Spoiled (15 page)

‘It has been his dream,' Miss Buckleigh agreed. ‘My father is very much an academic, Miss Leicester. He does not really need or even want other people around him, unless they are scholars. Such people are quite difficult to live with.'

‘I am sure that they must be. However, I am certain that he made sure you had a good education.'

‘Oh yes,' Theodora agreed. ‘I know Latin and some Greek, and have also studied Mathematics.'

‘Do you know French and Italian?' Miss Leicester asked.

‘The former yes, the latter, no.'

‘And do you paint or draw?'

Michael laughed. ‘Miss Leicester, you sound very earnest: are you interviewing her for some post?'

The teacher laughed, flushing a little. ‘By no means,' she answered a little self-consciously. ‘It is just that I expect Miss Buckleigh will be
wanting to make her own way in the world before too long. I would be more than happy to advise her about the kind of post that she could be looking for.'

Michael raised his brows and lifted his chin in a completely unconsciously arrogant gesture, for this was not the first time that Miss Leicester had made this inference. ‘My sister will not be going out to work while I can prevent it,' he said firmly.

‘I can assure you that I am no clinging vine, Miss Leicester,' put in Theodora, sitting up straight. ‘I have every intention of housekeeping for my brother.'

‘Yes, of course,' Miss Leicester replied, wanting to retrieve her position. ‘Naturally I would never try to interfere in your concerns.'

‘I would never have supposed it, Miss Leicester,' Michael said politely.

Miss Leicester offered them more tea then added, ‘By the way, I thought that I had assured you that you could call me Juliana?'

‘You did indeed. I had not forgotten. However, it has occurred to me that people in our situations ought to be very guarded about their reputations. Perhaps we agreed to use Christian names too soon.'

‘Perhaps,' Miss Leicester replied, not looking entirely pleased.

The visitors finished their tea, but did not linger for more than the correct half-hour. ‘She seems very pleasant, but a little managing,' said Theodora, after they had left. Michael smiled. A number of childhood illnesses, together with receiving her education at the hands of a comparatively old, scholarly father, had given Theodora a maturity of outlook that some eighteen-year-olds lacked.

‘She is, isn't she?' Michael responded ruefully. ‘I hadn't noticed that before. As if I would let you go out to work.'

‘You might not have had a choice if I did not have something to come to me from Father.'

‘She has been very friendly towards me, though. She has even ironed my vestments.'

‘Very wifely,' remarked Theodora.

‘I beg your pardon?' said Michael, as much alarmed as taken aback.

‘I'm sorry,' said his sister colouring. ‘I was only thinking that Miss Leicester would not need to do so now that I am in residence. What's more, I shall be able to warn off all the young ladies who are beating a path to your door,' she added playfully.

‘Why do you think I wanted you to come so soon?' he asked, trying not to sound anxious. Theodora had confirmed his own latent fears
and reminded him of the warning that Miss Granby had given him earlier.

The walk back to the cottage was uphill; by the time they were close to home, Theodora's limp had got worse.

‘Don't fuss, Michael,' she said. ‘I'm not in pain – or at least, not very much. Just give me your arm and I shall manage splendidly.'

They were negotiating the last incline when the jingling of harness was heard. Miss Belton approached, driving a one-horse gig, accompanied by her groom. She smiled brightly. ‘Good day,' she cried. ‘I had heard that you had arrived, Miss Buckleigh, and I have come to welcome you to the dis—' Her voice faded as Theodora took a few steps forward, smiling in response. Miss Belton's eyes were fixed upon what she could see of the newcomer's feet. ‘—trict,' she finished, a little faintly.

‘That is very good of you,' said Michael, his lips tightening a little. ‘We have just been visiting Miss Leicester. Pray come inside and sit with us.'

‘Thank you, but I cannot stay for long,' Amelia replied, her smile a little fixed. She did come in and join them, but after that first anguished stare, she took great care not to look anywhere near Theodora's feet.

‘Why do people have to be so ridiculous?' Michael demanded, after she had gone. ‘Anyone would think that you had two heads.'

