Joan Wolf (23 page)

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Authors: The Guardian

The door behind Sir Matthew was pushed open and Jasper looked in. “Oh, I say, Annabelle, I’m sorry. I didn’t know that Sir Matthew was with you.” He began to close the door again.

“Do come in, Jasper,” I said. “We have finished our business, and I’m sure Sir Matthew would like to have you join him for a glass of hock.”

“Come along in, boy,” Sir Matthew said genially. “I hear you are going to hunt with us this year. That is splendid news.”

“Yes, Annabelle has signed me up,” Jasper said. He went to the cabinet where I kept the wine and poured himself a glass.

“Have you sold out of the army, then?” Sir Matthew asked.

Jasper sat down on the ladder-back chair that was the room’s only other seating. “Not yet, sir. I probably will, though. My father wants me to take over this new property he has inherited.”

Sir Matthew raised his eyebrows. It constantly amazed me how like a medieval scholar he looked, when, to my certain knowledge, he never read anything except stud and pedigree books.

“This is the first I have heard of a new property,” he said.

Jasper shrugged. “Some old relative of my mother’s popped off.”

“Aha.”

Jasper’s eyes rested on my face, “You’re looking particularly radiant this morning, Annabelle.”

Damn, I thought.

“We’ve decided to push up cubbing season, Jasper, my boy,” Sir Matthew said. “The thought of hunting always gives Annabelle a glow.”

Thank you, Sir Matthew, I thought, giving him a grateful smile.

“Where is Stephen?” Sir Matthew asked me next. “I haven’t seen him since he got home from Jamaica.”

“He is going over the estate books with my father,” Jasper said.

“Good heavens,” said Sir Matthew. “Why would he want to do that? “

“I have no idea.” Jasper’s voice was flat, and his gray eyes looked unusually cold.

“You know Stephen’s sense of responsibility,” I said humorously to Sir Matthew. “Gerald named him to be Giles’s guardian and trustee, so naturally he feels it is his duty to familiarize himself with the way the estate is run.”

“Well, I suppose that is sensible,” Sir Matthew said, and I blessed him for the second time in less than a minute.

“I believe that Stephen may safely leave the running of the estate to my father,” Jasper said.

“Of course he can,” I replied. “But what if something happened to your father, Jasper? I certainly don’t mean to ill-wish Uncle Adam, but he is not immortal. If he got thrown from his horse tomorrow and broke his neck, there would be no one who knows anything at all about Weston’s books. I know I certainly do not. I only keep the housekeeping records.”

I felt quite pleased with the reasonableness of this explanation and added, “I think it is quite sensible of Stephen to ask Adam to teach him something about the way the estate is run.”

Some of the coldness left Jasper’s eyes. I gave him my most beguiling smile and said, “Would you like to come out cubbing with us? “

His strong, square face warmed into an answering smile. Jasper had turned into a very good-looking man, I thought. He would break hearts at the local assemblies this fall.

“I should love to come cubbing with you, Annabelle,” he said.

I looked at Sir Matthew. “When shall we start?”

“Tomorrow morning,” he said heartily.

“Good heavens, that
is
soon.”

“You said you wanted to get your horses out,” he said.

I sighed. “So I did.”

“Just make certain you get to bed early,” Sir Matthew advised.

“I’m not sure I like the sound of that,” Jasper said. “What time do we have to get up, Annabelle?”

“Four,” I said baldly.

Jasper pretended to choke on his wine. It was a trick he had perfected when he was a boy, and it had always made me smile. It made me smile now.

“You can’t fool me, my boy,” Sir Matthew said. “An army man is quite used to early morning risings.”

“I don’t consider four
A
.
M
. ‘the morning,’ Sir Matthew,” Jasper retorted. “I consider it the middle of the night!”

“Nonsense,” came the brisk reply. Sir Matthew finished his wine and stood up. “I had better get going so I can pass the good news to Clinton.”

Mr. Clinton lived on the other side of Weston village at Whiteoak, a very pretty property that had been in his family since Domesday Book. He had acted as assistant master to Sir Matthew for years.

“We’ll meet you at the usual place?” I asked.

