A Reason to Rebel (5 page)

“But how can she meet me if she does not wish for a companion?”

“We must invent a history of misfortune for you.”

“It hardly requires invention.”

“Lady Crawley has the greatest good nature and softest heart imaginable. If she were to think you had been treated unjustly she would adopt you as her pet project in the blink of an eye.”

“I would not wish to deceive her.”

“We will merely embellish the truth,” said Susanna with an airy wave of her hand. “We will say that you have been unwell and your hard-hearted mistress dismissed you from your previous position without a character, just because your poor health prevented you from discharging your duties for a few weeks.” Estelle shook her head. “You certainly look unwell, so that part is true. But, of course, if you would prefer to return to your father rather than indulge in a tiny untruth—”

“All right.” Estelle, who considered it to be a great deal more than a tiny falsehood, wondered if in all conscience she would be able to go through with the scheme when the time came. “If you think it will work. I will try anything rather than subject myself to my father’s tyranny again.”

“I am delighted to see you exerting yourself at last.”

“He has pushed me too far this time and given me a reason to rebel.”

“Good girl! I am persuaded that our scheme will certainly work. It is as though it was meant to be. And Sussex is much closer to Ramsgate than Hertford. It is also much closer to me in Kent.”

“That is true.” But Estelle was still dubious about the proposal.

“Young ladies,” proclaimed Susanna in a perfect imitation of Miss Frobisher’s voice, “if you pay heed to the wisdom imparted to you in this establishment you will be equipped to achieve anything that you set your minds to when you quit it.”

Estelle giggled. “You have certainly proved her point, Susanna. You have secured a highborn gentleman for a husband, and it is clear to anyone who has seen you together that you are madly in love.”

“I am deliriously happy. But we will be at leisure to discuss my domestic felicity once we are safely installed at Fairlands. Before then we have work to do. Come, let us pack you a valise and we will leave first thing in the morning. We should reach Kent before nightfall if you shall not mind making an early start.”

“Not in the least, I assure you.”

The girls repaired to Estelle’s chamber, where Martha appeared so quickly that she could only have been prowling the corridor, on the lookout for them.

“This room gives me the creeps,” said Susanna shuddering.

“And I.”

“Then why do you not move to another in a different part of the house?”

Estelle lifted her shoulders but had no answer to give.

“Oh, silly me, you could not move whilst your husband was still alive since he would have expected you to occupy the room next to his. And since his death you have not wished to give the servants the trouble of making up a different chamber.” Susanna sighed and wagged a finger beneath her nose. “You must learn to be more assertive, Estelle.”

“What are you doing?” Martha addressed the question to Susanna, who was pulling garments randomly from the armoire. She made faces at the dull black material of the mourning gowns and threw them aside in favour of brighter coloured gowns.

“Mrs. Travis is going on a journey.”

“Aye, that she is. She’s going to her father’s house next week.”

“Wrong,” said Susanna in a careless tone that Estelle would give much to be able to emulate in her dealings with Martha. Her hateful maid had been appointed by her father. She had a tongue as sharp as a razor, deferred to no one and even Mrs. Keller was wary of crossing her. “Mrs. Travis will be staying with me for a while.”

“No one told me about this.”

“I did not realize your permission was necessary.”

“The master won’t like it.”

“Oh really.” Susanna turned, arms akimbo, and glared down at her. “And who precisely is Mrs. Travis’s master?”

“I meant her father,” said Martha sullenly.

“Send word to him. I am confident you know how to contact him. You may inform him that he can collect Mrs. Travis from my husband’s estate upon his return to Hampshire.”

“Very well, but it don’t seem right, her gadding about so soon after losing her husband. Still, if your heart’s set on it.” She turned towards Estelle, who nodded once. “You’d better let me do that then,” she grumbled, trying to edge Susanna aside. “And she can’t wear those gowns, she’s in mourning.”

“No thank you, Martha, we do not need your help. Now go.” Martha hovered, her face a study in disapproval. “Get out!” The authority in Susanna’s tone finally caused the servant to slink from the room.

As soon as the door closed behind her, Estella and Susanna collapsed on the bed in a fit of giggles.

“I wish I could talk to her like that.”

“Practice, that’s all it takes.”

“She’s right though, I cannot wear bright gowns.” Estelle glanced regretfully at the emerald silk Susanna was in the throes of packing.

“Oh, but you can. You cannot go to Lady Crawley under your real name or your whereabouts will be discovered in no time at all. And you obviously cannot be in mourning either. Trust me, darling, to know what is best for you.”

“Well, anyone who can get the better of Martha deserves some respect. Don’t forget this.” Estelle threw her favourite shawl on the pile to be packed.

“Ah, what memories.” Susanna picked up the shawl and held it against her face. “I remember precisely what we were doing as you set each exquisite stitch.”

“I was embroidering, just as I was supposed to be, but you seldom were.” Susanna pulled a face. “I remember one occasion upon which you spent the entire period sewing the armpits of Lucy Gibbons’ favourite gown together in revenge for…” Estelle paused. “What had Lucy done? I do not recall.”

Susanna grinned. “She informed Miss Talbot that you had helped me with the household accounting she set me as a punishment, the spiteful witch!”

“Ah yes, that was it.” Estelle sighed. “Miss Frobisher’s Academy seems a world away now. How innocent and uncomplicated our lives were then. I remember seeing you for the first time. Marianne and I were enchanted. You seemed like an exotic butterfly to us. We were quite in awe of you.”

