Anne ashley, p.14

Anne Ashley, page 14

 

Anne Ashley
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  * * *

  Briony meanwhile had been graciously receiving compliments on her appearance from Lady Willoughby, who had been particularly fulsome in her praise of the fine gems. The baronet’s wife had then changed the topic of conversation completely by voicing her disgust and dismay at the shocking expense of funding London Seasons for daughters, thereby enabling Briony to cast an eye over the increasing number of guests entering the ballroom, while offering words of sympathy at appropriate moments.

  She had spoken no less than the truth when she had admitted to knowing so few people present. Yet, as she continued to look about her, while lending a polite ear to Lady Willoughby’s homily, she noticed that, with the exception of their local vicar and his good lady wife, everyone who had attended the dinner party at the Manor was present that evening.

  It perhaps wasn’t so very surprising to discover Dr Mansfield and his attractive young sister among the guests. Unless she was much mistaken, the good doctor had been summoned to Petersham House on several occasions since setting up his practice in the district. What did come as something of a shock, however, was the attention he now appeared to be paying Melissa Petersham.

  She couldn’t help smiling to herself as she recalled Luke’s somewhat scathing remarks. He had certainly expressed doubts about the good doctor’s character. And maybe he hadn’t been so far out in his judgement. It certainly appeared Dr Mansfield’s interests had switched within a relatively short space of time. At the dinner party held at the Manor she had been the sole object of his gallantry. Here it seemed Melissa Petersham was to experience the full impact of the practitioner’s natural charm and appeared to be enjoying it, too. Oddly enough Briony felt not a whit resentful over the fickle doctor’s lack of constancy and therefore was able to study the couple quite objectively.

  There was no denying, of course, that a connection with such an old and respected family could do the good doctor’s career no harm whatsoever. Furthermore, there was the distinct possibility that Lord Petersham might provide his niece with a dowry enough to tempt an ambitious young practitioner. Only time would tell, she supposed. One thing was for sure, though—Luke had not married her in an attempt to boost his social standing. Nor had he married her for any financial considerations, come to that!

  It was at this point that Briony happened to catch sight of yet another of those whose behaviour she found questionable making a beeline towards her. Fortunately Lady Willoughby herself had provided Briony with the perfect excuse to refuse any offers to take to the floor when she had assured Briony a short time before that no one could possibly object to her elegant attire, providing she observed certain other proprieties and did not dance.

  Consequently, Briony was able to refuse Claud Willoughby without causing the least offence to him or his mother, and directly afterwards slipped out on to the terrace so that she might enjoy a breath of fresh air.

  In stark contrast to the stuffy atmosphere in the large reception room, the air outside, having come straight off the sea, was refreshingly clean and sweet-smelling. Briony walked over to the stone-built balustrade, removing one of her long evening gloves as she did so in order to take more advantage of the refreshing air, then stared out across the blue-grey waters towards the horizon. It was a magnificent view on this balmy summer’s evening, but undoubtedly quite a different story during winter months when the sea was whipped into a frenzy by high winds, and came crashing around the rocky shoreline far below. It was little wonder the mansion had been built in heavy grey stone, with walls thick enough to withstand the fiercest elements.

  Looking downwards, she was surprised to discover the garden was much larger than she had imagined and fell away in a series of wide terraces towards the cliff edge, which was hidden from view behind a substantial shrubbery. Absently she wondered whether it was possible to get down to sea level from there, or whether the cliff face was too sheer to make an attempt. It certainly appeared so from a distance. But then the house appeared much closer to the cliff edge than it in fact was, she reminded herself, just as she detected a slight sound behind her.

  Turning, she discovered none other than the host himself crossing the terrace and moving as stealthily as a cat. If anyone had ever found a safe path down the cliff face, she imagined it would have been Miles Petersham when a boy. Although for all the world he might appear the suave gentleman of breeding, accustomed to partaking in all fashionable pursuits, like Luke, there was about him a certain reckless quality that suggested he would not flinch at possible danger.

