The Return of Lord Conistone (11 page)

She felt the colour warm her cheeks. ‘You really are being rather insulting, Captain Bryant’.

‘Then you must blame my feelings for you,’ he urged in a low voice.

He was coming nearer, with an ominous intensity in his eyes.
Oh, no
. Verena jumped to her feet also, saying brightly, ‘More tea, Captain Bryant? I will just ask Cook to bring us more hot water. And I am sure my mother would be delighted to join us’. She raised her voice. ‘Cook! Cook, are you there?’

That did the trick. ‘I must go now,’ he said quickly, stepping away. ‘But—remember I will be here whenever you want me, Verena!’

He departed, leaving Verena cross, upset and more disturbed than ever. As her own tea grew cold, she paced to and fro. Martin was warning her against Lucas. And perhaps he was right to do so. The trouble was that in Lucas Conistone’s presence all reason left her, and her body and her brain became a mass of seething, forbidden emotions.

As soon as she could, she must get him out of the house, and out of her life, for her own peace of mind. Her own sanity.

* * *

Shortly afterwards, they had another visitor. Mr Mayhew arrived in his gig at eleven, to speak with Lord Conistone, he said.

Verena was astonished.

‘His man Bentinck delivered the message,’ Mr Mayhew said almost apologetically. ‘I have done some work for his lordship in the past, you know’.

‘No. I didn’t know,’ she said tartly. ‘He is not thinking of making his will, I hope?’

Her attempt at levity was wasted. Mr Mayhew, not to be drawn, replied, ‘Nothing so serious; though I was sorry to hear of the—fracas the other night, and about his unfortunate
injury. I understand that you also were drawn into a situation of considerable danger, Miss Sheldon’.

‘It was nothing,’ she said quickly.

‘I’m extremely glad to hear it. Your mother is well, I trust? Good’. Mr Mayhew bowed to her and turned to Turley, who was waiting to show him the way to Lucas’s room.

‘Mr Mayhew!’ she called suddenly after his retreating back. ‘About the other night—has Colonel Harrap been making trouble for the Wycherley men, do you know, with his foolish talk of French spies?’

Mr Mayhew hesitated. ‘Nothing you need concern yourself about, my dear Miss Sheldon,’ he said, then proceeded to follow Turley.

Why was he visiting Lucas?
She frowned in perplexity. And suddenly remembered another of her worries.

Mr Mayhew had not yet mentioned the bill for his services on the day of the dispersal sale. In fact, he had not sent the Sheldons
any
bills for his advice for, oh, many months now.

She had intended to catch him before he left, but half an hour later she heard the sound of his gig rattling away down the drive. She bit her lip.
Botheration.

Dr Pilkington was the next arrival; after visiting his patient, he came as usual to make his report. ‘His lordship is recovering quickly, Miss Sheldon. But it’s still just a little early for him to be moving to Stancliffe; he has lost a good deal of blood… I do hope that’s not a problem?’

Verena hesitated. ‘Of course not’. What else could she say?

* * *

But another night went by; and then, it most definitely
was
a problem, because that day at two, Izzy and Deb returned after their stay in Chichester, laden with hatboxes
and parcels. Their mother rushed out to hug them and Pippa was there, too, to hear the news, as Lady Frances began to escort her chattering daughters inside. Then Izzy caught sight of Verena and ran over to her.

‘Wait till you see the new gown I’ve ordered, Verena! I shall wear it in London, for my come-out, and I shall be the most beautiful of them all! Oh, I’m sorry—perhaps you’re thinking we should have spent the money on that leaking roof instead, shouldn’t we, and saved Wycherley?’

Verena felt instant remorse. Twelve guineas wouldn’t save Wycherley. A thousand guineas wouldn’t save Wycherley.

‘Not at all, Izzy,’ she said quickly. ‘I’m glad you’ve had a lovely trip’.

‘Oh, I have, I have! And now—I shall go and see Lucas! He is still here, isn’t he? I shall tell him what a delightful time we had, and how he must attend my coming out!’

Verena jumped to block her way. ‘Izzy, you’ll do no such thing. It’s not at all proper for you to be alone with Lord Conistone!’

Izzy was crestfallen, then brightened. ‘Then I’ll go to my room to unpack my new things!’

Deb had come over meanwhile, to fetch her hat from the carriage.

‘Not proper for any of
us
to be alone with him,’ Deb said silkily to Verena, ‘but what about
you?
Trying your chances again with his lordship, are you? Is that why you bundled us all off to Chichester?’

