Anne Ashley, page 10
When Briony awoke later than usual the following morning, all thoughts of discovering the identity of the previous night’s mysterious prowler instantly receded to the back of her mind when she was told that Luke had left for London and expected to be away for at least two weeks, or possibly longer. As she consumed her breakfast alone she didn’t know whether to feel relieved, or slightly aggrieved, by this their first separation since the wedding had taken place.
To be fair, she had absolutely no right to feel annoyed, she reminded herself. After all, hadn’t he made it clear from the first that he had every intention of visiting the capital from time to time? But even so, why had he made no mention of his intention to do so? Why be so secretive, for heaven’s sake? Surely he hadn’t feared she might wish to accompany him there?
Sighing, she pushed the half-finished breakfast away from her. She very much envied Luke in a way. Undeniably, if she got away from the Manor from time to time it might make the next few months easier for her to get through, too. But where could she go? She had no close relations she could visit, at least none that had ever been willing to recognise her.
Having strongly objected to the marriage, her mother’s only brother had severed all contact even before Briony had been born. She knew she had cousins, but had never met them. Her paternal relations had remained equally remote. Her grandfather, Lord Winters, had died before she was born, and his offspring had soon squandered the wealth he had accumulated in his lifetime. Her grandfather’s heir had succumbed to typhoid and her other uncle had died in the service of his Majesty’s Navy.
Placing her elbows on the table, Briony rested her chin on her hands. No, the only people she knew lived round here. She could always pay a visit to Bath, she supposed, only to dismiss the notion a moment later as ludicrous. What would be the point in going there? She wouldn’t know a soul. So where was the sense in putting herself to the expense of staying in a Bath hotel?
As if by a natural progression of thought she realised that Luke would not have visited the capital merely for a change of scenery. No, he would have had some definite purpose for making the journey. And it wasn’t too difficult to guess what that single purpose might be—a long-overdue visit to his mistress! After all, what else could have taken him there?
All at once something distinctly unpleasant began to gnaw at her insides, an emotion she’d never experienced before, inducing her to abandon any attempt to eat or drink anything further. Rising from the table, she gave orders for her chestnut mare to be brought round from the stables and remained in the house only long enough to don her riding habit. She needed a brisk gallop to clear her head, to discover a way of not brooding or dwelling on matters over which she had absolutely no control. Fresh air was the best remedy she knew.
Whether it was because she couldn’t quite thrust Luke’s unexpected desertion out of her mind entirely, Briony suddenly realised she had automatically taken the winding lane that led to the coast road, the ride that Luke was so fond of exploring. Annoyed with herself, she was on the point of turning her mare eastwards when the groom happened to mention that he hadn’t explored the area in many a long year.
Briony simply couldn’t find it within herself selfishly to deny him the pleasure of reacquainting himself with the ancient coastal road. It was while Sam was regaling her with those smuggling tales of old and Lord Petersham’s country mansion, set high on a cliff overlooking a bay, came into view, that Briony noticed none other than the young Customs’ Riding officer coming towards them.
‘Good morning, Lieutenant Henshaw,’ she greeted him, thereby inducing him to stop.
The lieutenant was a very serious young man, not given to smiling much, though he made a half-hearted attempt to do so as he doffed his hat politely. His sharp dark eyes then slid briefly in the groom’s direction.
‘Your husband not accompanying you today, ma’am, I see. I’m rather surprised. I frequently come upon him riding this way, as do my men.’
Was it pure imagination on her part, or had there been some sinister underlying meaning in what on the surface had been a simple observation on his part? ‘You’ll not see him today…not for several days, as it happens,’ she informed him, now very much on her guard. ‘He has business in London.’
Although he made no comment, she knew he had digested the information. Then, as he turned his head to scan the bay far below, she noticed those sharp eyes of his narrow almost speculatively.
‘Are you on the lookout for smugglers even at this time of day, Lieutenant? No one would be foolish enough to attempt to land goods during daylight hours, surely?’
