The Favoured Child (55 page)

The carriage took us to church in the morning and back for breakfast, but Mama agreed that provided we stayed inside the boundaries of the estate, we might ride in the afternoon.

‘I have to leave tomorrow first thing,’ Richard said, ‘so will you come out at once, Julia?’

‘Indeed I will,’ I said, ‘but I shall have to change.’

‘Be quick, then!’ he said in his familiar peremptory tone of command.

I fled up to my bedroom. I had a choice of three riding habits now: my original one in cream, now sadly shabby, and the two newer ones, one in a soft grey with a grey tweeded jacket, which matched my eyes and which I thought fearfully smart, and the other a deep purple. When I had first worn the grey one downstairs, John had drawn in his breath with a little hiss and his eyes had met Mama’s in a look I could not fathom.

‘It is just that she always wore her riding dress,’ Mama had said, ‘and she had a grey one that she wore in second mourning after their father died.’

John had nodded, and I knew they were speaking of Beatrice. ‘The resemblance is so striking…’ he started.

‘Not at all,’ Mama had interrupted in a forceful voice without her usual courtesy. ‘It is just the dress.’

‘But is it a nice dress?’ I had demanded, impatient with the past, free from superstition. ‘Don’t you think it a lovely dress, Uncle John?’

‘I think you a very vain Bath miss,’ he had said fondly, ‘fishing for compliments like a hussy. Indeed, it is a very nice dress, and you are a very nice niece, and you have a nice horse. Matched greys, the two of you! Now, go and preen elsewhere, Squire Julia. I have work to do!’

‘I am working too!’ I had said, stung. ‘I am going down to Acre to see if they have gravel and sand ready to put down on the lane if it becomes too boggy.’

‘Squire Julia indeed,’ John had said, smiling. ‘Go and do your work, then, and call in at the hall on your way back. I want to know if they are able to carry on with their work. The foreman yesterday was saying that if the wind got up too high, they would have to stop.’

I had nodded and gone, unperturbed that my resemblance to Beatrice could still make John catch his breath. He and I had agreed that we had to live with the ghost of Beatrice, and we were both increasingly easy with our understanding.

Richard had not seen the riding habit on that day, for he had been away. I could not help wondering if he would think it was pretty too.

He did.

I could tell from the way he looked at me. He was waiting for me at the foot of the stairs, and I walked down towards him with the velvet skirts shushing on every step. His eyes narrowed as he watched me, and he lifted my hand from the banister and kissed it, watching my face.

‘You are lovely, Julia,’ he said softly. ‘I can hardly believe it, because I grew up knowing you all my life, but without my noticing, you have grown into the loveliest girl.’

I flushed scarlet up to the roots of my hair and looked at him. I could think of nothing to say. This was a Richard I did not
know. I felt oddly uncomfortable. I was used to Richard as my brother, as my friend, as my tormentor and trusted companion, but words of love from him made me uneasy.

‘Thank you,’ I said like a fool, and I gave him an apologetic smile. ‘I feel so silly, Richard,’ I said. ‘I can’t think what to say when you speak to me like that.’

He frowned at that and went before me towards the kitchen door to go out of the house the back way, but Mrs Gough stayed him with a loving hand on his sleeve and made him eat a fresh-baked roll and drink a cup of coffee before he went out into the cold air. ‘For you’re all skin and bone from that lodging-house food of yours,’ she said anxiously. ‘I doubt you are fed as well there as you are at home.’

Richard was charming, and ate what she wanted and praised last night’s dinner and begged for his favourite dish this afternoon. I watched him with a smile. He was always so very persuasive. He could charm his way into any position, into anyone’s heart.

Mrs Gough was wrong, though. He was not all skin and bone. He did look a little taller, and I thought he had grown. He was still a head taller than me, but he had filled out and become broader. He would never be weighty – he would always have that lean, supple look – but he had lost his coltish awkwardness and was no longer a gangling youth.

I turned my eyes down to my own cup of coffee. I could not look at Richard critically and assess the changes in his appearance. He was dazzling. Even at his youngest and most awkward stage, he had had looks which anyone might envy, with eyelashes as long as a girl’s, a complexion as clear and as vital as a healthy child’s, and a rangy leanness.

He had caught my eyes on him and he half raised an eyebrow in a silent question. I tried to smile but found that I was almost trembling. Richard nodded, as if he knew something that I did not, and his smile at me was very, very confident.

