The Paradise Will (5 page)
‘Six o’clock will be suitable, I think.’
She nodded. ‘There’s pheasant pie, and a roast of lamb with potatoes and green beans.’
The housekeeper left, and Charles, his temper improved considerably by the promise of a good dinner, turned the conversation to less controversial matters so when Letty joined them shortly afterwards, the atmosphere was reasonably harmonious.
It remained so for the rest of the evening and throughout dinner, and Alyssa was grateful Charles did not mention the will again before leaving for Dorchester. After his departure, Alyssa and Letty sat in the drawing-room, conversing on general subjects for a while before Letty ventured, ‘Tell me to mind my own affairs if you like, but are you really intending to marry Charles?’
‘Why do you ask?’ Alyssa countered, with a quizzical smile.
‘Firstly, I need to consider my future; Charles will not want me in the way after you are married.’
‘I see. And secondly?’
‘To own the truth, I do not think him worthy of you. You are lively, clever and very witty, and he is—’ Her colour rose and she hesitated, unsure whether to go on.
‘Pray continue, Letty,’ said Alyssa, amused, ‘Don’t worry about hurting my feelings – I fear I am shockingly insensitive where Charles is concerned.’
‘Well, he is as dull as ditchwater! Oh, he’s kind and I expect he has good
intentions
, but he continually throws a pall over everything with his gloomy cynicism and I couldn’t bear it if he made you unhappy. And apart from being miserable, you would be bored within a month. There! Now I have said it and you can scold me,’ she replied, blushing deeply.
‘I won’t do that,’ Alyssa assured her. ‘Having given the matter a great deal of thought recently, I’ve reached the same conclusion: we aren’t suited. It’s not Charles’s fault – he is a good man and I know I could do worse – but I cannot reconcile to myself that is a strong enough foundation for marriage.’ She smiled, and added a little wistfully, ‘Perhaps I am being a romantic idiot now – there is much to be said for having a comfortable husband, after all – but I wanted
something
more.’
‘You deserve more,’ said Letty, resolutely. ‘You looked after your mother during her illness, gave me a home when I had nowhere else to go, and nursed your father through failing eyesight and ill health. It is high time you paid
attention
to yourself and married someone who will care for you.’
‘You make me sound like a martyr,’ Alyssa said, with a little laugh.
‘I don’t mean to but you’ve never complained about your circumstances and always found opportunity to indulge what interests you, particularly in teaching the children. Charles would stifle your spirit – you would have to dance to his tune because he’d have a miserable face if you did not. And he is odiously
priggish
when you are never so. Why, even if I do something wrong, you have a clever way of acknowledging it: you don’t ring a peal over me, or make me feel childish, whereas Charles …’ Letty’s voice trailed away, but she rolled her eyes, allowing her expression of dismay to say more than words.
‘He can be sanctimonious, but we all have our faults. Perhaps it is unfair to dwell on Charles’s when he has many good points as well.’
‘But if you
loved
him, you wouldn’t need to talk of his good or bad points; you would just accept they were all part of the man you loved and desired.’
‘Just so, Letty,’ agreed Alyssa softly, ‘I could never love someone blindly,
ignoring
their flaws, but I shouldn’t have to remind myself of his qualities.’
‘Do you miss him when he is not with you?’
Alyssa, looking slightly guilty, said, ‘No, I don’t. If I am honest, I am flattered by his interest but don’t return his regard in the same degree.’
‘And how often do you laugh with him?’
‘Hardly ever: a sense of humour is not one of his virtues.’
Letty leaned forward to murmur, ‘And does your heart leap every time you look at him?’
Alyssa smiled. ‘You are incorrigible, child!’ she said, without malice.
‘I know,’ agreed Letty, her face glowing with mischief, ‘but answer my
question
, if you please.’
‘Oh, very well. No, it does not.’
Letty sat back, satisfied. ‘Then it is settled: you do not love Charles; you are merely fond of him.’
‘But perhaps that is because I cannot love anyone.’
