The Daughters Of Red Hill Hall (12 page)

‘Why, Charles, what a surprise! I did not know you were to call on us today. Isn’t it a wonderful surprise, Sarah?’ She smiled brightly at both of them.

‘Rebecca! My dear, I was out riding, and had not intended calling today, for the weather is not such that we could go for a walk together. But I came across Sarah, also out on her horse, and we completed our ride together. Despite the rain and the wind, or perhaps because of it, it was a thrilling jaunt, was it not, Sarah?’ Charles turned to Sarah for confirmation. She was scowling at Rebecca but rearranged her face into a smile for Charles.

‘It was, indeed. Such a pity you don’t ride, Rebecca. You miss out on so much. Doesn’t she, Charles? Do you think you will ever persuade her? I suppose if you cannot, then you can always come riding with me. I shall
never
say no to you.’ She smiled flirtatiously and then headed for the staircase. ‘Excuse me. I must change out of these wet things.’

Rebecca watched her leave and then turned back to Charles. ‘Don’t ask her to ride with you again, please, Charles. I don’t like to think of the two of you out without me.’

‘My dear, I did not ask her. Not on this occasion, in any case. I came across her, on the road just outside Bridhampton. We chatted for a few minutes then as it began to rain, she suggested we gallop back here together.’ He sighed, and took her hand. ‘Why do you not like to think of us riding together? Your fiancé and your sister – is it not a good thing that we are friends?’

‘She is not my sister,’ Rebecca retorted. ‘She is the daughter of our one-time housekeeper. That is all. My father continued to give her a home after her mother died out of the goodness of his heart. Sometimes I wish he had not done so.’

‘Rebecca! That is harsh. Where else would she have gone? Would you have had her go to the workhouse? I only referred to her as your sister because that is how you yourself described her in the past, when I first met you. I don’t know what has caused this cooling of your relationship with her but I sincerely hope it can be reversed. If there is anything I can do to help reconcile the two of you, then of course I will do it – you only have to ask.’

‘The only thing I ask is that you stop riding with her. If you desire a riding companion then there are always grooms in our stables who need to exercise Papa’s horses. Go with one of them.’

‘I can’t ask your father’s servants to ride with me. They are busy with other duties. You must excuse me now, Rebecca. It looks as though the rain has eased off. I should go home and change my clothes. I shall call on you tomorrow, if the weather is fine.’ He bowed to her and left, by the servants’ passageway.

Rebecca was left standing alone in the hallway. She realised he had not actually promised to stop riding with Sarah, at all.

As he had promised, Charles returned the next day. Rebecca was pleased that he came to the front door, where he was admitted by Spencer, and shown straight into the drawing room where she had been sitting quietly reading a book of poetry. Sarah, Rebecca knew, had been lurking near the stables, dressed for riding, and hoping to catch him when he arrived and before he came into the house. She smiled. This time things had worked in her favour.

‘Charles, how lovely to see you! Spencer, would you arrange for coffee to be brought to us in a little while, please?’

‘Of course, Miss Winton.’ Spencer bowed as he closed the drawing room doors, leaving them alone.

‘It is a lovely day. Perhaps we might go for a stroll after coffee?’ Rebecca said. ‘Come and sit with me.’ She patted the space beside her on the sofa.

‘I shall stand, for the moment, Rebecca.’ Charles strode over to the window and stood with his back to her, gazing out over the formal gardens.

Rebecca was puzzled. What was wrong with him? Usually he would sit beside her, kiss her hand, chat happily about this and that, and all in all seem both delighted and contented to be in her presence. Today there was a prickliness about him, an unease. As if he had something to say to her and yet didn’t know how to say it. She began to feel uneasy herself. ‘Does it look as though the sun will stay out?’ she said, to fill the silence. ‘After yesterday’s squalls it is good to have some more settled weather. The garden will have appreciated the rain, I think, though not the wind…’

He turned to face her. ‘I’m sorry, what were you saying?’

‘Nothing of importance, dear Charles, I was just rambling about the weather and the garden. Such a very English topic of conversation, don’t you think?’

He ignored her and turned back to the window. She felt irritated now. What was so interesting out there? She laid her book on a side table and got up to stand beside him, her shoulder leaning gently against his arm. ‘What are you looking at with such interest?’