The usual place was the Market Cross near Weston village-Sir Matthew’s grin made him look like a little boy. “Usual place,” he said buoyantly.

Jasper chuckled as the door closed behind the squire. “I do believe Sir Matthew is the most uncomplicated man I have ever met,” he said.

“He’s
not stupid, Jasper.” I was quick in defense of my friend.

“I did not mean to imply that I thought he was.”

“I am excessively fond of Sir Matthew,” I said sternly.

His level blond brows drew together. “I hope you are not entertaining the thought of becoming Lady Stanhope, Annabelle,” he said.

I stared at him in utter stupefaction.
“What?”

A little color crept into his cheeks, and he shifted uncomfortably on the ladder-back chair. “I beg your pardon. But you said you were excessively fond of him, and I thought for a moment...” His color deepened as he met my eyes. “Dash it all, Annabelle. I just wanted to make certain that Stanhope was not taking advantage of your... fondness.”

I said coldly, “Sir Matthew’s feelings for me are paternal, not lascivious.”

Jasper looked infuriatingly unconvinced.

I snapped, “Try to remember that you are Nell’s brother, Jasper—not mine.”

He surged to his feet and stood looking at me, his hand gripping the back of his chair so tightly that his knuckles showed white. “You don’t have to remind me that I am not your brother, Annabelle. Believe me, I know that very well indeed!”

There was a real edge to his voice, and I felt a rush of contrition—he had meant to protect me, not to insult me.

I said, “I did not mean to hurt your feelings, Jasper. I know you meant well.”

His gray eyes were unreadable. “I always mean well as far as you are concerned.”

I smiled. “I know. It is a great comfort to me to have all my cousins here with me at Weston.”

His return smiled looked forced.

At that moment Nell looked around the office door. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Annabelle. I just wanted to tell Jasper that Mama is looking for him.”

Jasper turned to face his sister. She smiled sweetly and informed him, “Mrs. Clinton has called, and Mama wants to show off her soldier son.”

Jasper groaned.

“Such are a hero’s wages,” I said with a laugh. Mrs. Clinton was the wife of the hunt’s assistant master and the biggest gossip in all of Sussex.

“I suppose you couldn’t tell Mama that I am out?” Jasper suggested.

Nell gave him her best “virtuous little sister” look. “Are you asking me to
lie
to Mama, Jasper?”

“God forbid,” he muttered. “Where are they?”

“In the salon.”

“Excuse me, Annabelle,” Jasper said. He walked out the door with the mien of someone going off to the gallows.

Nell and I looked at each other and giggled. Nell came farther into the room.

“I am going into the village this afternoon to pick up some new books I ordered,” she said. “Would you like to come with me, Annabelle? “

“I’d love to,” I said warmly. “What books did you order?”

She came all the way into the room and sat down. I was delighted. It would make me very happy to have Nell’s friendship back again.

 

Chapter Sixteen

 

Nell and I had a very pleasant afternoon together shopping in the village, and on the way home I asked if she had plans to attend the autumn assemblies in Brighton. I felt very bad that Gerald’s death had forced Aunt Fanny to cancel Nell’s second London Season last spring.

“Are you worried that I am going to turn into an old maid, Annabelle?” Nell retorted.

“Of course not!”

But the fact was, Nell had turned twenty the previous month. She was not exactly “on the shelf,” but she would be in another year or so.

“You certainly did not lack for suitors during your first Season,” I said, “and there is every reason to suppose that other suitors more to your taste will be forthcoming in the future. But you need to go out into society in order to meet them, Nell!”

Nell stuck her round little chin in the air. “What makes you think that I want to get married at all? “

This was a patently absurd remark. Every woman living in England in the second decade of the nineteenth century wanted to get married. There were simply no other viable options open to one.

“You adore children, and the only way you can have your own is to get married,” I returned promptly.

Nell sighed. “I suppose that is true.”

“What was wrong with all the suitors from your first Season?”

“I didn’t love them,” Nell said. “And frankly, Annabelle, I cannot imagine anything as miserable as being forced to live in deep intimacy with a man one doesn’t love.”

My fingers must have tightened on the reins because Monarch’s ears suddenly twitched, as if he were waiting for a command. I clicked to him, and his ears went forward again and he trotted on.