‘Bah!’ said Letty, dismissively. ‘Your nature lends itself to loving deeply – and that does
not
mean you will think him faultless – but rather you will feel he is the other half of you; someone you can laugh and cry with; someone to share your deepest fears, your hopes, your plans – a soul mate, if you will.’
‘You astonish me sometimes,’ said Alyssa, staring in admiration. ‘For a young girl, you show a remarkable perspicacity of human nature and quite put me to shame.’
Letty considered this. ‘Well, I don’t know how I understand about love exactly since I have never felt more than the sad crush I had last summer on William Armstrong. It is just what I imagine, and have read, and gleaned from watching others who are in love. As for the rest of human nature, you and I have examples to observe at close quarters,’ she said, with a grin.
‘What can you mean—?’ began Alyssa, puzzled until understanding suddenly dawned. ‘Ah, of course – the children! How true. All of human nature is there, only in a more concentrated and uninhibited form.’ She laughed and added, ‘If I can deal with twenty little ones, I can surely manage one Sir Giles Maxton!’
‘What sort of man is he?’ asked her companion.
‘The most condescending, self-important person I ever met.’
‘So you have said. However, I actually meant what does he
look
like?’
‘I suppose he is not handsome in the conventional sense, but he is imposing: tall, with a powerful physique, dark hair and eyes which emit a fierce stare.’
‘You managed to take in some details of his appearance then?’ said Letty, giving Alyssa a curious look from under her lashes.
‘A few – I was too annoyed to notice everything.’ This was not quite true; in the intervening weeks, Alyssa had realized she could vividly recall every detail of Sir Giles’s face, figure and the sheer force of his presence. She murmured, ‘I expect he will call soon. You can judge for yourself then.’
‘I’ll look forward it,’ she replied, with a cryptic little smile.
In fact, Sir Giles arrived the next morning. Alyssa was in the drawing-room with Charles and, when Rowberry announced her visitor, she felt a tingling
anticipation
mingled with apprehension. She would have preferred Charles not to be present and stole a glance at him. He looked angry, but quickly schooled his features into indifference and stood with his back to the window.
When Sir Giles strode in, Alyssa found his presence as equally compelling as it had been in London. He was dressed in buckskin breeches and top boots, his dark-green double-breasted coat cut to fit closely across his broad shoulders. His cravat was tied in a waterfall knot but his hair was not lovingly teased into the longer, fashionably dishevelled style; it was cut slightly shorter and the breeze outside had done the rest. It seemed Sir Giles was no pink of the
ton
, inclined to spend time and effort on achieving a supposedly natural hairstyle. As he approached, his cool gaze met Alyssa’s as he took her hand.
‘Welcome to Dorset, Miss Paradise. I trust you had a good journey?’
‘Yes – we arrived yesterday.’ Her small fingers felt lost in his large, shapely hand and she removed them quickly.
‘News travels quickly in this small community. Word of your arrival reached me and I decided to drive over this morning.’ He glanced at Charles. ‘I trust this is not an inconvenient time?’
‘Oh, forgive me!’ she exclaimed. ‘May I introduce Charles Brook, my….’ Alyssa hesitated; she had been about to say he was her good friend.
‘Your betrothed?’ prompted Gil.
‘Well, he – that is to say—’ stammered Alyssa. Fortunately for her conscience, Charles chose that moment to intervene.
‘Our betrothal is not yet official but soon will be,’ he said, eyeing the other man with suspicion but extending his hand in response to Gil’s outstretched one. ‘I have heard of you from Alyssa, Sir Giles – along with details of your meeting in London.’ His tone indicated he had heard nothing to the good.
‘Indeed?’ said Gil, raising his brows at this shrouded hostility. ‘It was a most unusual first meeting. Miss Paradise and I were both hasty in our responses that day, I fear,’ He turned to Alyssa and smiled, ‘May I offer my congratulations on your forthcoming betrothal?’
‘Oh! Y-yes, of course!’ she murmured, feeling trapped. ‘Th-Thank you.’
Charles, throwing Alyssa a puzzled look, asked bluntly, ‘What say you to these ridiculous terms, Maxton?’