‘You’d be surprised how bold some of the free traders can be, ma’am. But, no, it isn’t usual. They prefer the cover of darkness. The Customs’ cruisers and Revenue cutters do a deal to deter the illicit trade, but it still goes on all along the coast. Of course our job would be made much easier if certain people in the community didn’t actively encourage the trade by providing a profitable market for smuggled goods.’
As he had spoken his eyes had strayed briefly in the direction of the large mansion overlooking the bay. Consequently, Briony couldn’t help wondering whether he had been alluding to the Petersham family in particular. She had no way of knowing whether Lord Petersham had paid duty on all his stocks of brandy and rum down the years, or had been happy to accept smuggled goods. All the same, she wasn’t so naïve as to suppose there weren’t plenty round and about who would be only too happy to pay less for a variety of wares.
Unbidden, a vision of the delightful dark blue dress, now hanging in her wardrobe, flashed before her mind’s eye yet again and she hurriedly looked out to sea, lest her expression betray the guilty secret to those ever-watchful dark eyes, before remarking, ‘Well, I’m certain of one thing—my late godmother wasn’t one of their number, sir.’
‘Perhaps not, ma’am. But I know for a fact the Manor once had strong links to the trade, very strong indeed. And it would be foolish to suppose it might never be so again.’ He touched his hat. ‘Good day to you, ma’am.’
Troubled, Briony watched him ride away. Now, what had been the implication that time? That Luke might be connected in some way with free trading, just because he happened to enjoy riding along the coast road? What did he imagine Luke was attempting to do—monitor the movements of the Customs’ officials and the Customs’ cruisers? Why, that was just ridiculous, she told herself.
All the same, a seed of doubt was being sown as memory stirred and she recalled the late-night prowler. Might it have been Luke and not, as she had first supposed, a servant? And, if so, what could possibly have induced him to go a-wandering again?
* * *
By the time she had returned to the Manor and had questioned all the servants in an attempt to discover if one of them had just happened to wander down to the kitchen for any reason the night before, and had received a firm denial from each and every one of them in response, that newly seeded doubt began to grow at an alarming rate.
The late-night wanderer could only have been Luke, surely? And it had not been the first time he’d been on the prowl at a distinctly odd hour, she reminded herself, her eyes automatically straying in the direction of the cellar door.
‘And what makes you suppose any one of us would want to get out of bed in the dead of night and go wandering about the place, that’s what I’d like to know?’ Janet remarked a little testily, as she continued to beat the mixture in her bowl with undue vigour, thereby sending her mobcap askew. ‘We were all tired out after the extra work the party had caused us. Why, the young footman James was dead on his feet, poor lad! I told him to leave putting the dining room to rights until morning.’
Yes, and I’m rather glad you did, Briony mused, deciding there and then that she must question the footman further, when she could manage to catch him alone. She then favoured the housekeeper with her full attention once again and couldn’t fail to detect that troubled look Janet wore all too often nowadays.
‘What’s wrong?’ she asked gently, the instant the young maid hired to help about the kitchen had disappeared into the scullery. ‘And don’t try to pretend there’s nothing amiss. We’ve known each other too long. You’re as cross-grained as can be over something this morning.’
‘And so would you be, miss,’ Janet returned, continuing to attack the mixture in the bowl as though to vent her spleen. ‘I go to the trouble of getting up bright and early so that I have everything prepared for the master’s breakfast, only to be told he’s taken himself off to London. It’s only common courtesy to let me know if he’s going to be away so that I can prepare menus for the week in advance. Now, I’ll need to redo them all!’
She had sounded genuinely aggrieved, and to a certain extent Briony could appreciate why, while at the same time silently acknowledging to whom she owed her allegiance.
‘It isn’t for you to question your master’s actions, Janet,’ she admonished. ‘And whilst we’re on the subject, might I remind you that I’m no longer a child, but a woman, and, moreover, mistress here. I shall not tolerate being rebuked in such a fashion, not even by you, when others might so easily overhear. If you have any grievances, you may always speak with me in private.’
