An Unexpected Love (7 page)

“I was not aware that Lord Ashley was out of the country. He must have left quite recently.”

‘Indeed. My parents are holidaying in the Balkans.'

She was not going to mention the real reason for her father's trip. That he was journeying on Foreign Office affairs was no one's business but his.

‘Leaving you on your own?'

Ravina sighed.

“Are we to have another conversation where you warn me about my riotous behaviour?”

Sir Richard shrugged and was about to speak when a footman arrived with the coffee on a silver salver.

Ravina noticed that he drank it black with no sugar and then was annoyed with herself for bothering to watch what he did.

The thin porcelain cup looked small in his lean tanned hand. It was obvious from his appearance that he had been abroad quite recently and she wondered where.

“I have the utmost respect for Lord Ashley. Far be it for me to question your parents” decisions regarding you in any way. I just feel that a young lady should be aware that everything she does and says in public plays a part in how she is perceived by the world at large. Sometimes an older, wiser head can divert trouble before it occurs.”

“So you believe I am incapable of making correct decisions for myself?”

Ravina found she was beginning to get annoyed all over again. This man was so infuriating. He treated her as if she was ten – no six!

Sir Richard carefully placed his coffee cup back on the tray.

He was deeply worried that Lady Ravina was on her own, here in the depths of Dorset. But he did not want to scare her, just make her a little more aware that you could not trust everyone you met.

She stood up and walked over to him.

“I suppose you are one of those old-fashioned men who think a husband should make every decision in a family and that his wife should just nod sweetly and agree, even if she thinks he is wrong.”

His dark eyes suddenly looked unhappy and his mouth tightened.

“I am not in a position to judge family life as such, ma'am.”

There was a silence again before Ravina asked,

“You wished to see my father? May I enquire the nature of your business? Can I give him a message or help in some way?”

Sir Richard stood up and she was aware again of how tall he was.

“I met Lord Ashley when we were both in Greece. He mentioned the beauty of the Dorset countryside and suggested I call on him when I returned to England. He knew I would be in the market for an estate as I wish to breed horses and he said he would give me any advice he could.”

Ravina stared at him, unsure of what to say.

‘Goodness,' she thought, ‘everyone seems to be moving to Dorset!'

She wondered which property her father had been thinking about.

“So if you can think of any large comfortable houses around this neighbourhood – with enough ground for horses, I would be grateful for your help.”

Sir Richard leant his arm against the marble mantelpiece and stared down at her.

“Indeed, a house similar to that owned by the man who travelled with you today would be exactly right. Perhaps he would be willing to sell it to me? As you are obviously great friends, what do you think?”

Ravina became aware that colour was flooding into her cheeks.

“Sir Michael is not a ‘great friend' of mine, sir. He is a kind and attentive acquaintance and a near neighbour. I have no idea of his future plans, but I think from all he has told me, that he will never sell the Priory.”

“Then I shall have to look elsewhere, will I not?”

For a second, Ravina thought she detected a twinkle of amusement in Sir Richard's dark eyes, but then chided herself for being fanciful.

She had been sure that he was the type of man she detested the most – one who had no sense of humour whatsoever.

“I will certainly ask amongst my friends in the area,” she continued. “If there are any suitable properties for sale locally, someone will surely know.”

Sir Richard bowed gravely.

“You have my thanks, Lady Ravina. And now – ” he pulled a slim gold watch from his waistcoat pocket, “I have another favour to ask. As my horse is lame, I would be grateful to stay the night here at Curbishley Hall. I could, of course, make my way to the local hostelry, but – ”

Ravina hesitated.

She was certain that if her parents had been at home, they would have offered him all the hospitality for which they were famous.

But was it proper for her to have a strange man staying in the house, even though she was, of course, well chaperoned by Dulcie and all the staff?

She took a deep breath.

She was being old-fashioned. She who prided herself on being as modern and up-to-date as possible. In this day and age she could surely make her own decisions.