‘We must go, Mother Gough!’ he said firmly. ‘I want to ride all around before dinner.’

‘Aye, it’s a fine estate they’re making for you,’ she said, opening the door for us.

‘Just half for me,’ Richard corrected her gently.

‘Ah, nonsense,’ said Mrs Gough roundly, with a smile for me but with her eyes on his face. ‘The hall and land like this need a handsome young squire to run them on his own. You’d want Master Richard to be master here, wouldn’t you, Miss Julia?’

I tried to find some light reply, but I found I was blushing furiously and could not put a sentence together. I stammered something, and got myself out of the kitchen and into the cold garden and towards the stables before Mrs Gough could be even more indiscreet.

Jem had my mare ready for me, but had not known Richard would be riding.

‘How’s this?’ Richard asked. ‘Do you ride every day, Julia?’

‘Yes,’ I said. Richard tossed me up into the saddle. ‘We have been so busy on the land and Uncle John is not well enough to be out all day. Mr Megson cannot be everywhere at once.’

‘You
are
busy,’ Richard said, and his tone was not approving. I felt uneasy and shifted slightly in the saddle.

‘There has been a lot to do,’ I said defensively.

‘And I can see you do it all,’ Richard said. The words sounded like praise, but I knew Richard was not pleased. ‘What a wonderful little miss squire you are, Julia. Acre must adore you.’

‘Stuff,’ I said awkwardly. ‘It is just work, Richard, as Beatrice used to do.’

He would have said more, but Prince came out of the stable with his head thrown up and Jem clinging on to the reins. ‘He’s rather fresh,’ Richard said, and he sounded almost apprehensive.

‘He’s not been ridden very often,’ I said. ‘Jem has taken him out, but John has been too tired to ride much in the cold weather.’

Richard nodded. ‘Hold him still, can’t you?’ he said abruptly to Jem as the animal shifted when he was trying to mount. Jem nodded, but shot a disrespectful wink at me which I pretended not to see.

Once Richard was in the saddle, he seemed more confident, though he was a little pale. ‘I shouldn’t think he’s been out of his stable for a sennight,’ he complained. ‘Really, Julia, if you are squiring it around the estate so much, you might ensure that the horses are properly exercised.’

‘I’m sorry,’ I said neutrally. I knew Prince would settle down soon. He was too well mannered to let his enthusiasm for being out overcome his normal steadiness. ‘Mr Megson stables one of his horses here,’ I offered. ‘If you don’t like Prince, you could try him.’

‘I’ll ride our horse,’ Richard snapped, and he let Prince start forward and brushed past me to trot down the drive.

‘Prince is all right,’ Jem said reassuringly. ‘He’s got no vices. If he bolts, he’ll only come home. All Master Richard has to do is to hold on tight and stay on top. I suppose he can do that, Miss Julia.’

‘Thank you, Jem,’ I said repressively, and I trotted out into the sunlit drive after Richard.

I had hoped we would go towards Acre, because I wanted to see what they were planting in the common strips, but Richard turned to the right before we got to the village and led the way up towards the downs.

‘I thought we would ride along the top of the downs and then drop down to the common,’ he said over his shoulder.

‘Yes,’ I agreed. I could at least check the sheep as we rode past the flock. They were out on the high downs at last, and I wanted to see if the lambs were looking well enough and standing up to their first days out.

‘Why do you not know what to say when I tell you how much I admire you?’ Richard asked abruptly as the two horses breasted the rise of the track and came out at the top of the downs, blowing hard.

I coloured again. ‘I suppose because we have known each other for so long…’ I said awkwardly, ‘and been friends for so long, Richard. It just seems so strange to hear you speak to me like that.’

‘But your Bath friends, James Fortescue and the others, no doubt pay you compliments, don’t they?’ Richard continued. ‘Does it sound odd to you from them?’

‘Not from them,’ I said honestly. The horses fell into an easy walk side by side, along the old drovers’ way that runs along the top of the downs. Looking to my left, I could see Acre and the Wideacre woods, the London road and half of Sussex, and Hampshire as well. Looking southwards, I could see the gleam of the sea and the thousand little mud islands of Chichester harbour.

