Page 16 of The Book of Lost Stories

‘I believe Sir Ralph knew how matters stood. There was no deceit,’ Alys said truthfully. ‘And although our income will be less than before, we will still have enough to manage on comfortably, in a modest sort of way. But I thank you for your kind concern.’

‘Well!’ Lady Basset said, rising to take a hasty turn or two about the small parlour, skirts swishing. ‘I think you will find London prices steep – quite beyond your purse – and how you are to pay Miss Grimshaw’s wages, I cannot think.’

‘Miss Grimshaw is my friend as well as my companion and would stay with me whether I paid her or not.’

‘Pray, when did you say you intended to remove to London?’

‘In April, when the lease falls vacant.’

‘The workmen will shortly begin to make some alterations to the Dower House in readiness for my mother and sisters. You would find yourselves uncomfortably circumstanced if you were to remain here while it was being carried out,’ Lady Basset said, then added with a wintry smile, ‘but James has it in mind to move you to a vacant cottage on the estate.’

Alys said nothing, biting her lip to stop the hasty words that would forever have estranged her from the Bassets.

Had it been in her power, she would have removed herself and Letty instantly, but could not imagine how it could be done economically.

But she could imagine what hovel her ladyship would think suitable to house them.

‘I dare say you cannot have much to pack,’ Lady Basset said, following some train of thought of her own.

‘No, we have few possessions that can be taken with us,’ Alys agreed. ‘And you can be sure that we will waste no time in leaving, once we are able to.’

‘As to that, you are a connection of my husband’s and we certainly do not intend to put you out of your home, of course, merely to remove you to one more fitting to your present circumstances.’

When she had gone and Pug was released from bondage in the kitchen, Alys relieved her feelings by hurling a particularly hideous vase into the fireplace. Lady Basset had probably already mentally catalogued it, but let her look for it in vain when she took triumphant possession of the Dower House.

My dear Alys,

You have been put into a quite untenable position, and I hate to think of you suffering under the tyranny of such a woman as the new Lady Basset. You and poor Miss Grimshaw cannot possibly live in some hovel on the estate until April.

I have given the matter some thought and believe I have a solution: you must come to stay with me in the New Year.

Now, do say you will, for I would like of all things to have a friend to take about with me.

And, of course, Miss Grimshaw is included in the invitation. should she wish to accompany you.

I have spoken of this to Mr Rivers, who says it is a capital idea, for I have become quite glum and mopish from one thing and another, and having a friend to stay might cheer me up …

Alys looked up from Nell’s letter and said, ‘There, is that not kind, Letty?’

‘Indeed it is, and to invite me, too – how thoughtful, and what a sweet girl your friend is! But should you be staying with Mrs Rivers, I would welcome the opportunity to visit my relatives in London.’

‘Well, this is certainly a solution, although I do hope it does not cramp the fashionable Mrs Rivers’ style, having such a country dowdy as myself staying with her.’

Of necessity, both were still attired in deepest mourning, having dyed all their gowns and retrimmed their bonnets with black ribbon.

‘But in London you might go into half-mourning, or even colours, for no one there will know precisely when the major died,’ suggested Letty. ‘I expect you will go into society with Mrs Rivers, you know, and you could not dance in your blacks.’

‘Since I cannot dance, that is of no moment. I have no desire to cut a dash in society, even if I could,’ Alys said, laughing.

‘But I am sure Mrs Rivers moves in the best circles, and I dare say will take you about with her.’

‘Not once she has seen the shabby figure I present. I promise you, she will be very glad to leave me to my own devices while she gads about. No, I have several things I mean to do while I am staying with her, such as discussing with your nephew whether we should let my publishers into the secret of my authorship or leave my identity a secret. Then, too, I want to look over my house, visit museums, concerts, exhibitions … the Tower with the wild beasts … oh, all the things I have only heard about!’

‘But if you furbish yourself up a trifle, under Mrs Rivers’ aegis you might very well meet an eligible parti, for I am sure you are pretty enough, despite your lack of fortune.’

‘I am an old maid of almost four and twenty! And in any case, I have no wish to get married, Letty.’

‘I know you have often jokingly said so, dearest Alys, but surely …’

Alys rose and walked up and down the little parlour impatiently.

‘Oh, I did have romantic dreams when I was younger, I admit, but they took a severe knock in Harrogate. And what examples of happy marriage do I have to inspire me to follow suit? Mama and Papa could not have been happy together, Lady Basset was deeply unhappy, and James is set to live under the cat’s foot! ’

‘But I am sure there are many happy marriages: your friend Mrs Rivers, for one.’

‘Perhaps,’ Alys said dubiously, for that all was not as it should be in the Rivers household was becoming plain to her, reading between the lines of Nell’s letters. ‘And do not forget, should it be discovered that I am the author of such infamous novels, then there would be no hope for me at all.’

