Toblethorpe Manor (5 page)

Late that evening when Jem returned with an answer from Arnden, he received a sovereign for his pains. Miss Florence Carstairs was happy to be of service to her sister-in-law. Since Lady Annabel had informed her that Miss Fell was the daughter of an old friend, she expressed no qualms about that young lady’s doubtful gentility.

“But oh, Richard,” exclaimed Lady Annabel, “I should never be able to face your aunt again if Miss Fell should turn out to be not quite elegant!”

Chapter 4

Another three days passed before Miss Fell was allowed to leave her room. By this time Lady Annabel’s doubts were quite laid to rest—Miss Fell was a lady. Lucy, of course, had never had any doubts. Clara was her best friend and by way of becoming her confidante, which amused her mother and dismayed her brother. In spite of Lady Annabel’s assurances, Richard still had his misgivings; it was a relief that at least the young woman was not vulgar, but only time would tell whether she knew how to go on in Society, and they might never learn her background.

It was a rainy Monday morning, gloomy and chilly. Richard and Lord Denham were playing billiards in a desultory way when Lucy bounced in.

“Richard, mama desires that you will carry Miss Fell to the morning room. She is well enough to come down; is not that delightful?”

Richard looked annoyed.

“Surely one of the footmen…? Oh, very well. I shall be there directly. Tony, let us finish the game in a few minutes.”

“Certainly not. I am most anxious to make the acquaintance of Miss Fell and shall be happy to abandon a game that you are winning for the fourth time. I shall await you in the morning room.”

 Unwillingly, Richard followed his sister upstairs. His feelings were confused. Used to regulating his conduct toward strangers and slight acquaintances according to rigid rules laid down by his uncle, Lord Mortlake, he had no idea how to approach a young woman whom he had saved from death, yet of whose position in life he was totally ignorant. He supposed she must be grateful, but deep in the hidden places of his mind a hurt child looked out and thought:
She will look at my face and she will despise me.
That child had kept him from ever allowing himself to have serious intentions toward a woman. Indeed, he was never at ease with any female outside his family. Now, he unconsciously armored himself in his arrogance, and his mother’s heart sank as she saw his cold, stiff face.

Miss Fell sat in a chair by the fire, with her back to the door. No less nervous than Richard, she nevertheless seemed calm and composed; and no one could have guessed from her appearance that she felt like an intruder. However warm and accepting the ladies were, she was sure her presence must be less than welcome to the master of the house. Indeed, Lucy had dropped several hints as to her brother’s feelings, vaguely hoping to lessen the shock to her dear friend in case he should let her see his disapproval.

At least, Miss Fell thought, there is a vast improvement in my appearance. Lucy had described her pallid, bloodstained arrival with ghoulish enjoyment. Now she was dressed in a green wrapper of Lady Annabel’s (“It does not become me in the least, my dear, but green is quite your color”). Her hair had been vigorously brushed by Lucy’s maid and arranged simply in a loose chignon. The scar on her brow was now a thin white line, scarcely visible, and her hair covered the bruise, which was fading rapidly. Lucy thought she looked charming, interestingly pale, and only her tightly clasped hands suggested to Lady Annabel that she was not at ease.

Lady Annabel led her reluctant son forward. “Miss Fell, I must make known to you my son, Richard Carstairs.”

Miss Fell held out her hand and raised her eyes to his face. Richard, prepared to bow coldly, met her eyes, shyly smiling, and took her hand in both his.

“I am delighted to see you so much recovered,” he stammered.

“I owe you my life, Mr. Carstairs,” she said simply. “There is no way I can ever thank you.”

“Pray do not try, Miss Fell. I could hardly have left you lying in the snow.”

Lucy giggled. “Last year he brought home an early lamb that was half frozen to death.”

“I am properly put in my place,” declared Miss Fell, chuckling.

It was the wrong thing to say. Richard stiffened and let go her hand, which he had forgotten he was holding. She cast him a quick glance of appeal, but he was not looking at her. Her hands again clasped tightly in her lap.

“Well,” said Richard with an effort, “if you are to go below stairs this morning, let us have done with it.”

