“Jane, why are you looking so sombre?” Adella’s eyes were still shining with joy. “Poor Digby, he told me that his father has died and – that is why he did not write to me, as he promised he would do when we left Oxford.”