Page 25 of Secrecy (The Chaplain’s Legacy #4)

T ess was fascinated to hear of Mrs Clegg.

“But she must be Miss Carlisle!” she said delightedly. “It is her good taste in all the furnishings. Things were much better in Miss Carlisle’s day, according to Mrs Harris, the cook. Best cuts of meat, and plenty of it. Then, when my father took over, penny-pinching was the order of the day. I should so like to meet Mrs Clegg. Might we invite her here? She could show us the davenport she would like, because there are at least two. The spinet she may have, and the vases, for I do not care for them.”

“Lord Rennington would not like you to give away such objects, however worthy the cause,” Edward said. “He and the other trustees have a duty to look after your inheritance.”

“Well, perhaps I shall invite her to live here, then. The house should not be left empty.”

“Again, it is for your trustees to determine what happens to the house. They may decide to sell it.”

“But I do not want it sold. Perhaps I shall live here myself, with Mrs Clegg as my companion.”

Edward huffed in annoyance. “Tess, you are incorrigible! Your uncle will never approve of such a woman as your companion. If you want to live here as a single woman, and personally I do not see why you should not, you must at all costs have a companion who can also act as chaperon, and who will give you consequence. You could not choose anyone less suitable than Mrs Clegg.”

“Then I shall just have to marry Ulric. Then I could live here with whomever I choose, and my uncle would have nothing to say about it.”

Edward’s face darkened, but he did not deign to respond to this provocation. He had reverted to his stuffy self, and there had been no more kisses, but he followed her everywhere she went, looking thoroughly disapproving. She had found a few outstanding bills in a drawer, so she had filled her purse from the cash box in the room above the coach house, and walked around town discharging the debts. Edward walked beside her in silence for the whole time.

He was with her when she called upon Mrs Clegg.

“You have a look of your father,” that lady said when she saw Tess. “The chin in particular, and around the mouth, I think, although your hair is much darker than his.”

She had tea brought, with a plum cake, and the three of them sat, the two ladies chattering away as if they had known each other forever, and Edward sitting stiff and silent on the edge of his chair. He sipped his tea, but refused the cake. Tess had three cups of tea and four slices of plum cake, and felt pleasantly full.

“You see?” she said, as they walked back to Apstead House afterwards, Harold following at a respectful distance. “What a charming lady! She would suit me perfectly as a companion. I shall write to Uncle Charles and see what he says. Naturally, I shall describe Mrs Clegg as a respectable widow, which she was, once, before she met my grandfather. And if he agrees to it, I need not marry Ulric at all. There! That should please you.”

He raised his brows disdainfully. “Do you care whether I am pleased?”

“Not a great deal, no, although you are vastly better company when you are in a good mood.”

“Do you want to cry off this visit to Myercroft?” he said.

She frowned while she thought about it. “No, for Uncle Charles may say no, and then we should need to arrange the visit for another time. It is not as if I can marry Ulric before the spring anyway. Let us go to Myercroft as planned. Besides, it might be disruptive to Ulric to have everything changed at the last minute.”

“Do you know, that is the first sign I have seen of you considering Ulric’s feelings. Well done.”

“I am not quite the unfeeling monster you imagine me to be, Edward. I have no wish to upset Ulric… or anyone. It is only that sometimes what I wish to do is in conflict with other people’s ideas of what is proper.”

“It is not merely about propriety, Tess, for that would affect only you. What you choose to do affects a great many people. This proposed marriage to Ulric affects all of his family, and the Petersons, too. It affects me, and through me, my mother and aunt. It affects your own mother, and her family.”

“Yes, yes, I take your point! I do understand, I promise you, and if there were another way—”

“There are plenty of other ways,” he said, his voice icy. “You just will not see them. We leave for Myercroft tomorrow. If you wish to write to Lord Rennington, I suggest you do so today. He can direct his reply to you at Myercroft.”

He strode ahead of her, his long legs soon leaving her behind.

Now why did she feel so bereft?

***

T he journey north was not a pleasant one. Two days on the road with Edward glowering and silent on the opposite seat was enough to put even the calmest person out of frame, and Tess was far from calm. She was unaccountably nervous about meeting Ulric again, for one thing. It was six weeks since she had seen him, and it was entirely possible that he had forgotten that he was betrothed to her. That would make life difficult! Then there were the Petersons to face, and while Lady Peterson’s letter was polite enough, they must resent her coming, for it heralded the loss of their home for many years.

Most of all, however, there would be nowhere to hide herself away at Myercroft. Even if she knew the house intimately, as the guest of honour she would be expected to be visible at all times. She was not sure she could cope with that. Her greatest comfort in difficult times was to keep to the shadows and the safe places where she would be, not precisely invisible, but overlooked.

And beneath all these surface worries was a deeper one — was this truly the best way to proceed? She no longer knew. Marrying Ulric was a risk. There were risks whoever she married, for marriage was itself a chancy business, but Ulric was even more of an unknown quantity than most husbands would be. If he decided not to cede control of her fortune to her, as he certainly could, then she would have tied herself to him for no purpose. Perhaps it would be more sensible to withdraw, and wait for a better choice to come her way. It would be humiliating to be forced to admit that she had made a mistake, especially as Edward would be triumphant, but it would be foolish to marry Ulric just to spite Edward.