  ‘I’ve just been admiring the gardens here, Mr Petersham,’ she admitted, when he continued to stare down at her in stony silence, after having reached her side. His unsmiling scrutiny almost made her feel as though she had no right to be outside, that she had unwittingly offended him by trespassing on his private domain. ‘From a distance the house seems much closer to the cliff edge.’

  ‘Yes, it is misleading,’ he at last broke his silence to agree. ‘The house is set in substantial gardens. One does not appreciate just how extensive until one has explored them.’

  ‘Which, no doubt, you have,’ she suggested, encouraged by the warmth of his tone to maintain the conversation, even though his expression remained quite impersonal. ‘I was just debating whether it was possible to negotiate the cliff face.’

  ‘Unless you were a bird, I would strongly advise against it.’ At last something approaching a smile touched the outline of thin lips. ‘Naturally, I made the attempt as a boy. I’ve more sense now.’

  Once again he subjected her to a silent appraisal. ‘Would I be correct in assuming from what you’ve been saying that this is your first visit to Petersham House, Mrs Kingsley?’

  ‘It is indeed, sir. Since I came to live at the Manor your father has remained something of a recluse. Even my godmother never visited Petersham House during the last decade of her life.’

  He nodded. ‘Sadly my father has suffered indifferent health for quite some time. A series of increasingly severe seizures in recent years has changed him completely. He has no intention of putting in an appearance this evening, not even for a brief period. But I’m sure people understand that he no longer feels equal to socialising.’

  Behind the slight smile, the scrutiny remained intense, as though he were attempting to read her every thought. ‘I hope you’ll forgive the manner of your invitation this time. Please believe me when I tell you, Mrs Kingsley, no slight was intended and that you were not, by any means, an afterthought. It was merely that the party was organised quickly. When I discovered your husband had gone to London, I never imagined for a moment you would dream of coming on your own. I’m so very glad Kingsley returned in time for me to issue a belated verbal invitation.’ He paused for a moment to remove a speck of fluff from his sleeve. ‘I must confess to being somewhat surprised to discover he was willing to desert you so soon after the nuptials had taken place. I should never have considered doing so, I assure you.’

  Perhaps she ought to have felt flattered. The only thing the declaration had succeeded in doing, however, was putting her instantly on her guard.

  Her mind went back yet again to the evening of the dinner party, when she had been introduced to him for the very first time. Apart from the common courtesies any guest would feel obliged to extend to his hostess, he had not singled her out for particular attention. In fact, if her memory served her correctly, he had spent most of the evening in the company of the gentlemen present. So why had he seen fit to favour her with his company now? Instinct told her he never did anything without a very good reason.

  She favoured him with a distinctly coquettish smile in the hope that he might consider she had more hair than wit and consign her to the ranks of mere frivolous females. ‘Sir, truth to tell, I was not happy myself.’ She raised one slender shoulder in a slight shrug. ‘Being a mere woman, I do not understand business matters, but I do appreciate we married in haste, which resulted in my husband removing from his London residence rather abruptly. Apart from other matters, he undoubtedly wished to assure himself that the town house was now safely shut up for the summer. Then, of course, he was obliged to pay a short visit to Kent. His uncle has not been at all well of late.’

  Was it her imagination, or was he taking undue interest in Luke’s affairs? Once again she was mistrustful of his motives and was determined to give nothing away. The chances were that, as he knew all about Luke’s absence, he would also have known of the Manor’s recent visitor. This she could turn to her advantage quite easily by making her remaining behind at the Manor understandable.

  ‘I, of course, could not accompany him on that particular trip. Luke had arranged for one of his friends to stay with us for a few days and did not wish to put him off at the last moment. Do you happen to be acquainted with Colonel Prentiss?’

  ‘Prentiss…?’ he echoed, seeming to consider. ‘I wonder if he’s one of the Hampshire Prentisses—very wealthy landowners, I believe.’ He regarded her again for a moment in silence. ‘Would I be correct in thinking he was the large gentleman who was seen escorting you about the district a week or so ago?’