Susanna laughed. “Nonsense!”

“Oh, but we were. You added a new dimension to our limited knowledge of the world. You were so beautiful and self-assured that we felt quite dowdy by comparison. Your lively spirit and irreverent attitude towards authority was like a breath of fresh air. We had never seen anything quite like it in our narrow world.”

“That is hardly to be wondered at, given the way your father ruled the roost with a rod of iron and eradicated all traces of spontaneity from your characters.”

“What happened to the shawl which you were making when I sewed this one?”

“It is being used as lining in the puppy’s basket, which is about all it is fit for. I never could embroider to save my life, Estelle, you know that. But you,” she added, still lovingly fingering Estelle’s shawl, “you could make a living out of it.”

“I may yet have to.”

“Nonsense.” Susanna briskly folded a petticoat and placed it on the bed. “We will resolve your problems together. It will be like old times. And who knows, you might come across Matthew as well.”

“What do you mean? I have not heard from him for a year. Do you have a letter you forget to mention?” Matthew had directed all his letters to his sisters at Susanna’s family home, knowing if he wrote to them in Hampshire the missives would not reach them.

“No, but what about the letter I gave to Marianne a few days before I was married? What news did that impart?”

“What?” Estelle sank heavily onto the side of the bed. “What letter?”

“She did not tell you?”

“No. When she came to see me that last time, she said she had wonderful news. But then we argued about Mr. Cowper and she stormed out.” Estelle paused. “Could it have been something Matthew said in his letter? How could she not have told me?”

“Well, something tells me that if we find Marianne, we will also find Matthew. How else could a young girl alone disappear without a trace?”

Estelle could think of several ways but for superstition’s sake did not voice her fears. “I hope I do not have to go to Jamaica, Susanna.”

“That will not be necessary, darling.” She smiled at Estelle’s confusion. “Did I not make myself clear? Matthew’s letter did not originate in Jamaica. It was posted in Dover.”

Chapter Four

“Oh dear, how terrible!”

“Bad news, Mother?” Alex strolled into Lady Crawford’s sitting room, dressed for riding in breeches and top boots.

“Yes indeed, from Mrs. Cleethorpe.”

“Susanna?” Alex raised a brow. “What ails her, pray? She seemed well enough when she was here the other day.”

“Oh, it is not her. She is in good health and writes very prettily to thank me for including her in my house party. What a silly goose! As if we could exclude her and dear Michael from any of our little entertainments. It was such a shame they could not stay longer. Young people are always in such a tearing hurry nowadays.”

“Then what does Susanna have to say that so distresses you?” Alex knew the answer was not likely to be straightforward. His mother was perfectly capable of going off on several tangents simultaneously if he did not keep her focused in the right direction. He swished the tails of his coat aside with a practiced flip of his wrist and seated himself as he waited for her to get to the point.

“She mentions a young lady who was until recently employed by a neighbour of hers as governess. Oh dear!” She scanned a little more of Susanna’s letter and shook her head. She looked genuinely distressed. “It seems she has been unwell for some weeks. Nothing contagious, apparently, just a debilitating fever that has sapped the poor girl’s strength. The dreadful neighbour has lost patience because she has not recovered as quickly as she ought and has turned her away without a character.”

“How shocking.” Alex forced his lips not to quirk, even as he allowed himself to be impressed. Susanna certainly did not waste time. He hadn’t really imagined she would be able to do anything about his mother’s stubborn determination not to take a companion. But she appeared to have risen to the challenge, hit upon the answer and lost no time in its instigation. “What does Mrs. Cleethorpe intend to do about the girl?”

“Well, that is just her difficulty, you see. She does not know quite what to do and writes to ask my advice. She would keep her at Fairlands but, of course, Michael’s sisters already have a governess. Besides, the girl is still too weak to undertake the education of such lively charges and would just be in the way.”

“Perhaps she could stay at Fairlands until she has completely recovered and then seek another position?”

“No, Mrs. Cleethorpe says she has considered that possibility but it will not serve. Fairlands is so full and noisy, the girl would scarce get any rest. Besides, how can she seek another position without a character? People can be so wicked. It quite makes me want to stamp my foot.”

“Do not resort to such extreme measures, Mother, I beg of you,” said Alex, failing this time to suppress his mirth. “Since she has asked for your guidance you would do much better to apply your mind to finding a solution to Mrs. Cleethorpe’s difficulty. It is just the sort of problem you usually excel at.”

“Do you think so? Well, perhaps you are right, but in this case I do not quite know what to suggest. It does seem rather hopeless. The poor child obviously needs peace and quiet and I can quite see how that would be difficult to achieve at Fairlands, what with Michael’s brothers and sisters being so delightfully boisterous.”

Alex arched a brow. Delightful was not how he would describe the behaviour of Michael’s high-spirited siblings. But he knew better than to distract his mother by entering into a debate on the issue.

“Besides, where would they sleep the girl?” She frowned, completely taken up with the problem of the unfortunate governess’s plight. “She is not exactly a servant but could not be classed as one of the family, either. And then there are the feelings of Miss Gallagher to take into account. She has been the governess at Fairlands for years. She might feel slighted if another member of her profession were to be introduced into the household. Oh dear, it is all so complicated.”