Ah, yes. Edward. She knew perfectly well that her feelings for him were utterly confused. When he was lighthearted and teasing, as he could be when he talked about eloping or being a highwayman, he was the greatest fun to be with, and she had no quarrel with him. When he climbed trees for her, she could admire him. When he pressed her to marry him with flattering urgency, and was wreathed in gloom when she refused, she could even pity him. And when he kissed her… oh, yes, when he kissed her, she could almost surrender to him entirely.

But then he would revert to his unyielding expression, as if he disapproved of everything around him, and she remembered why she disliked him so much.

“Are you angry with me?” she asked him as they waited for a change of horses. Betty had gone to find food, so they were alone in the carriage.

He looked startled. “Angry? No, of course not.”

“Then why do you glare at me so?”

“I was not aware that I was doing any such thing,” he said stiffly. “I shall try to avert my gaze in future if it offends you.”

“You may look where you please, I am sure, but will you not at least talk to me now and then?”

“I am not minded for conversation at present.”

“A game of chess, perhaps?”

“No, thank you.”

Tess gave it up. As soon as they left the posting house, he closed his eyes and leaned his head against the squabs, but he was not asleep, Tess was sure of that. Still, it was an effective way of avoiding her and it left her free to look at him as much as she chose.

He was certainly worth looking at. She had always thought Tom the handsomest man she had ever met, but Edward was even more well-favoured, when he was not looking down his supercilious nose at her. And he always looked so well turned out, as if he had just that moment stepped out from his dressing room. He never had a wayward curl in his hair or wilting shirt points or a waistcoat of an odd, mismatched colour. He was effortlessly elegant, as most men of his rank were, and she could not help despising him for it. All it proved was that he was rich and had neither the need nor desire to do anything useful with his life. Men of his class frittered away their lives in idleness or pointless pursuits that served only to fill the endless hours between breakfast and dinner, and between dinner and whenever the brandy ran out.

Edward was just another effete aristocrat, drifting effortlessly through life on charmed wings.

And yet he loved her! That was an astonishing thing, and if she had been any other girl, the daughter of a gentleman and niece of an earl, she would have grabbed him with both hands. A baron with twelve thousand a year! Such a triumph to attach such a man — how could she possibly turn him down?

It was a difficult question to answer rationally. She had told him that she could not do it because her mother would approve the match, but that was a foolish reason. If she married Edward, all the uncertainty that plagued her regarding Ulric would vanish. She would have her fifty thousand pounds without conditions — he had promised it. At a pinch, she could pretend she was not Lady Tarvin, but was merely Mrs Edward Harfield.

But then there would be babies and houses to run and servants to manage and tenants to be visited, and all the trappings of the aristocratic life that she so fervently wished to avoid. And there was no knowing which manifestation of Lord Tarvin would step out of bed each morning — the amusing and agreeable one, or the sternly disapproving one. Did she want to live her entire life wondering what sort of husband she was going to meet over the breakfast table each day?

For the whole journey, these thoughts cantered around in Tess’s head in a most disagreeable manner, and at the end of two days, she was no nearer to finding a resolution.

They were to spend one night at Harfield Priory, so that Edward’s mother could dote on her only child for a few hours. Tess had no objection to that, for Edward would be the great attraction and she could hide herself in corners.

Mrs Harfield fell on her son as if he had travelled to India and back, instead of trotting round a small portion of Yorkshire. Wreathed in smiles, she led him into the house and it was only with an effort that he disentangled himself and escaped to his room. Within minutes, she was banging on his bedroom door to urge him to hurry downstairs, for she had received a letter from Lady something-or-other with great news which she could not wait to impart.

Edward, naturally, took his time, and Tess had been seated in the Blue Saloon making desultory conversation for some time before he put in an appearance.

“There you are, dear Edward!” his mother cried. “Do come and listen to this for it is such an opportunity for you.”

“In one moment, Mother,” he said, and proceeded to make his bow to Lady Tarvin, seating himself beside her to make the usual enquiries as to health, while his mother squirmed with impatience.

Eventually, she could bear it no longer. “Edward, what do you think! Lady Henrietta is in Durham — there! Is that not fortuitous? She arrived just two days ago and is fixed for at least a sennight, perhaps longer, so if you make haste—”

“I am bound for Myercroft, Mother.”

“Oh yes, but the Petersons will not object if you delay for a few days in such a cause.”

“I have no intention of doing so, however.”

“But Edward, such a splendid opportunity may never again arise. The daughter of a marquess, you know. What could be better?”

He rose and walked across to the fireplace, where a low fire burned unenthusiastically. “Mother, let us be clear on one point. I have not the least interest in Lady Henrietta.”

She raised her eyebrows in delicate disbelief. “No interest? After you pursued her so relentlessly in the spring? Oh — have you quarrelled with her? But that can be remedied if—”

“No!” he said forcefully. Then, more gently, he went on, “No, Mother. Say no more of Lady Henrietta.”