“Of course not, sir. My parents would be shocked to hear that you had been turned away. I will arrange for a room to be made ready for you at once.”

Sir Richard bowed again and watched as Ravina rang for Gibbs and gave him the necessary instructions.

He was more than thankful that she had given in to her more impulsive nature and allowed him to stay. For a moment he had been worried in case a more mature Lady Ravina had surfaced and he had been forced to leave.

It was imperative that he stayed in the house this evening. She was in great danger, but he was not sure from which direction it would strike.

But strike it would.

The stakes were too great.

He cursed silently that he had no name to put behind the rumours that had sent him on this difficult and delicate mission.

Ravina left Sir Richard to Gibbs, ran up the stairs and tapped on Dulcie's door.

“Dulcie. Are you awake? I need to speak to you.”

There was a rustling and the door opened a crack to reveal Dulcie, wrapped in her long dressing–gown, her hair twirled up inside a soft cotton sleeping cap.

“Ravina. Whatever is wrong? Is there a fire?”

“No, of course not. I am so sorry to waken you, but I just wanted to let you know that Sir Richard Crawford is staying the night.”

“What? Gibbs told me that he had just called to see your father?”

“Yes, he did, but his horse is lame and I cannot send him away to spend the night at the
Blue Boar
in Rosbourne. Father would be furious if I did.”

Dulcie clutched the collar of her gown tightly to her neck.

“Oh, dear, Ravina. I really do not feel that this is wise.”

Ravina smiled and patted her cousin's arm.

“Do not fret so, Dulcie dear. Gibbs will prepare a room for him in the guest wing and I am sure he will be up and away early in the morning before we are even awake. I will leave instructions that he can stable his horse here until it recovers and take one of our mounts to carry him on his way.”

She left Dulcie still murmuring her objections and slipped away to her own room where Charity helped her unpin her long blonde hair and prepare her for bed.

But when Charity had gone, Ravina felt too restless to sleep.

She turned off the oil lamp and pushing aside the pale blue curtains from the windows, she opened the casements to let in the soft night air.

Ravina's room was at the side of the house overlooking the gardens that swept down to the river beyond.

All was quiet and dark outside.

Nothing moved in the still night, until the crunching of gravel caught her attention and she leant further out to see a dark shape walking round the side of the house.

It was only one of the young footmen carrying a large box which Ravina recognised as one that her father had sent down from London containing a variety of provisions.

Ravina sighed.

She plucked one of the small yellow roses that rambled up the wall and cascaded over her windowsill all summer long. It had a sweet, heady scent like honey.

‘I wonder if Sir Richard is asleep,' she thought.

It was odd to think of that tall, stern-faced man lying in bed in the other wing of the house.

‘He is a strange gentleman. So severe and difficult, but sometimes there is an expression in his eyes which makes me think that under that austere surface is a person I could, perhaps, come to like.'

She fell into a deep reverie and had no idea how long she had been sitting at the window, when the gravel on the pathway beneath her crunched again and Ravina glanced down casually from her perch, expecting to see the footman again.

Then she gulped and drew back behind the curtains.

It was Sir Richard!

Wrapped in a long black cloak, he was prowling along the path and then, as if he realised the gravel was giving away his position, he stepped onto the lawn and vanished into the shadows cast by a tall beech tree.

Ravina sat watching for another half hour but Sir Richard did not reappear.

Eventually, puzzled, she climbed into bed.

‘Perhaps he had felt ill and needed the fresh air. Maybe he had taken one brandy too many after I had left him in the drawing room.'

She knew several of her father's guests had often been in the same inebriated state after formal dinners.

Ravina had learnt from her mother that you noted, but did not comment. You just pretended that nothing had happened.

She returned to her bed, snuggling down amongst the lace, lavender-scented pillows.

She wrinkled her nose.

She might be able to ignore drunkenness in a stranger, but she had never seen her dear Papa the worse for drink and she knew she could never love a man who spent so much time in his cups.

