Stay with Me (12 page)

‘Miss Carnforth, may I say how radiant you look?' He gave her a small bow but his eyes never left hers.

Lena inclined her head in acceptance of his compliment. ‘Thank you, Mr Hustwick, you are most kind.' They started towards the door. ‘Now, what have you planned for today?'

‘I am pleased to see that you have brought a cape. First I'm going to take you along the north bank of the Humber upstream from Hull; there are some fine prospects across the river to Lincolnshire. Then I have a surprise before we go on to dine at a hostelry where I know we'll be well looked after. This afternoon I'll show you something of our town then return you to your hotel before collecting you and your brother to dine with my father this evening.'

‘It sounds as if you have planned this day carefully?'

‘For such a charming young lady, of course.'

As they stepped out of the door Lena saw a chaise with its hood drawn up, attended by two urchins who spoke soothingly to the black mare standing between the shafts.

‘Your carriage awaits you,' said Peter.

Lena swung her cape around her shoulders. Peter led her to the chaise and helped her on to the seat. He turned, tossed a coin to each of the boys and instructed them to hold the horse steady. He then climbed in beside Lena and laid a rug across her lap.

‘Thank you,' she acknowledged the attention.

Peter called to the boys who unhitched the mare from the rail. He took up the reins, flicked them and sent the horse forward. He guided her with unerring accuracy until the animal relaxed once they had moved into open country from which there were wide views across the Humber.

‘You drive well, Mr Hustwick,' Lena commented.

Peter smiled. ‘Thank you for the compliment. Father deemed it necessary so that I could drive him about, chiefly when matters of business demand it.'

‘Does he not use the chaise for pleasure?'

Peter laughed dryly. ‘That is hardly Father's sort of pleasure. '

‘So what is?'

‘His club, good food, good wine and the gaming tables. What he gets up to beyond that, I do not know.'

Lena surmised what that might mean but knew it would not be lady-like to pursue the subject further and asked instead, ‘And you, what are your pleasures?'

‘The countryside. I like using the chaise to explore and enjoy the banks of the Humber beyond our country residence. '

‘You have another house out here?'

‘Yes.' He tightened his lips and scowled. ‘There, I've let it out. That was to be my surprise.' The exasperation in his voice was directed at himself.

‘It will still be a surprise to me, Mr Hustwick.'

He smiled. ‘You are too kind. Please forgive my bad manners.'

‘No offence taken. So which is your principal residence? '

‘Mother loved the country. So did Father until she died. Then it seemed he could not settle here so he moved into our town house. I live out here most of the time.'

‘And go into Hull most days?'

‘Yes, though sometimes I wonder if it is worth it. Father rules the business. He gives me little scope but to follow his ways.' Peter paused slightly, as if he was making a quick review of his life. ‘I suppose I am fortunate enough. We are comfortably off.'

‘You have no further ambition then?'

He shrugged his shoulders. ‘As regards the business, why take on any more worry?'

‘But surely there is more to you than that?'

‘Outside of the firm, I enjoy myself in my own ways.'

‘And what might they be?'

‘I fence.'

‘Any good?'

‘Well, I like to think so. The main thing is, I enjoy it.'

‘Then you must be good, because if you didn't enjoy it you wouldn't do it.'

‘Ah, a thoughtful head on pretty shoulders. Now what about you, Miss Carnforth?'

‘I don't think you have finished, Mr Hustwick.'

‘There's not much more to tell. I ride. I like sailing on the Humber.'

‘You have a boat?'

‘An old coble I found derelict. I had a local joiner make her as good as new, and got two friends interested in sailing her. We have a landing just down from the house.'

‘You had previous experience of sailing then?'

Peter laughed. ‘None! Neither had my friends, but they knew a family of three fishermen who had sailed cobles all their lives and got them to show us how to handle the boat.'

‘So you fish?'