‘Is that because you prefer them to me?’ Richard suddenly demanded. I jumped and switched my eyes from the view to Richard. He was breathing fast; his colour came and went in his cheeks, and his eyes were blazing blue. ‘Tell me, Julia,’ he said urgently. ‘I have to know! You wrote me a letter which I could not begin to understand. That is why I came straight home to see you. I believed us to be betrothed. You have given me your word; and then you write to me as if it were a little piece of gossip and tell me that you are affianced to someone else!’

‘Richard! No!’ I said. I stopped my horse and put my hand out to him. He jumped down from Prince and lifted me down from the saddle. When my feet touched the frosty grass he did not release me, but kept hold of me in a tight grip, looking down at my face.

‘Tell me, then,’ he said huskily, ‘tell me that you have not changed towards me, even though your clothes have changed, and you are so grown-up and confident. Remember how it was when I came to the field just yesterday? Tell me that you still love me.’

‘Of course I do,’ I said simply. ‘I always have done. From as far back as I can remember I have always loved you, Richard. How can you doubt that?’

‘You love me as a cousin, I know,’ he said tightly, ‘but you have promised me more than that, Julia. I love you as a lover, I think you know that. We both know what it means. I am asking you, do you love me too?’

It was not true.

There was a lie, somewhere.

I was not a fool. I had been a fool over Richard many, many times. I had loved him without encouragement and without return. I had always thought there would be a time when he would take me in his arms and say he loved me, and our love would have changed, grown into adult love. Now that time had come.

But it had come too late.

‘I do love you,’ I said slowly, ‘but I am not sure what that love means for us both.’

‘You have promised to marry me,’ Richard pressed. ‘When I am done at Oxford and we are of age, you will marry me, as we always planned.’

‘Richard…’ I said helplessly. His hands on my waist were closed in a hard grip, hardly a caress at all. I was trying to think of words to explain to him that he was my dearest brother and friend, but that the feeling of being
in
love was quite different, that he should not mistake his feelings for me.

He drew me a little closer to him and his hand slid around my back. I felt my mouth grow dry with apprehension. He put a hand under my chin and turned my face up to him.

He had always done as he wished with me. I had never said no to Richard, I had never even run away from his anger. How could I now learn to pull away from his touch?

‘Richard…’ I said softly.

His hand smoothed my back and I could feel his warm body pressing against mine. One hand stroked my face, my cheek, my neck. But my body did not respond to him. It did not melt to his touch. Instead I heard a buzzing in my head like an angry bee and I could feel the hair on the nape of my neck standing up like the hackles on a frightened dog. For the first time in our lives, when Richard touched me, I drew away. I could not help but draw away. He made my skin crawl.

Richard’s face came down lower and he kissed me lightly on the lips.

I held myself still. Nothing would be gained by pulling away,
and anyway I had my back against Misty and could step backwards no further. But when his lips were pressed harder on my passive mouth, I could not help but shudder.

He misunderstood that shiver. He broke from the kiss and smiled down at me. ‘You are hot for me,’ he said confidently. ‘You love me and you want me.’

‘No,’ I said instantly. ‘I am sorry, Richard, but that is not how it is.’

‘You are wanton,’ Richard said coolly. ‘You have always been mine. You would come to me at any time, night or day, if I so much as snapped my fingers. But then you go away to Bath and think you have found another master, another lover. But I have come to claim you back. And here and now I
do
take you back.’

‘No, Richard,’ I said steadily. I was breathing fast, but there was a very sharp awareness in my mind that what Richard was saying was not true.

‘You are a whore and a wanton,’ Richard said pleasantly. ‘You would go with any man who flattered your monstrous vanity. You played the little squire all around Bath and made a show of yourself with finding the paupers and bringing them home. Now you have some cheap tradesman’s son sniffing around you and I am supposed to believe this is love! It is vanity and lust, Julia. You are my betrothed, and I will take care to keep you.’

I wrenched myself from him and turned my head into Misty’s silver-grey shoulder. The clean smell of her warmth steadied me.

‘None of that is true,’ I said quietly. My temper was rising, but I had endured Dr Phillips’s stripping away of my most private hopes and fears, and I no longer rose to the slightest bait. ‘None of that is true,’ I said again. ‘I am in love with James Fortescue. I went to Bath a free woman. We did play at being engaged when we were children, but neither your papa nor my mama ever encouraged that. Since we have been grown, I have never felt that you loved me in that way. I love you as if you were my brother and I will continue to do so, provided you treat me well. There is no other relationship between us.’