Spoiled (22 page)

Evangeline nodded thoughtfully. She did not relish the prospect of sitting with Amelia in a confined space for the best part of three hours. On the other hand, it would be a relief not to have to take Elsie who had nearly let the cat out of the bag on more than one occasion concerning their adventure in Sheffield. ‘If you are sure that Amelia will be willing to go.'

‘I will convince her of it,' he replied. ‘By the way, what reason do you intend to give Miss Buckleigh for your protracted absence?'

Evangeline smiled brilliantly. ‘Oh, that's simple,' she replied. ‘I'll tell her that I'm going to Sheffield to plead her brother's case with the bishop.'

He laughed. ‘Miss Granby, you are positively Machiavellian,' he declared. And so am I, he added silently, an unpleasant smile on his lips. Moments later, he excused himself in order to make arrangements for the next day's outing.

 

‘But whoever would do such a thing?' Theodora exclaimed indignantly. In order to explain her absence on the morrow, Evangeline had felt obliged to tell Michael's sister about the complaint that had been made about him and about his summons to attend upon the bishop. They had gone up to Evangeline's bedchamber so they would not be overheard.

Evangeline glanced at her swiftly, before looking away. After a very long pause, she said in a small voice, ‘I am very much afraid that it was … was probably I.'

‘
Probably
you?' Theodora questioned, torn between puzzlement and shock.

‘Yes, probably,' Evangeline responded hastily, before Theodora could take this information in. ‘I don't know for sure, I wrote a letter, but—'

‘How could you?' Theodora cried, her eyes full of confusion and distress. ‘What has Michael ever done to hurt you? When has he ever done anything but his duty with regard to you and your family?'

‘I know, I know,' Evangeline answered, wringing her hands.

‘You know what will happen now, don't you?' Theodora went on, her distress turning to anger. ‘He will be removed from Illingham and very likely unfrocked as well.'

‘Surely not,' Evangeline answered, horrified.

‘You do not understand. He was removed from his first curacy because a young lady fell in love with him without the least encouragement, and her fiancé picked a fight with him. Then in his second curacy, his vicar made himself objectionable to a woman and Michael thrashed him. This was his last chance. Now you have spoiled it for him.' She turned towards the door.

‘Where are you going?' Evangeline asked.

‘I am going to see Lord Ashbourne,' Theodora replied, her voice trembling. ‘I have never met him, and it terrifies me to death to think of it, but I cannot believe that he would be so unjust as to let a good man suffer through your spite. He must be persuaded to use his influence with the bishop.'

‘No, wait,' said Evangeline urgently, catching hold of her arm.

‘Let go of me,' Theodora flashed angrily. ‘Michael is my brother and I love him. I must do what I can.'

‘Wait,' Evangeline said again. She took a deep breath. ‘I love him too, and I have a plan that will save him.'

‘What do you mean, you love him?' Theodora asked scornfully. ‘How could you love him and do such a thing?'

Evangeline explained how Michael had made her so angry that she had written the letter. ‘It relieved my feelings, but I never intended to send it,' she assured Theodora. ‘Have you never written something – in your diary perhaps – about someone just because they made you angry, but later regretted it?'

Theodora stared at her for a few moments then turned away. ‘I
did
write something horrible in my diary once,' she confessed. ‘My father made me stay in to construe some Latin instead of going on a picnic with friends. I wrote that I wished he was dead. I was so frightened that it might come true that I scribbled and scribbled over it, then tore the page out and burned it. Even so I was terrified for several days that I might have wished it upon him.' They were both silent for a short time. ‘If you did not intend to send it, how did it get there?'

‘I don't know,' Evangeline replied wretchedly. ‘I left it in here. Nobody usually takes letters from my room, but I asked Elsie if she had taken my letter and she said yes.' She pulled Theodora over to the window seat, urged her to sit down, then knelt at her feet with a rustle of skirts. ‘Please believe me. I never planned to hurt Michael. I do love him, I promise you. And I have a plan to undo the dreadful damage that I have done.' Seeing that Theodora no longer looked as if she might be on the point of leaving the room, Evangeline sat down next to her and explained what she had been saying to Lieutenant Fellowes. ‘I am hoping that speaking to the bishop in person will make a difference,' she concluded. ‘Anyway, I have got to try.'

‘You are doing all of that – for Michael?' said Theodora, glancing at Evangeline sideways.

