Laura Matthews (3 page)

Glenna sighed and nodded her head. “As you wish. A few months can make no difference to either of us at this point.”

Chapter 3

With the recovery of Mr. Forbes’s health in mind, Glenna informed him only that her betrothed had sustained a great change in his circumstances. He was delighted with the news that his daughter would be marrying into the peerage and have a country estate on which to live, but he was not wholly oblivious to her dispassionate rehearsal of this information. The thought did occur to him that she was not entirely pleased with the new arrangement.

“You must not mind that you will be living away from Hastings,” he comforted her. “I shall go on here very well.”

She forced a laugh. “I place great reliance on Mrs. Booth, Papa.” The housekeeper was indeed loyal to her employer, and Glenna trusted that she would be called in any emergency. “Besides, we must wait a year to marry, so I shall not have to face such a parting for some time. Perhaps Lord Pontley will allow me to have you at Lockwood for a period each year. There was so much to discuss that I had no time to ask him."

"A short visit now and then to see how you go on would indeed be welcome,” he admitted with a tender smile, “but I would not have you press him to keep me there for a protracted stay. I am fond of my house, and Hastings, and I have my work here. You will wish to have time alone with your husband.”

Glenna murmured an affirmative reply and, feeling guilty for her deception, offered to play for him. As the days passed she grew more upset by Pontley’s lack of sympathy for his aunt’s plight, and she evolved a plan by which she might help soften the old woman’s sufferings. Lockwood was located not far from Haywards Heath, and Glenna had a cherished friend who lived with her parents at the vicarage in Burgess Hill. It would require a certain amount of deception in itself, but Glenna could excuse that on the basis of the good she would be doing, since her erstwhile fiancé obviously intended no assistance whatever to his bereaved aunt.

* * * *

Phoebe Thomas was delighted to receive her friend’s letter, but it puzzled her that Glenna should be asking the vicar for a letter of recommendation for her cousin, and especially that such a letter should be sent to the Dowager Lady Pontley. True, the vicar knew Glenna’s cousin Mary Stokes, but it was inconceivable to Phoebe that Mary, who was placid to the point of indolence, could desire a post as companion to the dowager. It was even more suspicious that any reply to this offer was to be sent to Glenna herself, since Phoebe had but the day before received a letter, perhaps rather one would call it a note, from Mary herself saying that she was bound to London for the season. Since Phoebe was not unfamiliar with Glenna’s youthful pranks, she had some misgivings, but she nevertheless caused the vicar to dispatch such a letter to the dowager and within a matter of days received a reply which she dutifully forwarded to Glenna.

It seemed to Glenna that it could make no difference whatever to the dowager who she took for a companion, provided the companion served her well.

If Pontley thought it would upset his aunt to meet Glenna at such a time (and she could understand that the bereaved woman might be distressed to have her successor as mistress at Lockwood to stay just now), then she should meet someone else who would offer her the comfort and assistance she must need at such a time. There was, of course, the possibility that the deception would have to be revealed later if Glenna did indeed marry Pontley, but she considered this highly unlikely. For the present she wished only to provide some comfort to the distressed woman, since Pontley apparently felt no obligation to do so.

The reply from the dowager was short and to the point. She stated her requirements, the wages she was prepared to pay, and wrote that if the terms were agreeable to Mary Stokes, she was to present herself at Lockwood one week from the day of writing to be employed on a probationary basis. Glenna, while making allowances for the dowager’s emotional state, still had a qualm when she read the letter. The imperious tone and niggardly wage offered did not suggest a personality with which she was likely to live in harmony. That could not be helped, however, and she felt herself committed to provide what solace she could, so she advised her father that she would be heading for Phoebe Thomas’s for a period of time.

Mr. Forbes, his health recovered, was delighted that his daughter should be released from her nursing duties and have the opportunity to go visiting for a while. He agreed to direct his letters to Phoebe, as Glenna remarked that she would be staying at other places as well, but would always contact Phoebe for her correspondence. When all was in readiness and the post chaise ordered, Mr. Forbes frowned at the portmanteaux in the hall and turned to his daughter. "Do you not intend to take your harp, Glenna? The vicar has remarked more than once on how much pleasure it
gives him to hear you play.”