Lucy helped her friend to stand. Awkwardly, and furious with himself, Richard picked her up in his arms, carefully avoiding her eyes. She blushed to feel him holding her and trembled a little with tension and embarrassment.

Richard felt her shiver and looked down at her. She smiled up at him timidly and apologetically, and there was a lost look in her eyes. He cursed himself for distressing her. Had she not enough troubles without his adding to them? He should rather be solving her problems than causing new ones. His arms tightened about her involuntarily.

“I shall not drop you,” he reassured gently, and his eyes now begged her forgiveness.

Miss Fell relaxed and watched his face as he carried her along the passage and down the stairway. How strange, she pondered; as long as he can think of me as a sick lamb, he is kindness itself; yet as soon as he considers my position, he becomes as haughty as a duke. He is very handsome in a stern sort of way. I wonder if he ever smiles? Lucy seems very fond of him and she is so lively. He must be a good brother. If I have any brothers, I hope they are as kind as he, she thought wistfully, and that I may find them soon.

Richard set her down on a sofa close to the fire in the morning room, and she was introduced to Lord Denham.

“Delighted to see you up and about, Miss Fell. I daresay you will not have to endure Miss Carstairs’ reading poetry to you any longer.”

“My lord, Miss Carstairs has been reading me a most intriguing novel, and I trust we shall finish it together. But I must thank your lordship for your help in rescuing me.”

“Ah well,
noblesse oblige
you know. Besides, I could not bring myself to stand aside and let Richard reap all the glory. Have you still no idea why you were in that godforsaken place at that godforsaken time?”

Lady Annabel cast him a reproving glance and looked anxiously at Miss Fell.

“Lucy told me,” she said hesitantly, “that the doctor thought I had been beaten. I can only suppose I may have been running away, though from whom or what or where I cannot guess. I find it hard to believe that I can have come so far that none of you recognizes me, nor has even heard of someone being missed. It is a very strange feeling not to know who you are.”

 She put her hand to her head and Lady Annabel stepped swiftly forward.

“My poor child,” she soothed, “you are not to think of the business until you are quite well. Lord Denham, that was ill done.”

He looked like a guilty small boy. “Lady Annabel, Miss Fell, my apologies. Here we have a heroine and a mystery in our midst and I find it irresistible, but I will curb myself.”

“Indeed, ma’am, I am quite well. I cannot help but think of it often. Lord Denham is not to blame.”

“He is, he is,” crowed Lucy, “and you shall give him a forfeit, Clara, for being so thoughtless.”

Lady Annabel and Richard exchanged looks of despair. Lord Denham was equal to the challenge.

“Shall you rap my knuckles with a ruler, Miss Fell?”

“I shall rather sentence you to listen to Miss Carstairs reading poetry for half an hour.”

Lady Annabel and Richard applauded; Lucy laughed, and Lord Denham drew back in mock horror.

“What, so fair and yet so cruel? At least allow me to choose the poet. Not Cowper, I beg of you.”

It was impossible not to like Lord Denham. Comfortable in any company, he quickly put others at their ease. Indolent he might be, but always good-natured, and his ready wit made him a welcome guest wherever he went. He spent most of his time in London, except for a stay at Brighton during the summer months and visits to his many friends. His father, the Marquis of Hendon, despaired of ever persuading him to take an interest in the vast estates that would be his one day, consoling himself with the thought that Lord Denham would be sufficiently wealthy to hire a dozen agents to take care of them for him. Mamas with eligible daughters had been chasing him for near a decade with no luck. It was generally said, waspishly, that he was too lazy to trouble himself to marry.

Lady Annabel, seeing his expression as he laughed with Lucy, wondered if he had been caught at last. Lucy obviously enjoyed being with him. She did not think there was any warmer feeling on her side, but, after all, the child was not even out yet.

Let her have a season of fun in London without any thought of marriage. She was pretty, of good birth, and would have twenty thousand pounds; sooner or later she would fall in love, and she was good enough for anyone. She would be more troubled by the need to beat off fortune hunters than to catch a husband, she thought proudly. But the warmth in Lord Denham’s eyes should not be dismissed lightly. Lucy might be as happy with him as she herself had been with Kit.