‘I must – even though he probably won't want to speak to me ever again.' Her voice broke on her final words.

She had only shed a few tears before Theodora's small hand pressed a handkerchief into hers. ‘I believe you,' the younger girl said, ‘and I want to help. What can I do?'

 

‘Sheffield? But why upon earth would I want to go to Sheffield with Evangeline Granby? I would prefer not to go to the end of the street with her.'

Lieutenant Fellowes prepared himself to deal patiently with his
cousin. He had plans which he did not want spoiled at this stage by a young woman's tantrums. ‘Calm yourself, my dear coz,' he said, as he guided her to a chair in the little withdrawing room at the back of the house which she liked to think of as her own. ‘Such violence of feeling is ruinous to the complexion, I'm told. Besides, I thought that you got on quite well with her.'

‘I've never liked her,' Amelia answered bitterly, ‘and since she was seen kissing the curate in the vestry I have positively detested her.'

‘Well, if you come with us to Sheffield tomorrow, I can guarantee that she will soon be out of your way – for good.'

Amelia paled. ‘For good?' she echoed, her hand going to her throat. ‘You are not intending to … to …'

‘Good God, Amelia, get your imagination under control,' said Fellowes scornfully. ‘She won't come to harm. You do want her out of the way, don't you?'

‘Well of course; as long as you aren't going to hurt her. Then perhaps …' She twisted her handkerchief in her hands.

‘You have hopes of getting him back?' he suggested.

‘Evangeline bewitches all the men,' Amelia burst out. ‘I've seen her do it so many times before. With her out of the way, I might have a chance with him.'

‘Then come with me tomorrow.'

‘You're going to help me? Then of course I'll come. What are you planning? What do I have to do?'

‘You don't have to do anything. Just be civil to Miss Granby and let me do the rest.'

‘D
amnation, he
knew
that I wanted him to stay,' said Ilam exasperatedly when he arrived back at the cottage and found his father waiting alone downstairs. ‘If I do not give him a piece of my mind …'

‘No, Gabriel,' said Ashbourne, laying down a book which he had taken from Michael's bookcase and which he had been perusing off and on without taking in any of the contents. ‘It was really far too much to expect that he would be able to stay in the same room as myself, you know.'

‘But given the circumstances—'

‘Whatever the circumstances.'

‘But, Father—'

A slow smile spread across Ashbourne's face. He made no reference to the fact that this was the first time that Gabriel had ever addressed him in such a way. ‘Give him time,' he said. ‘But don't let him be alone for too long.'

Gabriel was very torn. On the one hand, he felt for Michael, for he knew from experience how difficult it was to come to terms with old wrongs. On the other, his father ought not to have been left alone. Looking at the man whom he had once thought he detested, he realized to his surprise that he had become fond of him. With a flash of insight he understood that this might be partly to do with Ashbourne's impending fatherhood, an experience that he himself remembered and with which he could empathize. As he paused in indecision, the door opened softly and his wife stood on the threshold. ‘I couldn't bear to keep away,' she said. ‘How are things going?'

There was a cry from Jessie upstairs. Ashbourne looked at his daughter-in-law. ‘You tell me,' he said, with the air of one completely at a loss.

‘It sounds quite normal to me,' she responded.

‘That's more or less what Michael said,' the earl told her.

‘He was right,' she said. ‘Where is he, by the way?'

‘If you are able to stay, my love, then I shall go and look for him,' Gabriel replied.

Thinking that this might be done more easily on horseback than on foot, Gabriel set out to walk to Illingham Hall to get himself a mount. He went the long way round, rather than taking a short cut to the stables, as he reckoned that he might then be more likely to see someone who had bumped into Michael. As he got to the entrance gates, however, his eye was caught by the figure of a man standing by the duck pond which marked the far end of the main street of the village. Something told him that this would be Michael. As he drew closer he could see his half-brother looking down into the pond, his whole body giving a picture of deep dejection. At that moment, the last vestiges of anger melted away. He approached the clergyman, laying a hand on his shoulder.

Michael looked straight at him. ‘I was thinking of throwing myself in,' he said.

‘Not seriously, I hope,' Gabriel responded. ‘David Crossley and I had a fight when we were boys and we finished up in there. It's only three feet down at its deepest, and you'd look rather foolish, I fear.' Michael gave a little half smile. Taking this as a hopeful sign, Gabriel added, ‘Come on; let's go home. I've a decent Madeira I'd like you to try.'