‘They are supposed to be better than one,' Theodora reminded him with a rather unconvincing laugh. Suddenly Michael felt guilty. In the village where they had always lived, people were so accustomed to Theodora's limp that they had ceased to remark upon it. Only the occasional visitor might stare. He had forgotten how coming to a new place might expose her to unwelcome scrutiny, and he felt at once angry and protective. How many other people would make her feel awkward because of their own stupidity? He hoped desperately that Evangeline Granby would not be one of them.

 

In the event, his next encounter with Miss Granby had nothing whatsoever to do with Theodora; for when Miss Granby rode into the village the following day on an errand for her mother, she chanced to see Miss Leicester outside the school and dismounted in order to speak to her. On this occasion, Evangeline was very properly accompanied by her groom and, as she was about to leave after a brief conversation, Miss Leicester commented on the fact, remarking that Mr Buckleigh would be glad to see it.

‘He was very concerned when you decided to go riding with Lieutenant Fellowes without a chaperon,' she said.

‘Indeed,' Evangeline answered coldly.

‘You must not be surprised that he should choose to share his anxiety with me,' Miss Leicester assured her kindly, laying a hand on Miss Granby's blue velvet sleeve. ‘Remember that we are of similar standing in the neighbourhood. In addition, Michael – that is, Mr Buckleigh – and I have become quite close.' She lowered her eyes coyly. ‘It is only natural that he should want to ask my advice.'

‘And what advice did you give, Miss Leicester?' Evangeline asked, her tone civil and pleasant, but her eyes cold.

‘I reminded him that a young woman needs to be careful of her reputation, ' answered the teacher, ‘but I am sure you know that.'

Evangeline could barely speak for rage as she rode back up the main street of the village. That Michael should be placed in authority was bad enough; that he should discuss her with the village schoolmistress was intolerable. The ride did nothing to cool her temper, so consequently when she got down from her horse at the curate's cottage, she was fairly boiling. It was something of an anticlimax when her groom rapped on the door to have it opened by a fair-haired young woman whom she had never met before.

For a moment or two, Evangeline was completely nonplussed. Then eventually she said, ‘I beg your pardon. I was wondering whether I might speak to Mr Buckleigh?' She was aware that as she uttered the curate's name she was almost grinding her teeth.

‘I'm afraid not,' the young woman replied. ‘My brother has gone over to the church. Would you like to step inside, Miss…?'

‘Miss Granby,' Evangeline replied. ‘Welcome to Illingham, Miss Buckleigh. Thank you very much, but I cannot stay. I have a very urgent need to speak to your brother.'

She must have sounded rather aggressive, for Miss Buckleigh stepped backwards a little awkwardly, her hand to her throat. ‘To speak to him?' she echoed.

‘To murder him, actually,' replied Evangeline, before turning to stride hastily in the direction of the church, leaving her groom with a terse command to take care of the horses until her return.

 

Michael had formed the habit of going to the vestry in the church in order to write his sermons and prepare other work. He had been very tempted to change his routine when Theodora arrived, but reluctantly
he decided against it. Doubtless when winter came, he would study at home, but for now, it was important that his parishioners should see that he was just as diligent when his sister was living with him, as when he had been a bachelor living alone. As he had walked to the church that very morning, he had looked again at the handsome vicarage standing empty and sighed. It seemed such a waste. If he were the vicar, now, and not simply the curate, he would at least have something to offer a future bride.

He noted ruefully that his thoughts travelled directly from this notion to the person of Evangeline Granby. He remembered how severe he had been with her when he had visited Granby Park. Now that his first anger had worn off, he was obliged to acknowledge that most of it had been due to jealousy. His only hope was that she would not guess his feelings. How she would laugh at him! Whatever happened, he must master this. With an enormous effort of will-power, he dragged his mind away from this tantalizing subject as he entered the church.