‘What am I supposed to say?’ replied Gil, equally candid. ‘We must comply to obtain what we want. The general was a friend of mine so I also feel under some obligation to follow his wishes.’
‘Have you no thought for Alyssa’s reputation?’
‘Charles, please!’ she said, annoyed.
Again, Gil raised his brows. ‘The scandalmongers will find our situation
newsworthy
for a time, but the novelty will die away. Most people will understand Miss Paradise is simply carrying out her uncle’s request,’ he observed in a cold voice. ‘However, I can see why you are not happy with the arrangements—’
‘Charles knows I’m determined,’ interjected Alyssa.
‘I didn’t imagine you would change your mind,’ said Gil, amusement
hovering
on his lips. ‘I shall endeavour to remain compliant throughout dinner if you will do the same, Miss Paradise?’
‘I will try, but the provocation might prove too great on occasion.’
His smile grew. ‘Then shall we be content to see where our conversation leads?’
‘A gentleman keeps a civil tongue in his head when in the presence of a lady!’ said Charles.
Gil’s brows snapped together as he queried in a suddenly arctic tone, ‘True, but should I infer from your comment you do not consider me a gentleman?’
‘I was not suggesting anything of the sort,’ replied Charles mendaciously. ‘I am merely concerned Alyssa’s time here should be as pleasant as possible.’
‘I also wish the least difficulty and disruption for both of us,’ said Sir Giles in a curt voice.
Alyssa, feeling sidelined in this undeclared yet simmering confrontation, said quickly, ‘Sir Giles, may I suggest seven o’clock on Saturday for our first meeting, here at Hawkscote? I will then have had time to settle in and meet my land agent.’
‘That will be convenient. Ennis is your agent – he was your uncle’s for some years. He is very capable but if there are particular matters you wish to discuss or require advice on, we may speak about them on Saturday.’
‘Be aware, Sir Giles,’ said Charles, through gritted teeth, ‘Alyssa has friends who can offer advice.’
‘I expect she has,’ he replied, smoothly. ‘Remember Miss Paradise has only to seek my advice – she is not obliged to take it, although I would strongly
recommend
she does, or at the very least listens to Ennis. My local knowledge and experience in estate management might prove useful.’
‘I have estate management experience,’ said Charles.
‘Ah, I see.’ Gil paused infinitesimally. ‘May I enquire how many acres on your property?’
‘Almost two hundred.’
‘Eastcombe, my own estate, has one thousand acres. Perhaps we should leave Miss Paradise to decide who can offer the best advice?’
Charles, looking furious, made no further comment. It was clear he could not compete with Sir Giles on estate management or acreage.
Gil offered his hand and said, ‘I’ll take my leave now. We will surely meet again, Mr Brook.’
Charles murmured an indistinct response and could hardly bring himself to return the salutation. Afterwards, he turned away and Alyssa watched Sir Giles give a brief shrug in response. Feeling compelled to atone for Charles’s childish behaviour, she smiled brilliantly at her guest and put out her hand.
‘Thank you for driving over,’ she said, warmly. ‘I appreciate it and look forward to welcoming you again.’
His strong fingers closed over hers and he studied her smile with an expression that was hard to read. ‘I will be here promptly at seven,’ he replied. With that, he relinquished her hand and left.
Silence followed his departure until Charles snapped, ‘Like you, I find I do not like Sir Giles Maxton in the least, Alyssa!’
She did not reply immediately but a martial light glinted in her eyes.
‘What possessed you to be so rude?’ she demanded.
Charles stared and exclaimed, ‘You said Maxton was overbearing in London and when I answer him in the same coin, you find fault with
me
!’
‘The circumstances were different today; he was a visitor and deserved to be treated with civility unless he behaved to the contrary. He seemed determined to be cordial until piqued by your offensive tone.’
‘I might ask why you find him acceptable now,’ said Charles, nettled.
‘I do not necessarily. I still believe him to be brusque and opinionated in general, but that does not mean you should be discourteous when given no provocation.’
‘I was protecting you!’
