Authors: Angel
Though there was plenty of room on the rock, Sir Gregory did not at once join her. He shaded his eyes and gazed after the rest of the party, then, apparently satisfied that they were sufficiently distant, turned to her with a perfectly serious face.
“Miss Sutton,” he began, “I have not until now had an opportunity to apologise to you for my disgraceful behaviour last week. I hope I have at last been forgiven, but I am aware that your good nature has had a long struggle to overcome your natural aversion for my company.”
Crimson, eyes fixed firmly on his boots, Catherine mumbled an incoherent mixture of affirmation and denial, hardly sure herself which was which. He made a motion to take her hand, then drew back deliberately.
“The only excuse I have,” he revealed, and now the laughter was back in his voice, “is that you were irresistible. But I will be good, Miss Sutton, I promise. Only do not again tempt me by moonlight!”
“Such was hardly my intention!” she retorted.
“No, I was to blame. Say you are not angry with me, and then if you are rested we had best resume our upward struggle before someone thinks an accident has befallen us.”
Catherine sighed. “I am not still angry with you, Sir Gregory, though I have a lowering feeling that I ought to be. I fear I am sadly lacking in sensibility, a mortifying reflection.” She rose. “Oh, dear, how much farther have we to go?”
It was not far. The ground levelled off, then suddenly fell away before them, leaping and bounding precipitously in a jumble of rocks towards the narrow valley invisible below. The valleys were mere creases in the wrinkled face of the world. Range after range of rounded mountaintops spread to the horizon, and above them in the cloudless sky, eagles wheeled and soared effortlessly.
Even Lord Welch was bereft of speech. Several minutes of silence ensued, which were ended by Abel.
“Ye’ll be ready to go down?” he suggested.
There was a general cry of outrage and he looked abashed.
“Soulless yokel,” murmured the viscount to Angel. Rather uncertainly he pointed out the summits of Sca Fell, Great Gable, and Skiddaw. “Dash it, Miss Brand, I don’t know! They all look much the same to me.”
Angel had to agree. The overwhelming effect of the sudden distances was wearing off and she was beginning to be sharp set by pangs of hunger. To admit this, she felt, would be to classify herself as another “soulless yokel,” but she did go so far as to sit down on a rocky outcrop, where his lordship joined her.
A few admiring remarks were exchanged upon the clarity of the air, the warmth of the sun, the desirability of being able to float with the eagles. Then Angel noticed that her companion was regarding Beth and Gerald, hand in hand at the edge of the precipice, with an air of smug complacency.
“Do you not mind them being so happy together?” she asked with her usual lack of ceremony. “Are you being noble or do you not wish to marry Beth any longer?”
“I have every expectation and intention of marrying her,” he said smoothly. “That being so, there can be no harm in allowing her to sow a few wild oats first. She will behave differently when she is my wife.”
Angel thought it highly unlikely that Beth would change her mind, the glories of Upthwaite Park notwithstanding, but she hesitated to disillusion the viscount. As long as he was sure that she would turn to him in the end, he would not harass her and, it seemed, was even prepared to be pleasant to Mr Leigh. Angel did wonder how he would react when he realised that he had no hope of winning her. She hoped he would continue to be noble, though rather suspecting that he might cut up stiff.
She changed the subject to one of more immediate interest.
“I’m hungry,” she announced loudly.
Walking down the steep paths turned out to be almost as exhausting as climbing up had been, but considerably quicker. They were soon slipping and sliding down the slope to the shepherd’s hut, to be welcomed rapturously by Osa and the shepherd, and with relief by Lord Dominic.
They drank from the tumbling beck, and then saddlebags were opened to reveal a veritable feast, while the old man produced a battered tin kettle of tea as his contribution.
After eating, Angel and Dominic wandered off in search of wild flowers. Beth and Gerald soon followed suit, in the opposite direction, and after a few minutes Lord Welch went after them.
“I hope he is not going to make a nuisance of himself,” said Catherine lazily, settling herself in a more comfortable position on the rug-covered grass. “He has been amazingly agreeable today.”
“He has indeed,” said Sir Gregory with a frown. “As if butter would not melt in his mouth. Now what does he have up his sleeve, I wonder?”
“Must he have something up his sleeve?”