 

The entrance of Illingham Hall was cool and dark and, in some strange way, it felt comforting to Michael as he walked in. He looked about him as he had not done when he had visited the housekeeper on a previous occasion. Gabriel, observing him, said, ‘Has it occurred to you, Brother, that had our father married your mother, that you would be Lord Ilam and I would not exist?'

‘No, it had not occurred to me,' Michael responded. He thought for a moment, remembering the well-tended acres, the cottages in good repair, and the contentment of the people. ‘That would have been a pity, I think.'

Gabriel laughed, led him into the library and indicated a comfortable chair, whilst he poured them a glass each from a decanter on a side
table. He felt that there was more that Michael needed to know, but was very unsure as to how to proceed. He was glad when Michael spoke first.

‘The Crossleys seem an excellent family.'

‘They are indeed,' Gabriel agreed. This was the kind of opening that he had been hoping for. ‘They were my salvation.' He settled himself easily in another chair.

‘Your salvation? That's a curious turn of phrase.'

‘In order to explain it, I'll have to go over quite a bit of old history,' Gabriel continued. ‘My mother died when I was born and, apparently, my grandfather blamed Raff.' Michael stood up and turned away abruptly. ‘If you don't want to listen, we can talk of something else,' Gabriel said gently.

Michael shook his head as if to dispel some of the confusion in his mind. ‘No; I mean, yes, of course I want to listen. I'm sorry. Do go on.'

‘I should have said “
our
grandfather”. Of all the relatives that you've gained, I think he's probably the most unpleasant.'

‘Lady Agatha said that he was an evil old bastard.'

‘Yes, well, she should know. He exacted revenge for my mother's death by sending me to be brought up by the Crossleys. My father was not allowed to approach me without permission.'

‘But how could he have done such a thing to his own son?' Michael exclaimed. ‘Did your father make no attempt to rebel?'

Gabriel noticed Michael's use of the word “your” when “our” would have been more correct, but did not remark upon it. ‘I think great pressure was put upon him. He's never told me the details. Remember, too, that he was only seventeen. How much control did you have over your own life when you were that age? In any case, by then he had more than one son to worry about.'

Michael wrinkled his brow in puzzlement. ‘You mean me? But he never took the slightest notice of me. How can I possibly come into all this?'

‘In your early years, your financial support came from my grandfather. Raff had to do as he was told as far as contact with me was concerned. If he didn't, the threat was that your support would be withdrawn. '

‘Dear God!' Michael whispered, so shocked that the blasphemy escaped from his lips without his even being aware of it. ‘I had no idea. I suppose that if he seemed likely to seek
me
out, then …'

‘Then he would threaten
my
comfort in some way. I shouldn't be
surprised. Small wonder that my father – our father – concluded that the best way to guard us from his malice was to keep away from both of us. Most of what I've told you I've had from my father. You might be tempted to dismiss it as fabrication on his part. All I can say is that it rings true when measured up against what I've heard from the Crossleys, Aunt Agatha and others, and also when I bring to mind my own vague memories of my grandfather.' They were both silent for a while. Eventually Gabriel said, ‘I know now that although he sent me away for the worst of intentions, he actually did me a favour. At least I had the chance to grow up as part of a happy family, which is more than my father had.' He paused. ‘What of you? Were you happy?'

‘Yes, I had a happy childhood,' Michael answered, smiling reminiscently. ‘My mother was gentle, kind and loving. I still miss her. When she died …' He paused. ‘When she died, I knew that I had to pass on that kindness to my sister. Although a good man, my stepfather is rather formal and serious. He has always done his duty by us – more than his duty, as far as I am concerned – and for that I am thankful; but in some ways, I have been more like a father or an uncle than a brother to Theodora.'

After this, Gabriel deliberately changed the subject, and they were soon talking about some of the more eccentric characters in the village. One concern continued to hover at the back of Michael's mind. How was he to tell Theodora about his parentage?

Eventually Gabriel said, ‘I'll show you where you are to sleep.' Michael's things had already been brought to Illingham Hall from the cottage. The room that was to be his was larger than all the top floor of the cottage put together and was handsomely appointed in shades of blue and gold. ‘I'm not sure what Eustacia wants to do about dinner,' the viscount told him. ‘In any case, I feel that I ought to go back to the cottage and see how my father is faring.'