‘By being impolite?’ she asked, her cheeks flushed with anger. ‘You only made yourself look churlish! You do not hold sway over my actions, Charles, and I don’t need your interference – please, respect my wishes on this.’
‘Maxton is somehow aware we are betrothed in all but name – I had no need to tell him.’
‘I mentioned it when we met in London,’ admitted Alyssa, biting her lip, ‘I did not intend to.’
‘You speak as if it were something to be ashamed of.’
‘No, I was pointing out I should not have said anything as I have not yet given you my answer.’
‘Well, I’m glad you told him,’ he said, giving a thin smile and puffing out his chest. ‘If he thinks you are spoken for, he may curtail his behaviour. There is no guarantee – as I have said, many who appear gentleman later prove loose in the haft – but to know you are not without protection may deter him. You’re a gently bred girl, by God, not one of the muslin company!’
‘I’m sure he can see as much,’ she murmured, ironically.
‘Hmph! He realizes now I will stand no nonsense. Why, I would happily pelt him in the smeller if he lays one finger on you!’
Laughter rose to Alyssa’s throat at his use of boxing cant, but she quickly stifled it, seeing he was in earnest. ‘Ch-Charles, all this is fustian!’
‘Fustian? I think not. And another thing – if he is a loose fish, he could make himself agreeable to get Hawkscote!’
‘So now he will succumb to the allure of my money rather than my beauty?’
Charles merely scowled; he could not articulate the territorial instincts Giles Maxton had stirred in him on sight.
‘It is lowering to think my attractions come a poor second,’ she continued, amused. ‘Perhaps he will ravish me first,
before
making himself agreeable. I shall bear it in mind and be on guard for my neighbour’s iniquitous behaviour. However, if he owns a thousand-acre estate, he is already wealthy and has no need to ply me with soft words.’
‘But foremost, he has an eye to business,’ protested Charles. ‘If Hawkscote could be obtained without payment, or at a reduced value, so much the better for him.’
‘Can we leave the subject now, Charles?’ she said drily. ‘No purpose will be served by continuing.’
During the remainder of Charles’s stay, the matter was not raised again although Alyssa knew this was only by considerable effort on his part. Two days later, she was truly thankful he was leaving. Relations between them had
deteriorated
further. Alyssa was at a loss to understand his surly attitude; Charles, on the other hand, saw it as a reasonable response to Alyssa’s lack of empathy with his view. As he stood by the waiting carriage, he kissed her hand, saying gravely he would return soon and expect an answer. In the meantime, he would write. He climbed in, the equipage rumbled slowly away and Alyssa returned to the house.
Letty was reading, but looked up to see her companion’s despondent
expression
. ‘I’m glad Charles has gone,’ she said, ‘He has made you unhappy.’
‘His behaviour only arouses my irritation,’ observed Alyssa, rubbing her
forehead
wearily.
Letty closed her book. ‘Now he has left, what shall we do for the rest of the day?’
‘Ennis is due at eleven o’clock. I’ll suggest he stays for lunch and shows me the estate afterwards. Would you care to join us?’
‘I’d like to meet the farm workers, and their families.’
Alyssa agreed. ‘Yes – it is time I introduced myself.’
The day passed quickly. Unhampered by Charles’s presence, Alyssa enjoyed her new role. She discussed the running of the house with Mrs Farnell, listening to her ideas for improvements and cost savings and suggesting some of her own. She met Ennis, a mild-mannered, middle-aged gentleman who had no qualms explaining business details to a woman, and he was neither patronizing nor
sycophantic
as they studied the accounts.
‘I will not trouble you with too much detail at this stage, Miss Paradise,’ he said, with a smile, ‘it is better to learn a little as we go along. Of course,
problems
can be discussed as and when they arise. Does that meet with your approval?’
‘Oh, yes! I have a great deal to learn, but I’m willing to apply myself. As you may know, my uncle requested I seek additional advice from Sir Giles Maxton.’
‘Then you will receive help from an experienced source.’
‘Do you regard him well?’ she queried.