“I’ll wager he’s not given up hope of Beth’s dowry so easily. Did you notice the state of his fields as we passed?”
“Thistles and ragweed. Can you think of no pleasanter topic than neglected farmland for such a perfect day?”
“I’m sorry. But there is another unpleasant subject I must introduce, I fear. What do you know of Dom being involved in a shooting accident?”
“Did Beth tell you about that?” Catherine was suddenly wary. If, as she was more and more certain, he was innocent, she did not want to hurt him by letting him know he was under suspicion. And if by some horrid chance he had contrived the incident, then that knowledge might drive him to make another and perhaps more successful attempt.
“She mentioned it in passing,” said the baronet. “If you can supply the details, I shall be very grateful.”
Did he want to know where his plan had gone wrong, or was he concerned for his cousin’s safety? Either case pointed to a real danger for Lord Dominic, and she was suddenly afraid for him. It seemed all too likely, now she considered, that such a careless young man might have made enemies he was unaware of.
She could see no harm in telling the full story just as Angel had insisted on recounting it to her. Sir Gregory listened carefully, asked a few questions, and thanked her.
“Why do you want to know?” she enquired at last. “Do you think it was not an accident?”
“I’m sorry, Miss Sutton, I cannot tell you at present.” He was frowning again, and thoughtful, and she was glad to see Angel and Dom returning.
“Look, Catherine!” cried Angel, displaying a handful of flowers. “I brought you the prettiest ones. This is lady’s slipper, and this with the tiny face is heartsease, and this one is toadflax. If you press the sides it opens its mouth!”
“Just like a snapdragon,” said Catherine. “Dom, can you see Mr Leigh and the others? I think we should be starting down. There is a haze over the sun and I should dislike excessively to be caught in a fog or a rainstorm on the mountain.”
They managed to avoid that fate, though by the time they reached their various homes the sky was threatening.
“I refuse to believe it is going to rain again!” groaned Angel.
Chapter 16
It rained during the night, but the next morning was merely grey and damp. Angel walked up to the Hall, and as she entered the park, by the gate, a watery gleam of sunshine split the overcast. By the time she reached the house the sky was a patchwork of blue and white, and the breeze which was breaking up the clouds brought a delicious green odour of growing things. With her newfound interest in flowers, she decided to suggest to Beth a walk about the gardens.
The butler, who opened the door to her, looked worried. As he took her wrap he seemed to be carrying on an internal debate. Then he apparently made up his mind.
“Mrs Daventry is in the drawing room, miss,” he informed her. “I fear madam is not—ah—in a happy mood. Lady Elizabeth is above stairs.”
“Can I see her, Venables?”
“Certainly, miss. That is, I believe so. I, ah, rather think her ladyship would prefer not to come down. If you will be so good as to wait a moment, I shall ask her ladyship’s abigail to conduct you to her chamber.”
Rather puzzled, Angel wandered about the hallway examining the portraits of a number of gloomy-looking ancestors. The atmosphere in the house seemed even more oppressive than usual, and she imagined Lord Grisedale hunched in his cavernous room, spinning a web of tyranny over the household.
She became aware of a whispered altercation in the passage leading to the servants’ quarters.
“I’ll not take it on my head, Mr Venables, to disturb the poor dear,” hissed a female voice.
“Then upon my head be it, Miss Ordway. If anyone can cheer her up, it’ll be Miss Brand, you’ll see. Quite a changed person is her ladyship since miss came to the vicarage. It’s a great pity Sir Gregory went off so early to Penrith, or this’d never have happened, but being as it has, we must do our best for her.”
The butler reappeared with the abigail in tow, and Angel, by now alarmed, followed her up the grand marble staircase.
She found Beth lying on her bed, sobbing her heart out.
“Beth dear, what is it?” she cried, running to her and embracing her. “Has Sir Gregory done something to distress you?”
“N-no, it’s Papa.”
“He’s found out about Dom and Gerald!”
“No, only about us climbing Helvellyn, and he doesn’t know they were there. Oh, Lyn, Mrs Daventry told him we went and he was so angry, and then I had a horrid quarrel with her, and I can’t see Gerald today and Papa will never let me marry him, I know. What am I going to do?”