Once in his vestry he sat for a long time with his Bible open, some blank sheets of paper in front of him and a quill in his hand, whilst he gazed into space. Then, determinedly, he found the passage allotted for the following Sunday and bent his mind to his task. He was wrestling with a particularly difficult interpretation when he heard the sound of footsteps in the church and stood up in order to investigate. He had only taken a few steps away from the desk, when the door was pushed open with some vigour and Miss Granby came striding in, her eyes aflame.

‘How dare you!' she demanded.

‘I beg your pardon?'

‘You might well,' she retorted. ‘Bad enough that you should take it upon yourself to censure my conduct; to discuss it with someone else is the outside of enough!'

Michael had been thinking exactly the same thing, but perversely her accusations made him want to defend his actions. ‘I suppose you mean Miss Leicester,' he replied.

‘Why? Have you been gossiping about my concerns with any other people?' she demanded.

‘I have not been gossiping,' he responded, his cheekbones touched with spots of colour. ‘There is nothing unreasonable in wanting to share anxieties with a mature lady.'

‘Believe me, you might share any other matter with Miss Leicester with my good will,' answered Evangeline. ‘I have absolutely no interest in which mature ladies attract your attention.'

‘Miss Leicester does not attract my attention, as you put it,' said Michael angrily.

‘That is not what
she
thinks.' Evangeline replied. ‘She told me that you had become quite close.'

‘Close friends, was her meaning, I have no doubt.'

‘Really? You did not see her eyelashes fluttering downwards!'

‘Don't be so ridiculous,' Michael said scornfully. ‘There is nothing romantic going on between us and, if there were, you may be assured that I should be discreet.'

‘Implying, I suppose, that
my
romantic dealings lack discretion,' declared Evangeline in an accusatory tone.

‘That is not for me to say,' he replied, drawing his lips together.

‘Oh, but it is,' she protested in sarcastic tones. ‘You are my guardian, remember. Pray, give me some instruction. No doubt you have plenty to say with regard to my conduct concerning Jeremy Fellowes.' Her employment of the lieutenant's first name was done with the intention of provoking Michael. She was not to be disappointed.

The curate looked furious. ‘Your use of a man's Christian name when you are only slightly acquainted with him is quite improper for a start,' he said.

‘Oh pooh,' she replied provocatively. ‘He is the nephew of a neighbour – almost a brother, really.'

‘You have not been behaving towards him as though he was a brother.'

‘You have no idea how I have been behaving towards him. When we dined with the Beltons, at least my conversation was perfectly audible to the whole table, unlike the intimate exchange which was going on between you and Amelia.'

‘It was not an intimate exchange.'

‘It certainly looked like one. You were practically sitting on her knee.'

‘Nonsense!' he exclaimed. ‘Anyway, my conduct is not in question.'

‘Well perhaps it ought to be. I would have thought that a clergyman would have felt obliged to set a better example of propriety. But then you are leading at least two young ladies up the garden path, and probably more beside. I wonder what the bishop would say to such behaviour?'

He crossed the room swiftly, catching hold of her arms. ‘Miss Granby, if you speak to the bishop,' he began.

‘You will do what?'

He looked down at her face, turned up towards his, a faint smile
rendering it lovelier than ever. At once, his anger dissolved as he became consumed with passion of quite another kind. Her smile died away and he could see that she was similarly affected. The bishop, Miss Granby's reputation and his own were completely forgotten as he crushed her to him and covered her mouth with his in a long, passionate kiss. She did not struggle. Had she done so, he would have released her immediately. Instead, as he embraced her, she wrapped her arms around his neck and held him closer, making little sounds of appreciation as he deepened the kiss, exploring the inside of her mouth with his tongue. Time melted away and they were both transported back to Sheffield when, as Miss Evans and Mr Leigh, they had been unshackled by questions of restraint and position.

Eventually, something made them draw apart, both breathless. They became aware almost at the same time of a rustling sound from inside the church. ‘Did you hear that?' Michael asked.

‘Yes. What was it?'

‘I'm not sure.' Michael released her and walked to the door into the church in order to investigate. Hurriedly, Evangeline turned away, put her bonnet back on – for it had been pushed off her head during their embrace – and tucked a few stray curls inside. ‘No one there,' he said in a relieved tone.