  So she had been right! She was unequal to suppressing a smile of satisfaction. ‘Yes, indeed it was—a most charming gentleman!’

  ‘Clearly you share your husband’s tastes, ma’am. He is, so I’m reliably informed, frequently seen scouting the coast road. But I sincerely trust he does not take you into that lowly tavern in the cove here below Petersham House.’ His expression of distaste was almost comic. ‘For the life of me I cannot imagine what could induce a gentleman of his standing to venture in there!’

  And neither could she, but she had no intention of owning as much. She was certain now that he was seeking some information, but for the life of her she couldn’t imagine what it might be. Was he suspicious of Luke’s movements…? If so, why?

  ‘And neither can I, sir,’ she freely admitted. ‘But you must remember he was once in the army, so I suspect he’s been in much worse hovels. He would not be discouraged by a tavern’s poor condition if he felt the need to quench his thirst. And the weather has been very favourable of late.’

  Once again a semblance of a smile curled thin lips. ‘In that case, ma’am, if you are about this way again during this pleasant spell of very clement weather and feel the need of refreshment, I sincerely hope you will call at Petersham House. You shall always receive a welcome.’

  ‘That’s dashed civil of you, old fellow!’

  Briony swung round at the sound of Luke’s voice. Yet again he had come stealthily upon her, catching her quite unawares. Only this time she was by no means the only one taken aback. Just for one unguarded moment she thought she detected a glint of annoyance in the dark eyes of the man beside her at the unexpected interruption.

  ‘Once again I have been designated the role of Hermes, this time by that vivacious cousin of yours, and am here to remind you that you have promised to partner her in the cotillion, which is about to take place.’

  ‘In that case it would appear I must desert you, Mrs Kingsley. But before I go, might I obtain a promise of a dance later in the evening?’

  ‘I’m afraid not, sir. I’ve been assured by one of the county’s most experienced hostesses that it would not be considered quite the thing to be seen dancing so soon after my godmother’s demise.’

  He appeared to take the refusal in good part before addressing Luke. ‘Perhaps we might enjoy a game of whist later in the evening, Kingsley?’

  ‘I look forward to it,’ Luke assured him, then waited until Miles was safely out of earshot before speaking again. ‘I saw you slip out here on to the terrace and wondered whether you were all right.’

  The admission revealed two things—firstly, that he had been keeping an eye on her; secondly, that he had, in all probability, seen the host follow her outside a short time later.

  She smiled to herself. ‘Was it perhaps Petersham’s presence that prompted you to delay enquiries into my state of health until now?’

  Unlike her previous companion’s, Luke’s smile was full of gentle warmth. ‘I must confess to a degree of curiosity as to why he joined you out here, yes,’ he freely admitted.

  ‘I’m not so vainglorious as to imagine it was the pleasure of my company he desired,’ she returned, seeing no reason to lie. ‘In point of fact, I gained the distinct impression it wasn’t so much me he was interested in as your recent activities.’

  Not even by the slight raising of one brow did Luke betray surprise. He merely reached casually for her gloveless hand and appeared to find her perfectly manicured nails of immense interest. ‘Now why, do you suppose, is he interested in my comings and goings?’

  ‘I—I really couldn’t say,’ she answered, desperately striving to ignore the peculiar sensation suddenly running through her at the feel of his flesh against hers and to concentrate on trying to discover more about the man whose touch had had the most unexpected effect upon her from the first. ‘I am beginning to think that—that you and Miles Petersham have much in common. You—you are both secretive gentlemen.’

  His eyes met hers briefly as he turned her hand over. Then, before she could withdraw it, he had placed his lips lingeringly against the softness of her wrist. ‘Believe me,’ he murmured huskily, releasing his hold at last, ‘Miles Petersham and I have absolutely nothing in common—except, perhaps, an enjoyment of cards.’