“If he won’t, then you shall come and live with me until you are of age and he cannot prevent it. You make me feel very lucky that my own papa is such a darling, and even Uncle Clement is a dear.” A martial light entered Angel’s eye. “And in the meantime, I’m going to give your papa a piece of my mind!”
“But Lyn—”
“No, don’t try to stop me. I am quite determined. Wait here, Beth, and don’t be afraid. He cannot eat me, after all!” She marched to the door, leaving Beth wide-eyed and caught between horror and admiration.
Fortunately, Angel remembered the way to Lord Grisedale’s room, so she did not have to stop and ask, which might have sufficed both to impair her resolution and to give him warning. She flung the double doors open, and a footman who was bending over his lordship looked up aghast. As she stalked in, he scuttled forward expostulating.
“You may leave us,” she declared in the grand manner, and turning her back on him went to stand arms akimbo before the thunderous earl. “What do you mean by upsetting Beth so?” she attacked immediately.
“It is none of your demmed affair, hussy! I happen to believe in keeping a short rein on my womenfolk. If your father did likewise he’d have less cause to blush for your conduct!” The old man was snarling but there was a lively gleam in his eye as if he enjoyed a good battle.
“He has not half so much cause as Beth has to blush for yours!” Angel shot back. “You are an odious tyrant and an ill-mannered churl and—”
“And you are a pert saucebox who ought to be—”
“Don’t interrupt me! And don’t threaten me either! You have no authority over me. I was going to say that just because you are miserable yourself there is no excuse to make the rest of the world miserable. I do believe Aunt Maria is right. Everyone panders to your every whim and dares not cross you and it only makes you sourer. I daresay you even bullied your doctor into recommending this ridiculous set-up!’’
Gibbering with rage, Lord Grisedale pulled himself to his feet as Angel rushed about the room opening curtains and the windows behind them. The damp freshness blew into the fusty murk and the heat of the blazing fire at once became less overwhelming.
“Why, you have a French window onto the terrace,” said Angel in a pleased voice, “and the sun has come out. Will you take a turn with me, my lord?”
Taken aback by her sudden change of tone, the earl muttered something indistinguishable as she handed him his handsome, ivory-knobbed cane and offered her arm. She clearly heard the word “hussy,” but he laid his crabbed claw on her steadying arm and hobbled to the window with her. They stepped out. Behind them, the footman had returned with the butler, and they both stood and gaped. Angel concentrated on supporting the old man’s steps as far as the stone balustrade. He seemed to grow stronger as they went.
Leaning against the wall, he gazed out over the luxuriant greeness of gardens, park, and woodland, and up to the mountains.
“What exactly did your aunt say?” he asked thoughtfully.
It was Angel’s turn to be taken aback. “Well, not precisely what I told you. She did say that modern medicine would prescribe light and air and exercise, not shutting yourself away in a hot, stuffy lair. The rest was me.”
“Minx,” he said, but not with any malice.
Greatly heartened, Angel ventured a question. “Why were you so angry that Beth climbed the mountain?”
“Why, I can’t say. Perhaps because she did not tell me about it.”
“That is entirely your own fault!”
“Or perhaps because I myself am confined to the house.”
“You need not be, I’m sure. Besides, Uncle Clement says that happiness is desiring the accessible.”
“Do you subscribe to that doctrine, Miss Brand?”
“Well, it makes sense. And I hope by the time I am your age I shall have sufficient self-control to abide by it,” she said severely. “Do you wish to return to your room now?”
“With your permission, ma’am! If I am to turn over a new leaf, we must take things gradually. You must not expect miracles of me.”
“I do not,” she assured him, helping him back towards the house. “I expect you will still be irritable at times. Even the best-tempered people fall into the megrims now and then.”
During their absence, Venables and the footman had hurried to close windows and curtains, leaving only the door open. As they stepped through it, they saw the footman making up the fire.
“Dolt!” roared the earl, throwing his stick. “Put that fire out, it is the middle of August! And take down those devilish red curtains. This place is like Hades! Why am I served by none but nincompoops and boobies?”
Angel sped back to Beth’s chamber and reported on the astounding success of her mission. Beth, who had expected her to return emotionally if not physically mangled, was incredulous.