Michael squared his shoulders. ‘I'll come with you.'

‘Only if you're sure. To be blunt, he's got enough to think about without you causing him further disturbance.'

‘I don't want to distress him. I just want to understand.'

On their arrival at the cottage, they found Lord Ashbourne and Lady Ilam sitting and talking quietly together. Ashbourne rose to his feet. ‘There's no sign of the baby just yet,' said her ladyship. ‘Jessie is doing very well.'

‘I wish I could say the same,' replied Ashbourne wryly.

‘Stacia, my love, you have been here for quite a time,' said Gabriel,
after a short silence. ‘Allow me to take you for a short walk down the lane.'

‘Are you offering to lead me up the garden path, my lord?' asked Lady Ilam, as she rose gracefully and put her hand on her husband's arm.

‘Undoubtedly,' Gabriel answered, lifting her hand and kissing it before laying it back on his arm. ‘We shall be back anon.'

After the couple had left, there was a short silence. Eventually Lord Ashbourne said, ‘I'd offer you a seat, but for the fact that it's your house.'

Michael hesitated then sat down. There was another silence. Eventually he said rather tentatively, ‘Before I … I left earlier, you said that you were told my mother had died at my birth. Who told you that?'

‘My father, your grandfather. He told me gleefully that your mother had died in giving birth to you.'

‘But why, when it was not true?' Michael asked, puzzled.

‘He took pleasure in inflicting pain. More importantly, though, he knew that if she was still alive, I would manage to seek her out, somehow. He wanted me to concentrate upon establishing a legitimate family, you see. Once I was assured that Dora was dead, nothing mattered to me anyway.'

‘But you got married,' said Michael. ‘You married someone else when you knew that … that …'

‘I knew that your mother was with child. Yes.' He turned away. ‘You'll say that I was a coward. No doubt you'd be right.'

‘I always thought you were a heartless libertine,' Michael said frankly. ‘Lady Ashbourne told me that you were only sixteen when I was born. That makes such a notion rather improbable. But your reputation …' His voice tailed away.

‘My reputation was gained after Gabriel was born.'

‘And what of my mother?'

Ashbourne sighed. ‘Your mother's family kept a farm near to the school I attended. I met her one day when I was out riding on a horse supplied by my father. I never lacked for material comforts, you'll notice. She was no happier at home than I, and I was her first love as she was mine. When she discovered that she was with child, I went to my father and told him that I intended to marry her. It was not a very pleasant interview.' He was silent for a long time, remembering the past. Eventually he spoke again. ‘My father made it clear to me that there was no chance of my marrying Dora, and that he would exact his revenge upon her if I ever approached her again. He had always held the purse
strings. He promised that if I married the girl that he had chosen for me, he would support you and Dora financially. I had no choice but to agree.'

‘The girl you married was Gabriel's mother.'

Ashbourne nodded. ‘Laura Vyse. She was two years older than I. With hindsight, I have to wonder whether she and my father were actually in love, although, to give the devil his due, I am convinced that he never behaved improperly. I was married in the April of 1768, you were born in August when, as I thought, your mother died. Gabriel was born the following May.
His
mother
did
die at his birth. But yours lived on. Did she … was she…?'

‘Was my mother happy?' Michael thought back. ‘She was content, I think. My stepfather was always kind to her.'

‘I'm glad of that. You are like your mother in many ways,' Ashbourne went on, looking at him thoughtfully. ‘Your colouring and your bone structure, for instance. I would have known you for her son anywhere. Your manner has something of her gentleness as well.'

‘My sister is like her,' Michael told him.

‘I should like to meet your sister,' said Ashbourne, his expression softening.

All at once, Michael's suspicions hardened again. ‘If you dare—' he breathed, getting to his feet.

Ashbourne also rose. ‘I make every allowance for your prejudices, but that is going too far,' he said firmly. ‘I am in love with my wife and, even if I were not, I don't believe I'm depraved enough to seduce the innocent child of my first love who must be almost young enough to be my granddaughter.' He paused, looking at Michael's fists clenched by his sides. ‘I warn you, you'll not catch me unawares again. If you hit me, I'll give as good as I get. My father would have said that you had coal-heaver's shoulders. You get them from me, you know – as does Ilam.'