  Once again white teeth showed behind a winning smile. ‘Which reminds me… As you’re intent on denying me the pleasure of dancing with you for the first time, I insist you partner me in my games of whist later in the evening.’

  Briony could not have denied him even had she wished to do so. All at once her throat felt uncomfortably dry. Both Miles and Luke might be men not to be trusted, but there was no doubt in her mind whatsoever now which of them posed the greatest threat to her personally.

  Chapter Ten

  Directly after the Petersham party, life at the Manor surprisingly enough settled once again into a routine of pleasurable harmony. Although she and Luke didn’t precisely live in each other’s pocket, both having interests of their own to pursue, they spent a good deal of time together, as they had in those halcyon days prior to the dinner party and Luke’s unexpected desertion to London.

  They began socialising more often, accepting invitations to many events in the neighbourhood, including a lavish party held at Willoughby Hall, where the baronet’s wife once again proved herself to be the most accomplished hostess in the district. The evening spent with Dr Mansfield and his sister proved equally enjoyable, as did the alfresco gathering at another neighbour’s home.

  As July gave way to August Briony began to observe subtle changes in Luke’s behaviour. When they remained at home in the evenings, she would often catch him staring at her thoughtfully. Their eyes would meet and she would receive the natural warmth of his smile, before he returned to what he was doing, which was usually reading.

  His behaviour in company, too, underwent a change. Although he happily engaged in conversation with others, male or female, at the different social evenings they attended, he refrained from even the lightest flirtation. The only person he singled out for particular attention was none other than herself, a circumstance that gave rise to several comments being made within her hearing about the joys of being married to devoted husbands. Of course Briony knew better. She was feminine enough to enjoy all the attention Luke paid her, but refused to delude herself into thinking that it was anything other than pretence, an act for the benefit of others. Maybe because of this knowledge she remained on her guard and her vigilance was eventually rewarded.

  Since Luke’s return from London she had not once deliberately remained awake at night in an attempt to discover if he was continuing to indulge in his night-time activities. Yet, something had roused her on that particular balmy night at the very beginning of August. The window was wide open in an attempt to allow a little fresh air to infiltrate the clammy atmosphere of the bedchamber. At first she thought it must have been a noise from outside, an animal foraging, which had disturbed her. Then she realised the sounds were coming from the adjoining room.

  Sitting bolt upright, she was instantly alert, wondering what to do. If she followed him and confronted him now, she didn’t believe she would achieve anything apart from putting Luke on his guard. He would then make up some excuse for prowling about the house in the dead of night, as he had done before. No, if she stood the remotest chance of ever discovering where he went and, more importantly, for what specific purpose, then she would need to leave the house herself and attempt to follow him. It wouldn’t be easy, but it was the only way.

  Once that light tread had passed her door, Briony almost sprang from the bed. This time she knew she would need light to aid her and spent precious moments achieving this objective, before rummaging through the wardrobe for her riding habit.

  By the time she had succeeded in dressing herself, she realised Luke would be a considerable distance along the tunnel, if not already at the lodge. She didn’t envisage he had decided to go for a midnight prowl on the spur of the moment. So it was safe to assume that Vulcan would be ready saddled, awaiting his master. Unfortunately she didn’t have that benefit and quite some time had elapsed before she had her mare ready for riding.

  Taking care to blow out the lantern before closing the stable door, Briony led the mare across to the mounting-block. The horse’s hoofs sounded like thunder as they clip-clopped across the cobbled yard towards the drive. A quick glance back over her shoulder was assurance enough, though, that she had thankfully disturbed no one this time. As the same outcome couldn’t be guaranteed again, Briony was determined not to allow the perils of night riding deter her from satisfying her curiosity on this occasion.

  As she reached the village street, she paused and listened but detected nothing, not even the slight rustling of leaves. She saw little point in heading towards the lodge. Luke, if he had not tarried, would have ridden away from there some time ago. But in which direction? Which way should she go?

 

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