“I would not advise it,” I said quietly to Nell.

She said, “If I can’t marry the man I love, then I would prefer to marry no one.”

It was her careless choice of article that betrayed her.
“The
man I love,” she had said, as if that man already existed.

Good God! I thought. Could Nell be secretly in love with someone right here in Weston?

I stared at the road between Monarch’s alert chestnut-colored ears and considered the possibilities.

Might Nell be in love with the son of one of our tenant farmers? I knew that Adam would never countenance her marrying beneath herself like that, which would certainly account for her silence on the subject.

To the south, storm clouds from the Channel had been pushed far up the Ridge and now they were spilling over the top of it and advancing into the valley.

Nell said, “It looks as if we will have rain later. The farmers will be glad of that.”

“Now that the festival is over, it can rain any time it likes,” I returned absently.

Acres of rich farmland stretched away on either side of the road. I ran the names of all the eligible men in the valley through my mind and couldn’t come up with anyone whom I thought could conceivably have captured Nell’s heart.

The air smelled of the approaching rain. I raised my hands a little and called, “Trot on,” to Monarch, who obliged me with a brisker pace.

“We’re going to make it home just in time,” Nell commented.

If it wasn’t one of the farmers, then who else could it be? I thought.

The answer came to me in a flash of blinding insight.

Jack! My God, Nell is in love with Jack!

That had to be the answer, I thought, and in that answer lay only heartbreak for my little cousin.

Jack was a well-known rake. He could charm the birds off the trees if he wanted to, and he had charmed more aristocratic matrons into his bed than I for one cared to count.

“Jack doesn’t believe in paying for sex when he can get it so easily for free....”

I remembered Gerald saying that to me one night after we had been to a ball and met Jack, who was escorting his latest mistress, the young wife of an elderly earl. I remembered that Gerald had laughed.

Jack was far too sophisticated, and far too heartless, for a girl like Nell.

Another memory flashed suddenly into my mind:
The word around town is that Adam has come up with a handsome dowry.
Those had been Jack’s exact words to me when we had been discussing Nell’s marriage prospects.

And Adam had told Jack to marry money! What an incredible irony it would be if Jack chose Adam’s own daughter to achieve that ambition.

We turned off the road into Weston Park. The sun was now completely hidden under the cloud cover.

“ The temperature must have dropped ten degrees,” Nell said. She was shivering.

“Why don’t you take out that shawl you bought for your mother and put it on? “ I suggested.

“Good idea.” Nell began to rout through the parcels that were piled under the seat.

The trees on either side of the ride were rustling with the increased wind, and the first roll of thunder sounded in the distance. Nell found the parcel she wanted and unwrapped the pretty ivory-colored shawl she had bought this afternoon for Aunt Fanny.

“Aren’t you cold, Annabelle?” she asked as she settled the soft wool around her shoulders.

“I am outdoors so much that I don’t chill easily,” I returned.

“You have always liked to be outdoors,” Nell said affectionately. “I remember Mama once saying to me, ‘I sometimes think that Annabelle is really a horse in disguise.* “

I grinned. “Damn. You have discovered my secret.”

“Annabelle dear,” Neil said in a passable imitation of Aunt Fanny’s voice, “watch your language, please. There is a young lady present.”

We both laughed.

I did not want to say anything that might spoil this precious harmony between me and Nell, so I kept my own counsel about Jack. But I made a private vow to be vigilant. I had no intention of letting Jack marry Nell for her money.

* * * *

We pulled up to the front steps of the house just as the first drops began to fall. One footman collected our parcels from under the seat while another climbed into the driver’s seat to take the gig down to the stables.

Nell and I scurried up the stairs through the increasingly heavy raindrops. Hodges himself was holding the door open for us. The first person I saw as I stepped into the hall was Jack.

I untied my straw bonnet and said lightly, “We outran the rain.”

Hodges came to take the bonnet from my hand, and Jack said somberly, “Come into the salon with me, both of you.”

My heart gave one big warning thump and then began to race. “What has happened?”
‘.(
asked breathlessly. “Is it Giles?”

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