The reprimand, though gently delivered, didn’t lack the note of authority and it seemed all at once to undermine the housekeeper’s resolve. One moment she was beating the cake mix as though her very life depended upon it, the next she was slumped in the chair, sobbing into her apron as though she carried the cares of the world on her shoulders.
Instantly forgetting her own concerns, Briony seated herself at the table and reached for one hardworking hand, while at the same time casting a speculative glance in the direction of the scullery. The door was firmly closed; the sounds of pots clanging together in the sink suggested strongly that the young maid was busy about her work and hadn’t one ear pressed against the wooden barrier between the two rooms.
‘What’s wrong, Janet? You said the work isn’t too much for you, but you haven’t seemed yourself for quite some little while now.’
No response was forthcoming, though the sobs were thankfully diminishing. ‘Is it that you haven’t liked the changes at the Manor in recent weeks…working for a new master and mistress?’
At last Janet raised her head from the folds of her apron, revealing the hint of a smile behind the sadness. ‘Oh, no, madam, you be a fine young mistress, kind and considerate. Anyone would be happy to work for you. And Master Luke, too, come to that.’ All at once that steely hint of resolve was back in her eyes with a vengeance. ‘But a true wife you are not, nor ever have been, neither. And it’s no earthly use you trying to say otherwise. I know it’s a maid you still be!’
Briony hadn’t known what to expect, but it certainly hadn’t been that damning exposé. Her first instinct was to abide by her promise to Luke and hotly refute it, but Janet’s steely knowing look convinced her she’d be wasting her breath even to make the attempt.
With a flick of her wrist Janet all at once was holding her young mistress’s slender hand. ‘What is it, Miss Briony? You can tell me. Is it Master Luke? Doesn’t he visit your bedchamber at night?’
‘No, he does not,’ she at last admitted, albeit reluctantly. ‘And it’s by mutual agreement, so you mustn’t think badly of your master. And you mustn’t ask me anything more, please. I promised Luke.’ Raising her eyes, she saw at once the worry had not diminished one iota from the loyal servant’s expression. ‘Don’t concern yourself about me. It’s what I want. And you must also promise me, here and now, that you will never breathe a word to anyone else. Believe me, Janet, I’m perfectly happy with the way things are.’
A moment’s silence, then, ‘Are you, miss…?’ The scepticism was clear for anyone to hear. ‘I wonder if you truly know what you really do want yourself.’
‘Of course I do!’ That was the end of the conversation as far as Briony was concerned, and she got to her feet. ‘And to prove it, I want you to accompany me down to the cellar. So bustle about and find us a couple of candles!’
‘What on earth do you want to go down there for, mistress?’ Janet enquired, instantly doing as bidden, her thoughts, seemingly, having quickly turned in a new direction.
‘It will serve a dual purpose,’ Briony answered, leading the way down the stone steps into the dank gloom. ‘Firstly, I wish to have a good look round, just to assure myself we have adequate supplies of everything,’ she added artfully. ‘And, secondly, it will serve to keep you from the prying eyes of the other servants for a while. I don’t want any one of them to discover you’ve been anything other than your usual cantankerous self.’
Briony detected the unladylike snort, but refrained from comment as her attention was instantly drawn to what looked like the remains of a broken bottle and the telltale reddish stain on the floor, surprisingly close to one of the wine racks where only white dessert wines were stored. ‘Oh, dear, a casualty of last night’s festivities, no doubt,’ she remarked, instantly accepting that such occurrences happened from time to time and that one could hardly blame the servants when they were obliged to carry so many extra supplies up from the cellar to cater for such occasions.
‘Ah, yes! I recall, now, young James making mention of that this morning. Said he’d found a broken bottle down here, while he was collecting stocks to refill the decanters. Swears it wasn’t him that broke it, though,’ Janet revealed, staring down at the stain on the floor. ‘I’ll get young Daisy down here to clean it up properly.’ She looked about at the general state of the floor. ‘It could do with a good sweep out, in any case.’