Peter laughed even louder. ‘Good heavens, no! We just sail her for pleasure. This coble's a three-man boat but two of us can handle her for what we want. We'll take you sometime, if you are interested?' The invitation was out before he realised it and so he added quickly, ‘Oh, but that is hardly lady-like. I'm sorry, I . . .'

‘Don't be, Mr Hustwick. I would love to take up your invitation some time.'

‘You would?' Peter's eyes had lit up with delight and surprise.

‘There's no reason why not. Oh, some people may frown, but they're old fuddy-duddies. I think women should have more choice in their lives and not be bound by conventions which really originate from you men wanting things all your own way.'

‘Oh, you are quite the radical I see, Miss Carnforth.'

‘I think we females should stick up for our rights and believe we could contribute much to your man's world.'

‘Did your father bring you up to think like this?'

‘I don't think he would have disapproved of what I have said. He did encourage me to show an interest in his business. '

‘So you help your brother?'

‘No, I am precluded from doing so by my father's Will, though it does stipulate that I am to be kept informed of its workings and progress. So, Mr Hustwick, I hope you will show me the commercial area of Hull this afternoon?'

‘If that is your wish, I certainly will.'

‘I look forward to it.'

Throughout this conversation the horse had been plodding steadily along. Now Peter pulled it to a halt on a flat expanse of turf beside the rutted path.

‘I like the view from here,' he said, indicating the Lincolnshire scene beyond the water.

The sharpness of the air brought clarity to the view, while the sun and white clouds sent shadows chasing across the landscape and a changing light glinting on the water.

Lena looked at her companion, saw he was entranced and knew she should not disturb his absorption. She was most intrigued by the light in his eyes. Did they see far horizons, the haunts of adventure, or were these the eyes merely of a contented dreamer? But even as she wondered that, she felt a strange sensation of being drawn into his world. She did not resist but allowed her gaze to float back across the river. Time drifted away.

‘Enchanting.' The whispered word startled her. She came to as if out of sleep and saw Peter's eyes, filled with admiration, fixed upon her.

Lena blushed and started. ‘Yes, it is, Mr Hustwick,' she spluttered, staring at the view again to evade his attention.

‘Look in a mirror and recall that word, Miss Carnforth.' He flicked the reins and sent the horse on its way.

She did not reply as embarrassment and pleasure mingled with thoughts of what the future might hold. She stiffened then and dismissed such considerations. She had only met this man yesterday; she did not know him, and yet . . .

‘Here we are.' Peter was turning the chaise between open iron gates, hanging from huge stone pillars, on to a grass swath cut through a small wood dense enough to hide what lay ahead. Silence descended. Only the gentle breeze sighed a song of welcome to the Hustwick Estate.

They emerged from the wood and Lena saw the broad path of grass, rutted by carriage wheels, sweep towards an unpretentious two-storey brick-built house, not grand, but big enough for its proportions to be impressive even from this aspect which she judged to be the back, for beyond it she could see the river. Whoever had built it had thoughtfully orientated the façade towards the water. A manicured lawn surrounded the house, and as they took the driveway to the front she saw the well-tended grass continued to roll expansively down to the river.

‘What a beautiful position,' commented Lena. ‘Did your parents choose the site?'

‘No. My maternal grandparents did. They made their money sheep farming in Lincolnshire, built this place, never really settled here and moved back to Lincolnshire when I was four, giving this estate to my mother.'

‘So you were brought up here.'

‘Yes.' Peter drew the horse to a halt. As he stepped to the ground a groom who must have seen them approaching hurried round the end of the house.

‘Good day, sir.' He glanced at Lena and touched his forehead. ‘Miss.'

He held the horse steady as Peter helped Lena from the chaise.

‘A couple of hours, Tom.'

‘Yes, sir.'

‘Should I tell Mrs Nevill you are here, sir?'

‘You can do that, but I suspect she'll have seen us from a back window,' Peter replied with a knowing twinkle in his eyes.

‘I expect she will, sir,' replied Tom, with an answering smile.