And as she finally drifted off to sleep, she was glad that the next day Sir Richard Crawford would be gone.

*

Along the corridor, Dulcie was still awake. She had lit the oil lamp in her room and sat staring at her face in the dressing table mirror.

‘When did I grow so old?' she murmured as she ran her fingers over her cheeks.

Even in the warm light from the lamp, she looked pale and no amount of smoothing would remove the frown line from between her brows.

She knew she had so much to be thankful for – a home, a job, food and clothing. But oh, how wearying it was to always be grateful, especially to Ravina Ashley!

Dulcie loved her cousin, but often wondered where her headstrong ways would lead her.

She pictured Ravina as she had been this evening – excited, happy, full of the joys of youth and beauty.

Ravina had never wanted for anything in her whole life. She only had to ask and it was given to her.

‘And at the moment Ravina obviously likes Sir Michael,' Dulcie whispered and the light from the lamp blurred as tears filled her eyes.

She brushed them away impatiently. She was being silly. Why should Ravina not enjoy Sir Michael's company?

So what if he was considerably older than her? It would still make a good match. He was rich, she was titled and they both had social standing, loved horses and country life. What could be more suitable than a marriage between them?

Dulcie stood up wearily, blew out the lamp and climbed into bed.

She lay gazing up at the ceiling remembering the glorious day she had spent at the Priory, helping Sir Michael choose curtains for his drawing room and advising him on the pictures to be hung in the dining room.

For a few hours she had forgotten that she was Dulcie Allen, the poor relation, housekeeper and companion. She had once again been Miss Allen of the Laurels, Little Emsworthy, a girl with a loving father, a comfortable home and a future before her.

A future that had been ruined by the wicked man who had cheated her father of his money, whose name she had never known, but whose face was etched in her mind for ever.

Dulcie slid her hand up under her pillow and her fingers closed gently around a square of linen.

A gentleman's handkerchief, still ironed into a perfect square, that Sir Michael had used to remove a piece of grit from her eye on that memorable day.

And holding it close to her heart, she finally fell asleep.

The following morning, Ravina rose early. Charity helped her into a pale blue dress laced through at the neck and cuffs with dark sapphire ribbons.

Holding back her cascading curls with another length of dark blue velvet, she finished off with small blue leather slippers.

As she walked along the corridor leading to the wide staircase, she felt happy and full of the joys a beautiful summer day can bring.

Ravina was looking forward to her breakfast and anxious to see Dulcie to arrange her visit to the Priory for lunch with Sir Michael.

Would she stay there for a few nights as he had requested?

No, she felt that would not be prudent. Her parents expected her to be here at Curbishley Hall in case there were any emergencies on the estate that only her word as an Ashley could resolve.

As she reached the stairs, she paused. She could hear voices from the hall below and stopped to peer over the banister.

To her astonishment, Sir Richard Crawford was standing talking to Nanny Johnson!

Whatever he was saying, the old lady was listening, nodding and obviously replying, reaching up to pat his shoulder as she spoke.

As Ravina watched, the tall dark man put his hand under the old lady's arm and assisted her across the hall towards the long corridor that ran towards the baize door leading to the servants' quarters.

As they passed under the stairway, she could hear Sir Richard laughing and the throaty cackle of Nanny's reply.

Ravina picked up her skirts and swiftly ran down the stairs. What could her nanny have to say to Sir Richard?

That was the first time Ravina had heard him laugh.

It made her feel odd to see his stern face soften into such a pleasant expression.

She caught up with Nanny just as she was sitting herself down at the kitchen table, ready for her breakfast.

Ravina knelt at her side.

“Nanny, dear, how are you this morning?”

The old lady's sharp dark eyes gleamed.

“Get up off the floor at once, Lady Ravina. You'll make that dress dirty and I certainly did not bring you up to behave in such a rumbustious fashion.”