‘No one need find out. And if you should meet some amiable, eligible man, I hope you will at least consider his offer.’

‘I am unlikely to meet such a paragon, and who would marry me , past my prime and with barely sixpence to scratch myself with?’

‘Alys, that is a most unladylike turn of phrase! And you do not look your age in the least.’

Alys laughed and thanked her, but she could see that Letty still thought marriage was the ultimate prize in life, whereas she had come instead to yearn only for a little house of her very own, with no demanding, autocratic man ruling the roost. Most women must wait for widowhood to reward them with their independence, but hers was almost within her grasp.

‘Then it is decided. I will go and stay with Mrs Rivers for a time – although not to husband-hunt – and you will enjoy making a visit to your nephew and his family, will you not?’

‘Oh, yes, I cannot wait to see the dear children. But pray, Alys, do not entirely close your mind to the idea of a respectable alliance should you receive an offer, for what if sales of your books fall off, or the fashion for the Gothic tale ceases, or—’

‘If that were to happen, then I would write something else,’ Alys said, although such spectres as Letty mentioned frequently haunted her dreams. ‘But I promise to have as good a time as I can while I am staying with Nell, if that will please you. And I will come and see you in Cheapside and tell you all about it.’

‘Alys, have you thought that you might meet Lord Rayven in London?’ Miss Grimshaw ventured. ‘Will that not be awkward?’

‘I expect he moves in very different circles, for once he inherited he became vastly wealthy and a most eligible bachelor. Nell says he is now a “buck of the first head”, whatever that may be! I dare say I will not see him at all.’

‘Let us hope not, but you might very well meet your maternal relatives, for although your grandfather does not now often leave his house, your aunt is in society, is she not?’

‘Yes, and her daughter, Arabella, is out. Nell has met her, but I dare say they will not deign to recognize me even if we should be in the same room together. I don’t expect their notice.

I must say, though, I would like to meet Grandfather’s heir, Nathaniel Hartwood,’ Alys added teasingly.

‘Nell says he is the handsomest man in London. Indeed, from the brief glimpse I once had of him in Harrogate, I believe she is saying no more than the truth.’

‘Oh, pray do not lose your heart to someone unattainable, Alys!’

‘I do not intend to lose my heart at all,’ she replied, thinking affectionately that it would be odd to be separated from her quiet, kind companion after so many years together in rural isolation.

She looked forward to telling James and Charlotte of her plans in the airiest way possible at a suitable moment.

It would brighten what looked likely to be a dismal Christmas, especially since the arrival of Charlotte’s mama and sisters, who frequently invaded the Dower House without a by-your-leave, to squabble over bedchambers and hangings.

*

Due to a sudden and obstinate burst of conscience on James’s part, Alys and Letty set off for London in the antiquated family coach, travelling by very easy stages.

This was preferable to the stagecoach, which might have been faster, but uncomfortable and quite an expense, and it had the added advantage that they might take all their belongings with them at once.

It was a chilly February, but at least the roads were free of snow as they set off.

Only James had come to see them depart, and when his stout figure was finally obscured by a turn in the drive, Letty dissolved into tears over Pug, who was clutched in her arms wrapped in an old shawl like an exceedingly ugly infant.

Alys succumbed to no such excess of sensibility, but wrote her way through several counties and a succession of unexciting inns.

Suddenly, something extremely odd was happening to her characters. Simon de Lombard seemed determined to break out of his villainous mould and prove himself to be a man of honour, while behind her hero’s fair face lay a dark and devious mind.

It was all strangely exciting.

*

Alys looked up with a sigh and stretched her stiff fingers as they approached the modest inn where they were to spend their very last night on the road.

‘Letty, if Sir Walter Scott is ever to read this novel, I am sure he will consider my “pure vestal light” to be quite burned out!’

Letty, so huddled in cloaks and shawls and scarves that only her little pink nose was easily visible, was just about to answer when there was a sudden jolt and a mighty rending of metal and wood. Then the coach tipped over, sending them tumbling to the floor in a heap.

It came to rest at an angle, one upper wheel spinning crazily, the other splintered, while the horses plunged nervously in the traces.

Inside the dark coach there was a moment’s silence. Then Miss Grimshaw sat up, murmuring distressfully, ‘Oh dear, oh dear !’

Pug sat on Alys’s chest and licked her face until she pushed him off and struggled to her feet.

‘Are you all right, dearest Letty?’ she enquired, making her out in the gloom.

‘I believe so,’ Letty quavered. ‘A little bruised, perhaps.’

‘I, too, but I must get out and see what the damage is. How slow they are in releasing us.’ She reached up and pushed at the door above her unavailingly.

It was suddenly wrenched back from outside and a pair of strong hands was extended, into which she automatically put her own.

A deep and odiously familiar voice drawled, ‘Allow me!’ before ruthlessly dragging her upwards into the light.