He moved away, crossing the room to stand by the fireplace, although no fire was burning on this warm summer day. With a sigh he began to speak. ‘Rebecca, there is something I must say to you. Please, take a seat back where you were. This may well be uncomfortable for both of us.’

She did as he suggested, and looked up at him. He would not meet her eye.

‘Rebecca, it is about our engagement.’

He was going to set a date? Her spirits lifted and she smiled. ‘I am happy to marry as soon as it can be arranged, Charles. I see no reason to wait, and I know Papa feels the same.’

‘The thing is, I don’t think we should set a date. Not now. I – oh, this is exceedingly difficult. I think – I am not sure that we should marry after all. There. I have voiced it.’

‘Not marry? But why? Have you – have you tired of me?’ Rebecca could not believe what she had just heard.

‘No, not tired of you, but, well, I simply don’t think we made the right decision. I think perhaps we felt pressurised into it, knowing it is what our parents expected and desired. We should not have allowed their wishes to force us into something that isn’t right for us. These are
our
lives we are talking about – our futures, and after all, we only get one chance at life. We owe it to ourselves to make the right choices for the right reasons, and give ourselves the best chance of happiness.’

He looked exhausted by the end of this speech. Rebecca was astonished. It took her a moment to formulate a reply. Her first instinct was to contradict him – marrying him felt absolutely to be the right choice, the one that would give her the best chance of happiness, as he’d put it. But if he didn’t feel the same way, then the marriage would not work. He would stray, or stay away from her. They’d feel trapped and become cold towards each other. The love she had for him would endure, but it would be a bitter, unrequited love. He had made his feelings clear. She must accept it gracefully. She wanted to shout, rant and rage, but that would make the whole conversation yet more painful.

‘If that is what you believe, Charles, then I shall not fight it. If you feel we were pressured into our engagement then of course we should call it off. Papa will be devastated, but he will want what is best for me – whatever will make me happiest.’ She felt tears spring to her eyes. Not now. She mustn’t cry. It would pain Charles to see her weep. She took a deep breath before continuing. ‘I should hate to be trapped in a marriage without love, and if that is what ours would become, then you are right that we should break the engagement now, before it is too late.’ She could barely believe what she was saying. With all her heart she wanted to fight to keep him, under any circumstances. But her head told her to let him go, if that is what he wanted.

He fell to his knees in front of her. ‘Thank you, dear Rebecca, for making this easy for me. Well, not easy. It was not an easy thing to say, but you understand – you have proved you understand by your response – that it had to be said.’ He kissed her hand, but she pulled it away, and he got back to his feet and returned to standing near the window.

Rebecca stood to leave the room – it was too uncomfortable to remain sitting there, in the same room as her ex-fiancé, and besides, she wanted to throw herself on her bed and sob, until she fell into blissful, oblivious sleep. But before she had chance to begin moving towards the door it opened, and Sarah stepped inside. She stopped as soon as she saw Rebecca, and looked from her to Charles and back again. ‘What is happening?’ she asked.

‘A private matter. Nothing that need concern you,’ Rebecca snapped.

Charles said nothing. He looked, Rebecca thought, deeply unhappy as he raised his eyes to Sarah’s.

‘Is your engagement over?’ Sarah asked, her question directed at Charles.

He nodded but said nothing. A gleam of triumph crossed Sarah’s face. ‘It is for the best, as I counselled you yesterday,’ she said.

‘You? Counselled Charles to end our engagement?’ Rebecca was aghast. Was this all somehow Sarah’s doing?

‘We spoke about it. He seemed unsure whether the engagement was the right thing to do. I merely said he – anyone – should be absolutely sure before entering into marriage. It is a lifelong commitment, and I believe it should be for love.’

As Sarah uttered those last few words, she looked directly at Charles, who gazed back. Rebecca looked from one to the other. She couldn’t decipher Charles’s expression but Sarah’s was clear enough. Not love, but lust. She wanted Charles for herself. That was clear. Rebecca realised she’d known this for a long time, but had pushed the thought from her mind. Well, it was up to Charles. If he did prefer Sarah, he was welcome to her. She was well rid of both of them. She lifted her chin, and strode out of the room without a backward glance. She would not let either of them see her pain.