He nodded approvingly. ‘He is a respected figure for many miles, both for his business expertise and his stewardship of his own estate. In my dealings with Sir Giles, he is always plainly spoken but eminently reliable. Your uncle, I believe, consulted him regularly.’
‘So I understand.’ Alyssa smiled, and added, ‘Thank you for your help this morning. Would you stay for luncheon if you have the time?’
He agreed and, at Alyssa’s request, gave her and Letty a partial tour of Hawkscote afterwards. They met most of the labourers and their families apart from Jonas Draper, who was out working in the fields. Alyssa discovered through careful questioning that the labourers did not own any land or property and, secretly shocked at the ragged, poorly nourished children and adults she had met, she was quiet on the return journey. As they walked back from the carriage to the house, Ennis was a little way behind when Letty asked softly, ‘Are you feeling quite well? You have spoken little since we left the cottages.’
‘I am troubled by the poverty I have seen,’ she whispered. ‘Having witnessed the privation striking farm workers in Oxfordshire, I did not expect much, but the harsh realities of country living are even more pronounced here.’
‘The children were very thin,’ agreed Letty.
Mr Ennis took his leave shortly afterwards, advising he would return on Monday. This was payment of wages day and, he said, smiling genially, Alyssa would be most welcome to attend.
Friday was spent showing Letty the rest of the house, including the secret passage which made her giggle delightedly, and looking over the account ledgers provided by Ennis. As seven o’clock on Saturday approached, Alyssa felt she could meet Sir Giles with a modicum of knowledge.
She checked her appearance with a critical eye; she had chosen her best evening gown, a dark-blue three-quarter crepe over a pale satin slip, for the
occasion
. The neckline was fashionably low and revealed enough of the smooth white skin of her shoulders without being
de trop
. A pearl necklace and earrings completed her toilette.
She looked stylish yet respectable, but when Sir Giles walked into the drawing-room, she felt a shiver of apprehension and wondered how the evening would progress. Alyssa’s nature was not vindictive; she voiced her opinions too readily but was as happy to laugh at her own foibles as those of others. She might tease but she would never prolong disagreements unnecessarily. However, she could not remain silent on issues which troubled her deeply and there were
questions
she needed to ask when a suitable moment arose.
Alyssa, watching him approach, gave no outward hint of her unease. She greeted him politely and added, ‘This is Miss Letty Ravenhill.’
‘I have been eager to meet you,’ said Letty, smiling. ‘I did not have the
opportunity
when you first called. Alyssa has described you, of course.’
‘I dare say Miss Paradise’s description would be intriguing,’ he said, with an amused glance at Alyssa, ‘and Mr Brook’s. Does he stay long?’
‘Charles has business which has taken him back to London: he will not return for some time,’ explained Alyssa.
‘I see,’ he murmured.
With a studied lack of tact, Letty said, ‘Thank goodness he has gone; Charles was utterly miserable and making Lyssa the same!’
‘Indeed? I gathered Mr Brook’s mood was not a convivial one,’ he said,
smiling
wryly.
Alyssa eyed him uncertainly. ‘He was concerned for my welfare.’
‘I have no quarrel with that, but why he must be in such high dudgeon, I can’t imagine.’ He raised his brows. ‘Perhaps he ate something which disagreed with him?’ he said solemnly.
‘No, he did not,’ replied Alyssa, biting her lip.
‘So Friday-faced is his normal appearance then?’ asked Gil, in an artless tone.
‘N-No,’ she faltered.
‘Yes!’ said Letty, simultaneously.
He executed a small bow and said, his smile lurking, ‘I defer to your greater knowledge and trust it was not the Dorset air which affected his constitution, or his temper.’
‘I-I believe something
in particular
annoyed him!’ declared Alyssa with twinkling eyes.
He grinned. ‘Ah, now I understand! Then perhaps a spell in London will restore his good humour.’
‘Oh, I wouldn’t depend upon it,’ said Letty, cheerfully, ‘Charles enjoys being gloomy.’