‘Mrs Nevill?' queried Lena as Tom led the horse away.

‘Our cook-housekeeper. She looks after the place with the help of three upper maids and a kitchen maid. She is a wonder, was devoted to my mother. Tom is our only groom. The grounds and estate, which are not big by standards around here, are looked after by three men and a boy who live nearby.'

As he was speaking Lena had been casting her eyes over the front of the house. Its proportions were simple with two sash windows set to each side of a charming front door with a fanlight above, all emphasised by a small classical portico with a triangular architrave. Though it was not exceptionally wide, Lena realised from her observations as they approached the house that it was two rooms deep, and with an extension, no doubt housing the kitchen, dairy and scullery at ground level on the east side, would be spacious inside. An opinion that was confirmed when Peter showed her round.

‘Good day, sir,' a pleasant voice greeted him.

‘Ah, Mrs Nevill,' said Peter.

Lena swung round to see a person of medium height in a plain black dress, with only an ivory brooch for decoration, approaching them from a door she had left slightly ajar at the back of the square entrance hall.

‘Mrs Nevill, this is Miss Carnforth from Whitby. She is accompanying her brother who is negotiating some business here with my father.'

‘A pleasure, miss. Welcome to Raby Hall.'

‘Thank you, Mrs Nevill. I am delighted to be here and to meet you.' Lena knew she had just been assessed by a long-serving member of the household who was clearly wondering about her relationship with the young man she had long regarded as her charge.

‘Chocolate, sir?'

‘Thank you, Mrs Nevill.'

‘Will you take it in the drawing-room?'

He nodded.

‘Can I take your cloak, miss?'

‘Thank you.' Lena slipped it from her shoulders and removed her bonnet.

As Mrs Nevill left the hall, Peter escorted Lena into the drawing-room.

She found herself in a pleasant, light, airy room, with just the right amount of furniture to keep its spacious proportions. Three of the walls were hung with paintings. A highly polished mahogany sideboard took pride of place while the only other furniture consisted of two armchairs and a sofa, all covered in a delicate chintz that matched the curtains and complemented the painted wallpaper.

‘I suspect Mrs Nevill has kept the touches your mother brought to this room,' commented Lena.

‘Indeed she has, and it is the same throughout the house.'

‘Maybe that is why your father spends more time in your town house.'

‘Maybe. Mother's death hit him hard and changed him, but he has continued in his own way.'

This was not a topic either of them wanted to pursue and they both felt relief when Lena diverted the subject with a question. ‘Why is the house called Raby Hall?'

‘Raby was the name of my mother's family.'

The maids arrived then with the chocolate.

They spent the rest of the morning pleasantly. Peter gave her a tour of the house, which Lena found charming in every aspect. When they had donned their outdoor clothes again they strolled down to the river where he pointed out the boatshed, positioned unobtrusively, where he kept the coble.

‘I hope one day you'll accept my offer to take you sailing, Miss Carnforth,' he reminded her as they turned away from the water.

‘I will keep it in mind, Mr Hustwick,' she replied, feeling thrilled at the possibility of venturing out on the water - something Alistair would never have suggested. She pulled her thoughts up sharp. She should not be making such comparisons. Nevertheless when they reached the chaise, which Tom had brought to the front of the house, she glanced back wistfully in the direction of the Humber.

Peter drove to a nearby hostelry where he was known and immediately shown to a cosy private room where, bearing in mind that they were dining in Hull that evening, they chose a light luncheon.

‘This has been most pleasant, Mr Hustwick. I hope you will now show me some of the mercantile elements of Hull,' Lena prompted him.

‘Your wish is my command, Miss Carnforth.'

He set a brisk pace but after half a mile slowed and looked at her with apologetic concern. ‘I'm sorry, Miss Carnforth, I should have considered your comfort and kept to a more leisurely pace.'

Lena threw her head back and let laughter fill the air. ‘Mr Hustwick, don't apologise, it was delightful. I'd like more and more.'