Verena gasped. At that moment Pippa came up, just in time to hear the last barbed question. ‘What did you say, Deborah?’ Pippa exclaimed.

But Deb had already flounced off to her room with her parcels.

‘Leave her, Pippa,’ said Verena tiredly, ‘it’s of no matter’.

‘It is,’ said Pippa, putting her hands on her hips. ‘Sooner or later I’m going to have a word with that sister of ours!’

* * *

And Pippa did. Half an hour later she came to Verena, who was sewing in the parlour, and her eyes were glittering. ‘Listen. I’ve had a word with Deb. And there is something you absolutely must know. You realised, didn’t you, how upset Deb was when Lucas turned up the other day without warning? She’d been hoping never to see him again!’

Verena sighed. ‘That’s understandable, after what happened at Lady Willoughby’s party’.

‘Perhaps it is, but not for the reasons you’re thinking of! I was wondering—wasn’t it rather
odd
of Lucas to turn up at the house of a girl he was supposed to have lured into a private room and attempted to kiss?’

‘Yes,’ said Verena honestly. ‘But some men take such flirtations very lightly’.

‘Maybe. As it happens, I’ve had my suspicions for some time, but only now have I— Well, let Deb tell you for herself’. Pippa raised her voice and called, ‘Deborah!’

Deb was just outside the door, looking sullen. Pippa said silkily, ‘Come in, sister mine. Tell Verena
exactly
what you told me’.

Verena got to her feet, her pulse inexplicably racing. Deb glanced at her and muttered, ‘Oh, such a fuss. It wasn’t true, my story about Lady Willoughby’s party’.

Verena gasped.

Pippa snapped, ‘Speak up, Deb!’

‘All right, I made it up. About Lucas trying to—to kiss me’.

Verena took a step backwards. ‘Oh, Deb—why?’

‘I wanted him, that was why!’ said Deb sullenly. ‘What girl wouldn’t? I knew it wouldn’t be easy, because I come from an absolutely useless family with no money, but I knew
I was much prettier than the other girls who throw themselves at him! So—I asked him to bring me some wine; I said I would sit in the anteroom, where no one else was, because I was too hot in the ballroom. But—he just sent a footman to me, with a glass of lemonade!’ Angry tears sparkled in her lovely blue eyes. ‘I was so disappointed. I didn’t see how he could turn me down…’

‘Perhaps because he’s equipped with common sense!’ cried Pippa.

Deb clenched her fists. ‘You’re jealous, both of you, that’s your trouble, because I’m so much prettier than either of you! You’ve ended up with just a farmer, Pippa. And Verena, the saintly Verena, you’ve ended up with nobody!’

Fiery Pippa’s colour was high. ‘That’s enough, I think. Quite enough’.

Verena said softly, ‘All right, Pippa. Let her go. The harm’s been done’.

But Pippa turned to Verena when Deb had left. ‘The little cat! She was jealous because it was you Lucas was interested in! You always deny it, but you and he were always together’.

‘Please let it rest, Pippa’. Verena’s voice was sharp.

But she was thinking, in anguish,
That night, after he was shot, he kissed me. He told me he cared for me—and I refused to listen. I couldn’t believe in him, because of his grandfather’s insults, and Deb’s lies.…

Oh, Lucas. Did he really feel something for her after all?

It was too late. Far too late.

Pippa put her hand on her shoulder. ‘I have to go now. But come round later, love, and stay for the night. David will call for you’. And Pippa with a nod, left; but then Verena realised that Turley, who’d driven her sisters back from Chichester, was in the room.

‘Miss Sheldon. May I have a word?’

‘Of course, Turley. What is it?’

He was looking grave. Her heart sank. ‘Didn’t want to tell her ladyship, or your sisters. But I heard, in Chichester, that the magistrates’ court is sitting today. And the whole town was talking of it, because some of our men—Billy Dixon and the rest—were facin’ a charge of treason, Miss Verena!’

She went white.
‘Treason?
I should have known. I should have been told…’

Turley looked embarrassed. ‘Fact is, Miss Verena, I thought you
did
know. You see, I heard Mr Mayhew and his lordship talking about it when I took them in tea yesterday…’

Talking about it. Behind her back. She bit her lip. ‘Is there any news of the case yet, Turley?’

‘No one here’s heard anything yet, Miss Verena’.

But Turley could be wrong. There was
somebody
who might know. Somebody who seemed to know everything.