‘Request her to clean that up properly, by all means. I shouldn’t want one of the servants to stumble and be injured by any shards that remain. But leave the rest of the floor,’ Briony countered casually, as her eyes focused on that clear scratch on stone by the portion of wine rack that was reserved for the very best clarets. If anything, it was more noticeable now than before. ‘There’s no need to push extra work on the poor child when it isn’t really necessary. The rest of the floor can wait for a month or two.
‘By the by, Janet,’ she added, leading the way back up to the kitchen, ‘who now keeps a tally on stocks down here? Is it still you?’
‘No, Miss Briony. Master Luke said as how he was sure young James could take over that duty. He even took it upon himself to accompany the footman down to the cellars a time or two to acquaint himself with the different stocks. Master Luke ordered the last lot of wines from the vintner himself, I believe.’
Did he, now? Briony mused. Interesting…yes, most interesting.
Leaving Janet in her own domain, appearing a deal happier, it had to be said, Briony went in search of the young footman. She eventually ran him to earth in the drawing room, about his duties, refilling the various decanters.
She’d had little private conversation with the pleasant young man since his arrival at the Manor weeks before. Although the undisputed mistress of the house and therefore, strictly speaking, in authority over all the members of the household staff, because of the unusual circumstances surrounding her marriage, she had not wished to interfere in any way with Luke’s own people. The valet Smethers, of course, was mainly answerable to his master; she would never dream of interfering in any part of his day-to-day routine, unless, of course, word reached her that a dispute had arisen with another member of the staff.
She had more or less treated the young footman in the same way as the valet, leaving it to Luke to issue orders when necessary. Now, however, she thought it might serve her cause if she was to begin to exert her authority over the young man.
‘Ah, James, I’m so glad to have come upon you!’
He appeared a little flustered by her friendly greeting and bright smile. ‘I’m sorry, ma’am, to be in here so late, only I’m a little behind in my work this morning.’
‘No need to apologise,’ she assured him. ‘Quite understandable in the circumstances. I’m here merely to assure you that you performed your duties wonderfully well last night. I cannot believe we drank so much wine! I hope those served at dinner were to everyone’s taste. A hostess must always attempt to cater for her guests’ preferences,’ she continued artfully, thereby attempting to lead the conversation in a direction that might ultimately satisfy her curiosity.
‘Now, tell me, James, did everyone imbibe the same wines?’
‘Oh, yes, ma’am, except…’ he frowned slightly ‘…Mr Kingsley, he wanted a different wine served just to him.’
Briony succeeded in suppressing a self-satisfied smile. ‘Oh…? Was there a reason for this?’
‘Why, yes, ma’am! He brought it to me earlier in the evening, before any of the guests arrived, and said I was to put it to one side and serve it only to him. Said as how it was a new wine he’d never sampled before and wished to try, but didn’t want it served to anyone else until he’d satisfied himself as to its quality. It looked a bit weak to me, if anything—the sort one might give to a child.’ He suddenly appeared guilty, as though he’d said more than he should. ‘Begging your pardon, ma’am.’
‘Not at all, James,’ she assured him, favouring him with one of her most beguiling smiles before changing the subject slightly. ‘I went down to the cellar myself a short while ago and couldn’t help but notice a bottle had been broken.’
‘That wasn’t my fault, ma’am, I swear it!’
‘No one’s accusing you, James,’ she hurriedly assured him. ‘I couldn’t help but notice, though, that it was red. A bottle of claret, I understand?’
‘Yes, ma’am, most strange! I thought so myself. Only white wines are kept in that section of rack. Perhaps it had been placed there by mistake. But how it came to be broken, I cannot say.’ He frowned, appearing genuinely perplexed. ‘It wasn’t there when I made my last visit to the cellar, late yesterday evening, that I do know. But it was there this morning.’
Yes, and I’m almost positive I know why. Luke must have dropped it by accident while he was down there, Briony reasoned, before leaving the footman alone to carry on with his work.