In her nervousness about the whole venture, Glenna very nearly betrayed herself. Her second thoughts suddenly seemed very rational and she was disposed to give up the whole project. Why should not Pontley take care of his own aunt? But her heart cried out for the deserted dowager and she calmly replied, “I fear the harp will take up too much space, Papa.”

“Oh no, my dear, it will be worth the inconvenience, and will in some measure repay the vicar for his kindness in having you. I will direct that it be brought down.”

Glenna nodded acquiescence and wondered desperately how the vicar would feel about having a harp left in his small home while she went elsewhere, for she had no intention of descending on Lockwood with it. Companions did not travel about with harps, no matter how gently born they were. With a shrug of resignation she watched the awkward instrument bundled into the post chaise, where it barely left room for her and the maid who was to accompany her to Burgess Hill. “I think May had best not come, Papa. I will be no more than four hours on the road and we could not but be cramped to death.”

Her father reluctantly agreed when he surveyed the crowded interior. “Very well, Glenna. Perhaps I should not insist that you take the harp.”

His worried expression brought forth a cheerful smile from his daughter. “Nonsense. I would miss playing, you know, and the vicar will be pleased. Perhaps Phoebe will take the opportunity to learn.” She hoped fervently that her friend would do so; otherwise there was absolutely no purpose in bringing the instrument with her at all.

After a fond parting, Glenna disposed herself as comfortably as she was able and, despite the roughness of the passage, entered her thoughts in her journal as she progressed. Putting them down helped to solidify her purpose, and she arrived at the vicarage with more determination than she had left her home. She planned to spend one night with her friend before progressing to Lockwood, where instinct cautioned her she would need every ounce of her resources.

Phoebe stared
in amazement at the harp when the steps were let down for her friend to descend. “Dear God, Glenna, I had no idea you meant to bring the harp for such a short stay.”

“Never mind, love, I will explain.” Glenna whispered this aside before turning to the vicar and his wife, who appeared no less astonished as the postillion struggled to release the instrument from where it had become securely lodged in the chaise. It took the combined efforts of the postillion and one of the Thomas’s servants to unload the unwieldy harp and convey it into the vicarage.

The vicar and his wife politely refrained from commenting on the invasion of their diminutive home by the instrument, but Phoebe’s eyes indicated her desire to get Glenna alone for the promised explanation. As soon as she could do so without appearing rude, Glenna excused herself from tea and asked Phoebe to escort her to her room.

When the door was closed behind them, Phoebe caught her hand and demanded, “What is going forward, Glenna? Are you up to some mischief’?”

“I suppose you would say so, Phoebe, though I assure you it is with the best of intentions.” Glenna’s eyes danced with merriment. “I thought you might enjoy learning to play the harp.”

“Pooh, you thought nothing of the kind, my dear friend. Do you intend to leave that...monster with us?” she asked incredulously.

“I’m afraid I shall have to, love. I cannot very well take it to Lockwood with me, now, can I?” Taking pity on her confused friend, Glenna proceeded to unfold the story of her engagement and her decision to befriend the dowager.

“Well, it is very kind of you, I suppose,” Phoebe pronounced doubtfully, “but I do not think my father would like being a party to such a deception.”

“Shall I tell him the whole, Phoebe? You see, I cannot think Pontley’s aunt would be comfortable with me as myself, and yet I cannot believe that she is not in the most desperate need for consolation at such a time. Pontley has been most callous about the whole thing, and I really cannot think I will marry him in the end. If you think I should tell your papa, I will do so, and abandon the scheme.”

Phoebe’s brow wrinkled with concentration. "Well, he did no more than write a recommendation for your cousin, after all, and so long as he does not know what you plan, there can be no blame for him. I know he would approve of your kindness in the matter, Glenna, so perhaps we shall not bother him with the details.” She smiled mischievously. “I have heard nothing to indicate that the dowager’s temperament is conciliating, so you are apt to be only too well rewarded for your efforts.”

“Even a disagreeable woman deserves comfort and assistance at such a time,” Glenna retorted self-righteously.

* * * *

And Glenna recognized immediately when she met the dowager that she was indeed a most disagreeable woman. Her attitude toward her new companion was condescending, and, meaning to start as she meant to go on, she immediately set Glenna about numerous tasks of an irritating and demeaning nature. She bullied and chided the young woman, and was immensely pleased when her new Mary accepted all this complacently.