Any further observations were cut short by the news the clerk had arrived and Alyssa went out to find the dapper, smartly dressed Mr Forde already seated in an alcove outside the diningroom. She begged he make himself comfortable and enjoy the refreshments provided, to which Mr Forde, who silently considered this the easiest commission he had ever been asked to undertake, readily agreed.
The diningroom had been laid out in accordance with Alyssa’s instructions: places had been set opposite each other at the oak table and candles placed along its length; the magnificent silver epergne decorated with fruit was at the centre; a fire crackled in the hearth, and spring blooms, their distinctive scent filling the air, had been situated about the room.
Alyssa sat across the table from Sir Giles and, as she waited for Rowberry to serve the soup, she glanced at the portrait of Uncle Tom above the fireplace. It had always been her favourite, the artist having captured the essence of his
character
as well as his physical likeness. Dressed in scarlet regimentals, General Paradise gazed down from his lofty position with the hint of devilment in his eyes she knew so well. She suddenly felt his presence keenly and looked again at the portrait; she was ready to swear his mouth was turned up in amusement!
For Alyssa, the scene was almost dreamlike. She was dining alone with a man who was practically a stranger and yet the setting felt curiously intimate, cocooned away from the world. She looked away from her uncle’s image only to find Sir Giles regarding her steadily, and she could not suppress a shiver at his searching gaze.
‘How strange,’ she observed, ‘when I looked a moment ago, I could have sworn Uncle Tom was watching us. He would be pleased we have met his wishes – thus far at least.’
‘Amused too, I’d venture,’ he said. ‘I admired his sense of humour as well as his spirit.’ He glanced at the portrait and then back to her face. ‘I detect aspects of his features in you, Miss Paradise.’
‘Not his side whiskers and grey flowing locks, I hope!’
‘No,’ he replied, smiling, ‘perhaps a certain sweep to your cheekbones. More particularly, you have the same glint of amusement in your eyes that Tom possessed – there the resemblance is uncanny.’
‘Our personalities are also similar.’
‘So I am discovering. When we first met, however, you were not at all what I expected.’
Alyssa watched his long fingers curl around the stem of his glass, noting the soft, dark hair dusted across the back of his hand and wrist. ‘Oh?’ she said, quickly. ‘Well,
you
were not what
I
anticipated so there we are equal. What did you expect to find?’
‘A demure miss, and instead, there was a self-possessed young woman who gave her opinion decidedly. You reminded me of someone but the answer did not occur for several days.’
‘May I ask who?’
‘My sister, Marianne – she states her views candidly.’
‘Do you dislike your sister?’ asked Alyssa, arching her brows.
He stared, puzzled. ‘Why do you ask that?’
‘Because I sensed your antipathy to me that morning, Sir Giles.’
He smiled and shook his head. ‘On the contrary, Marianne is a much loved sibling. My hostility was because I had no control over the situation.’ He
hesitated
, then added ruefully, ‘To feel powerless is not an everyday occurrence for me, I confess. However, I am prepared to make the best of things now and should apologize – it was wrong to suggest you knew about Tom’s will. My manner is sometimes blunt, Miss Paradise. I cannot change it but hope you find me open and straightforward, nonetheless.’
‘I admit I thought you brusque, and self-important.’
‘Do you still think so?’
‘I don’t have enough evidence to make a further judgement.’
He laughed. ‘At least you are honest!’
‘I cannot help it. And if this is the time for confessions, I should say I
deliberately
provoked you.’
‘Why?’
‘I don’t know,’ she answered, incurably truthful. ‘I’m not proud of it, but the opportunity was too irresistible to ignore.’
There was a gleam of appreciative humour in his eyes. ‘Your uncle would have approved.’
‘I expect he would,’ she admitted. ‘I am not a naive girl, easily browbeaten by a fierce look.’
‘Mr Brook is concerned for you,’ observed Sir Giles gently.
‘He shouldn’t be: I am quite capable of looking after my interests.’
‘Surely it is natural for him to be unhappy about the arrangements?’
‘Perhaps, but he should know if he tries to dictate terms, I’ll go my own way.’