“Oh. Very well, dear. But Lady Anne—”

“Enough! I have no wish to discuss my marriage prospects.”

“But, Edward, you must take thought for the future. You must—”

“I must? I must, Mother? Do not tell me what I must do! Neither you nor anyone else has the right to order me so.”

“Not an order, Edward. Heavens, what do you take me for? My only aim is to be of service to you. Since you do need to marry, and sooner rather than later, my only object is to assist you along that path.”

“If you had any care for my feelings,” he said, his anger barely suppressed, “you would not mention the subject. I believe now that I shall never marry. I intend to take an interest in my cousin Tostig, to see that he is properly educated and trained to take my place after my death, so you may forget about Lady Henrietta and Lady Anne and all these other dull, uninteresting women. There is not one of them who has a spark of life about her, and I would rather die a bachelor than marry any of them. Pray do not mention this subject in my presence again. I have letters to write, so I shall see you at dinner, Mother. Lady Tarvin. Miss Nicholson.”

With a sweeping bow, he left the room in haste, shutting the door behind him with some force.

“Oh, dear,” Lady Tarvin murmured.

Mrs Harfield burst into tears. “I suppose he fell in love with one of them and she rejected him,” she sobbed. “My poor Edward! How he must be suffering!”

“He will make a recover, I am sure,” Lady Tarvin said. “Young men are resilient. He will find another young lady before too long. Who do you think it was? I cannot recall that he spoke more of one lady above another.”

This was a happy thought, for it diverted Mrs Harfield out of her tears and into lengthy speculation as to which of the high-born young ladies from town had broken his heart. Neither of them looked across the room to where Tess was quietly leafing through a journal, or suspected that the wayward daughter of a murdered chaplain might hold the answer to the question.

Dinner was a somewhat strained affair, with Edward studiedly polite, his mother silent and Lady Tarvin, not much of a chatterer, struggling to eke out what little conversation there was. Tess would have contributed, but there appeared to be a prohibition on every topic. Apart from asking after her mother — or ‘poor bereaved Lady Alice’ , as Lady Tarvin put it — and the rest of the earl’s family, there seemed to be nothing left to say. The murder was too dreadful for the delicate female sensibilities of the Priory ladies, and Tess had no wish to discuss her inheritance, for fear of veering off into difficult areas like pretend housemaids, tree climbing barons and embezzling chaplains.

So she and Lady Tarvin talked with great perseverance of the journey north, the state of the roads and, when all else failed, of the unsettled autumn weather. Edward contributed the odd word, but it was so obviously such a strain for him that Tess took far more than her usual share of the conversation to spare him.

When the ladies withdrew, leaving Edward to his solitary port, Mrs Harfield at once burst into voice. “My poor boy! I see it now, his pain and sorrow. How he must feel it! She rejected him, no doubt, but in what manner? I hope she was kind to him. Perhaps if he tries again… it must be Lady Anne, I think. Considering all that he said over the last few months, I feel it will be the lady he spoke about the least who has captured his heart, and he seldom mentioned her, you know, after the first time or two. One never talks about matters closest to the heart. That will be it — Lady Anne is the one. My poor, poor Edward!”

Tess said nothing, although the words ‘I hope she was kind to him’ echoed guiltily in her head. She had not been kind to him at all, and now he was suffering because of her. Was that why he had been so silent on the journey? He had looked so severe that she had assumed he was angry with her, but was he simply hiding a broken heart? Poor Edward indeed. And it was her fault, she admitted uncomfortably. She had never quite taken his proposals seriously, for why would a man like that even look at a contrary girl like her? And then he had protested that she was tormenting him.

She determined that she would mend her ways and be kinder to Edward.

When Edward joined the ladies in the Blue Saloon, he said, “Mother, Jeffries tells me that this Ramsbottom fellow called here again.”

“Oh, I had almost forgotten that in all the excitement of your arrival. I wish you would get rid of him.”

“I would do so if I had the slightest idea who he might be, but I am not acquainted with anyone of that name.”

“Acquainted! I do not believe he is a person one would be acquainted with. He has the air of a tradesman about him.”

Edward raised delicately arched eyebrows. “And what is a tradesman doing bouncing all over the north of England looking for me? He has been here twice, and to Corland once, and at one point he was sent to York.”

“Well, Jeffries sent him back to Corland,” Lady Tarvin said. “I must say, it is most intriguing, Edward. What on earth can the man want? Whatever it is, he is most determined to see you, and he will not write any message for you. Jeffries even suggested he might care to talk to an attorney, and make his approach that way, but he would have none of it.”

“Whoever he is and whatever he wants, we do not want him here,” Mrs Harfield said firmly. “Edward, dear, ring for the tea, will you, and perhaps then we might have a rubber or two of whist before bed, if that would amuse you.”

He did not look as if it would amuse him at all, but perhaps he had no more energy for fighting, for he tamely agreed to it at once, and for the rest of the evening not a syllable of consequence was uttered.