Upstairs, she collapsed sobbing on her bed. How would she tell Papa? She resolved not to, not now. He was currently in London, and would hear of the end of the engagement sooner or later. She would not write to him to tell him, but would wait until he returned. She feared it would affect his health. To think only this morning she had been so happy – in love and with her life ahead of her. How quickly things could change!

She did not know how long she had been lying there sobbing when there was a tap at the door, and her maid Tilly entered, not waiting for an answer. She stood beside the bed, twisting her apron in her hands.

‘Oh, miss, I have heard the news and I am so sorry, for you was very happy with Mr de Witt. I cannot think why he broke things off. Please, miss, if there is anything I can do, anything I can get for you…’

Rebecca pushed herself up to sit at the top of her bed, and Tilly hastened to tuck a pillow behind her back. She brushed away the tears that streamed down her cheeks. ‘You are very kind, Tilly. I do not understand either why Charles ended our engagement. But he did, and I must live with it.’

‘Pardon me for saying, miss, but he is a fool who will find no better woman in all of England, than you.’ Tilly opened a drawer and pulled out a handkerchief, which she passed to Rebecca.

‘Thank you.’ Rebecca dabbed at her eyes. ‘I fear he may have already found a better woman. He enjoys Sarah’s company so much. I do wonder – might he transfer his affections to her? It would be hard, but I could bear it, I think, if the two people I love most found happiness together…’

Tilly looked shocked. ‘Miss Sarah? Oh, no, miss. I don’t think he would want her. Besides, she already has…’ She clamped a hand over her mouth.

‘Sarah already has – what?’ prompted Rebecca.

‘I were going to say, miss, but probably shouldn’t, but you being the mistress I can’t keep no secrets from you…’

‘Tilly, please get to the point.’

‘Yes miss, sorry miss.’ Tilly blushed. ‘I were going to say, Miss Sarah already has a sweetheart. ’Tis that Jed Arthur, miss. Word is she goes out to meet him, sometimes on her horse, sometimes walking. He’s not her class, but she do seem to like him a lot.’

Rebecca nodded, but said nothing. She recalled how she had seen Sarah with Jed on the day Charles had proposed. So the servants had noticed too, and were gossiping. She should put a stop to that, she supposed, to save Sarah’s reputation. But why should she? If Sarah really did like this Jed then she was welcome to him. Rebecca would not stand in her way.

Chapter 11

June 2015

Gemma was still struggling to get her head around the fact that Ben had dumped her by the time she went to work the following Monday morning. She’d spent the weekend in her pyjamas, watching old DVDs and eating tins of treacle pudding with custard – the comfort food her mother always gave her if she’d had an upset as a child. Her parents had been horrified when she rang them to tell them the news, and Mum had offered to come to stay and look after her. Gemma had appreciated the offer but turned it down. She wanted to wallow in self-pity for a couple of days. Nat had been round. She was the only person Gemma could bear to see. She’d talked through the break-up a hundred times with Nat, and still could make no sense of it.

But now it was Monday, and time to pull herself together and get back to work. If she threw herself into it it’d take her mind off things. She felt ready for that.

‘Morning!’ Roger said cheerfully, as she tucked her bag into a locker and opened up her laptop. ‘Good weekend?’

‘Erm, no. Not really.’ She might as well tell him now, straight out. She took a deep breath to try to stop herself blubbing. That wouldn’t do. Not in front of the boss, even if the boss was just sweet, geeky Roger. ‘I broke up with Ben. Well, he broke up with me, really.’

‘What, your engagement is off, now?’ Roger’s mouth dropped open.

‘Yeah. All over.’ Gemma felt tears welling up. She stared at the laptop and typed in her password. It took a few goes to get it right.

‘Oh. Well, I am, erm, very sorry to hear that.’ Roger laid a hand on her shoulder in what she recognised was the best he could do at offering sympathy.

After an awkward moment or two she shrugged slightly to indicate he could remove it. ‘It’s OK. Well, it’s not, it’s really not, but what I mean is, I’ll be OK. Right then. I’m going to do two boxes, then if you don’t mind I’d like to dig around to try to find out some more about those ruby pistols and the people of Red Hill Hall.’

‘Good plan. Well, I’ll be out front. We’ve got a school party coming in this morning and I’ll be giving them the usual tour. Christine’s on the desk and gift shop.’