Relegated to an attic room with a tiny, dirty window, Glenna promptly set about cleaning it, though she was twice interrupted in the small task by a summons from the dowager. When she finally had an opportunity to survey the view, she was delighted by the gently rolling hills with their coppices, the fields and the Home Farm. Used as she was to her daily sight of the channel in Hastings, the lake was a welcome vision, and she determined to explore the estate if she were ever given a moment’s peace.

The dowager set her to listing the items of personal property which were to be conveyed to the dower house, and as the list grew daily, Glenna began to wonder if the old woman intended to leave Pontley any furniture at all. Occasionally Lady Pontley would make an aside which Glenna interpreted to mean that a specific item was not indeed her own but belonged with the estate, but since her nephew was unfamiliar with the place he would never know the difference. These semi-confidences embarrassed her and she strove to turn a deaf ear to them. Pontley would have to look after his own interests.

As the weeks passed and Glenna could see no sign in the dowager of any grief for her sons, she began to consider the possibility of leaving on some pretext. She did not mind the work she did, although the dowager, encouraged by her willingness, increased the load daily, but her purpose in coming seemed to have dissipated. Here was no heartbroken mother mourning her sons; rather the old woman bitterly denounced them as ungrateful and disobedient wretches. Lady Pontley reserved a special store of invective for her nephew, whom she apostrophized as a fool and an interloper. Glenna had very nearly decided to tell the old woman that her father had fallen ill and she must return home, when the dowager herself succumbed to a putrid sore throat which forced her to bed. From this position she continued to order Glenna about unceasingly, but a large share of the young lady’s duties now became concerned with the estate. Glenna, fascinated to be able to learn something of the workings of the country, determined to continue on until her employer was again restored to health.

The day came when a letter from Pontley arrived for his aunt and Glenna found herself, on delivering it, instructed to break the seal and read it to her. She pleaded her lack of desire to do so on the basis that it might contain personal information.

“That is highly unlikely, Miss Stokes, as the chucklehead has little to say to me beyond upholding his honor in a misguided engagement.”

Appalled by her position, Glenna thrust the letter into Lady Pontley’s hands and turned to leave. “Stay and read me the letter!” the dowager rasped. “How dare you rush off that way? Sit down this minute.”

Glenna mutely received the letter back and perched herself on the edge of an uncomfortable chair. She was too shaken to attempt to organize her thoughts as quickly as was her wont, so she obediently unfolded the sheet and began to read, “My dear aunt, I hope this note finds you well and in reasonable spirits. Since last I wrote I have been at Huntley attempting to sort out the management of the estate here. I have replaced the agent with a young man who seems capable as well as knowledgeable, as your son’s agent struck me as neither. The methods used here have been in practice for hundreds of years, which may recommend them on antiquity but hardly on efficiency. Mr. Brown (the new agent) assures me that the acreage is good and can turn a profit if handled properly. He has been doing his best to interest me in turnips and wheat, but the learning process is slow. The freshly turned earth smells delightful and the budding plants are promises of a fruitful harvest just as important to the nation at such a time as our ships, I imagine, so I console myself.”

Her reading was interrupted here by the old woman’s snort of vexation. “He can never turn himself from a sailor into a farmer and would do better not to try. What a fool he sounds blathering of such things!”

Glenna’s impression had been otherwise; she had been touched by Pontley’s simple response to the land and his efforts to accommodate himself to a wholly unfamiliar way of life. The conclusion of the letter was to reverse their positions. “I have paid my respects to Lord and Lady Morris and Miss Jennifer Stafford at Cromer Lodge as you requested. Miss Stafford is indeed a most striking young lady, possessed of an elfin charm and winsomeness quite foreign to my experience— one moment dashing about the estate at breakneck speed on her white mare and the next seated next to one full of confidences, wit and an odd assortment of miscellaneous knowledge. I will grant you, my dear aunt, that she possesses those virtues of which you spoke, and she does not seem indifferent to me, but I am determined on that course to which I am in honor bound. I shall go to Manner Hall in Somerset soon, though I intend to stay here another week for the felicitous company. Your very obedient servant and nephew, Pontley.”