Richard was inquiring about the plot of the novel that Lucy had been reading to Miss Fell. Lucy related with glee the bloodcurdling tale of mysterious counts and sinister castles on remote peaks in Transylvania. Miss Fell listened with a quiet smile, now and then adding a detail. She seemed to have recovered completely the self-possession that appeared, on short acquaintance, to be a fixed part of her character. Lady Annabel slipped away to see Mrs. Bedford. The journey to London was to begin the day after next, and there was a great deal to be done.

One task that must be finished was the altering of several gowns to fit Miss Fell. Lady Annabel and Lucy had gone through their wardrobes and picked out suitable items. Lucy was somewhat shorter than Miss Fell and her clothes were designed for a schoolroom miss, while Lady Annabel was her height but quite different in build, and her clothes were designed for a widow. In spite of this, Miss Fell had adamantly refused to accept any new garments to be made up by the dressmaker in the village, so the two abigails and a maid had been set to work to alter and retrim enough of a wardrobe to make her at least presentable, if not elegant.

Miss Fell had also adamantly refused to join the Carstairs in London, until the alternatives were pointed out to her. She could not be left alone at Toblethorpe, nor could Miss Florence be expected to chaperone her for several months. Loath though she was to impose, she realized that she was not in a position to take care of herself. The clinching argument was the possibility of meeting in town someone who knew her.

“You will be of use to me in London,” Lady Annabel had assured her. “Lucy is a darling, but an exhausting companion, and you will be able to help me chaperone her. She loves you already.”

“No one could help loving her,” Miss Fell had replied. “My lady, without your kindness…” Her voice was suspended by tears.

Lady Annabel had held her close until she mastered herself. “You shall be a second daughter to me,” she had declared firmly. “I always wanted a larger family.”

Having inspected the progress on the clothing alterations, Lady Annabel made her way back to the morning room. Richard had gone off to consult with Jeremy Denison, and Lucy and Lord Denham were teaching Miss Fell to play backgammon, which she either did not know or had forgotten. She looked tired, and Lady Annabel told Lucy to fetch Richard to carry her back to her chamber.

“It is my turn,” Lord Denham protested.

Lady Annabel was a little startled. Then she reflected that, after all, both gentlemen were strangers to Miss Fell, and while she could not have asked Lord Denham to do it, it was not a bad idea that he should, making such attention from Richard seem less particular. So she agreed, and Miss Fell was borne back to bed.

That evening she was again slightly feverish and Lady Annabel would not let her come down the following morning. In the afternoon she felt so much better that Richard was called on again to assist her. He seemed to have decided to treat her as he might any friend of Lucy’s, and was able to relax and be natural. Miss Fell was grateful, both for his help and for his forbearance. Considering his reactions the previous day, she realized that he was making a deliberate effort to accept her and to forget her lack of family. She did not understand why it was so important to him, but it obviously was, and she appreciated his effort.

In fact, Richard had found it remarkably easy to put aside his prejudices, at least for the moment. The half-hour he had spent with her the day before had shown him that she must be gently bred. He had seen how his rejection had hurt her, and was ashamed of himself for injuring one who was so wholly at his mercy, and already in distress. His mother and sister had welcomed her into the family, could he do less? If she turned out to be a nobody, no harm had been done, and there was time enough to consider the matter when and if it arose.

He looked down at her as he carried her into the drawing room, and she smiled at him with gratitude. “Nobody” was the wrong word, he thought. With those eyes, that hair, she could never be that.

Miss Fell looked extremely well. The westering sun, shining again at last, lit her hair like glowing embers. Lady Annabel, busy at her embroidery, thought she and Richard made a charming picture as they bent over the backgammon board. Lucy and Lord Denham had ridden out as soon as the sun had showed itself, but Aunt Florence was expected at any minute, so Richard had stayed home. He was smiling at something Miss Fell had said, and Lady Annabel hoped further acquaintance would reconcile him to the necessity of her remaining with them.

Miss Fell observed how much that smile changed his face. She had seen him laughing with his sister and his friend yesterday, but today his smile was for her alone, and it made her heart turn over. Dismayed by her own reaction, she silently took herself to task as Richard pondered his next move. Nothing, she thought, could be so fatal as to fall in love. Besides, was she a schoolroom miss to fall for a charming smile? She turned her attention strictly to the game.