* * *

When Verena flew into his room, Lucas was dressed and sitting on the edge of the bed while Bentinck adjusted the sling in which his arm rested. Lucas got slowly to his feet, his eyes unreadable. ‘Miss Sheldon. It’s been a couple of days since you last made one of your—impromptu visits’.

‘A word, if you please, Lord Conistone!’

‘Is it a word,’ he said gravely, ‘that Bentinck is allowed to hear? Or would you prefer him to leave us?’

‘No! I mean, yes!’

Lucas nodded to Bentinck, who plodded out, his face a picture, and closed the door.

Verena clasped her hands together. Alone with Lucas Conistone—
again
. How she piled the torment upon herself. Yet this was something that could not be stalled for mere
etiquette. ‘I have just heard this morning, my lord, that the Wycherley fishermen were up before the magistrates. And I’ve also been informed that you have discussed their case with Mr Mayhew! Those men are our tenants. Why was I not informed?’

He said quietly, ‘Because Mr Mayhew had the matter in hand and I did not want you troubled’.

Her heart was thudding. ‘Since when have Wycherley’s villagers been your concern?’

‘You
are my concern, Verena,’ he said.

She stumbled. That look in his eyes. Those dark, hidden, inexplicable depths. She was reminded, all too vividly, of the sweet sensation of his kiss. The heated tenderness of his hands, on her shoulders, her throat, her breasts. And she’d been wrong about Deb. But.
His grandfather. He utterly betrayed you to his grandfather.

She breathed, ‘This is—impossible. I should have
been
there’.

‘They will be all right, believe me,’ he repeated gravely.

The door opened. Her mother tiptoed in. ‘My dear Lord Conistone—oh, Verena! You are here, my love! Lord Conistone, I was going to ask you if—to relieve the tedium of your convalescence—you might care to join us tonight for one of our musical soirées! Izzy and Deb are home again. They sing, you know, and Verena plays the piano quite wonderfully; but perhaps you are quite happy alone here with my dear Verena—such an
accomplished
girl! And—’

‘Mama,’ Verena broke in. ‘Mama, will you go outside, please? I will join you in a minute’.

‘Oh, if I have interrupted something—’

‘You have,’ declared Verena flatly. ‘One minute, please’.

Lady Frances, simpering, left the room and closed the door very softly.

Lucas said to her, ‘The villagers are safe. Bentinck went into Chichester earlier to get me the latest news. I think Mr Mayhew wanted to explain to you himself’.

‘To explain
what?’
Her voice shook with tension.

‘As you know, Colonel Harrap accused your villagers of signalling to the French, on the night in question. The magistrates said there was not enough proof, so the case was dismissed’.

‘Entirely?
They are quite free?’

He hesitated. ‘There was a small matter of surety, as a guarantee of their good behaviour in the future’.

Oh, no
. Surety. How could the estate ever afford it? ‘H-how much?’

‘There is no need whatsoever to concern yourself,’ Lucas went on quickly. Too quickly. ‘A friend, a well-wisher, has settled the matter’.

‘Mr Mayhew! But he has already done so much for us, he has never charged us for
anything
since my father went away, I cannot allow this—’

Something in his face made her break off. Suddenly, with a sickening lurch of her stomach, she knew. ‘Lucas. It was you, wasn’t it?’

‘I told Mr Mayhew that I wanted to help if the question of surety came up, yes’.

She stared at him, her heart thudding. ‘And his bills? For his services to my family? ‘

He said nothing. She breathed, ‘You have been paying those too.
Why?’

He spread out his hands. ‘I wrote to offer my help, Verena, when your father died. I suggested that paying your legal bills might be one way in which I could serve your family. You told me earlier that you got my letters,
but didn’t read any of them. Because you never replied, I assumed the arrangement was acceptable’.

She had burned his letters without even reading them.

And Mr Mayhew too had perhaps assumed that for the sake of her family she was happy to quietly accept Lucas Conistone’s money.

Never. Never. Nothing would make up for either his grandfather’s callous cruelty, or for Lucas’s betrayal of her. Now she whispered, ‘You must go. Please. I will speak myself to Mr Mayhew, of course, but this—your being here—is impossible…’

He gave a slight bow. Said quietly, ‘Of course’.

As she was turning to leave, she saw suddenly that there was a plan laid out on the table, a plan of the Wycherley estate, and froze. ‘What is this?’

‘It’s something Mayhew brought over,’ he said, walking over to gesture at it with his uninjured arm. ‘Verena, did your father ever say anything to you about a stream that ran through Wycherley’s lands, close to the border with my grandfather’s estate?’