Anne Ashley, page 20
Like most places of work owned by those engaged in the legal profession, Mr Pettigrew’s premises were sombrely decorated and furnished with solid wooden items purchased for their hardwearing qualities rather than any consideration for either style or what was aesthetically pleasing. The most prominent of these was the solid oak desk at which the young clerk worked. As she studied its size and solid lines, her eyes automatically focused on the copy being made of a will.
Ordinarily Briony would never have dreamt of prying into what did not directly concern her, but the sight of her husband’s name written out in full swept aside any ethical consideration, as she stared at the will Luke Henry Charles Kingsley had made earlier that same day, naming her the main beneficiary to his entire estate.
So stunned was she that she quickly re-seated herself for fear her legs would no longer support her. For a few deliriously happy moments her spirits soared with the heart-warming possibility that Luke might truly return her feelings, but then cold common sense returned. All he had done was to take sensible precautions in the event of his untimely death. That did not automatically mean that in a few weeks’ time, when they had been married for that all-important six-month period, he would want to remain with her.
No, of course, it did not, and she would be immeasurably foolish to suppose it did, she told herself. Yet, try as she might, she could not quell that feeling of supreme satisfaction that he cared enough for her to ensure that she would never have any monetary concerns throughout her life. So, it might not be the actions of a man deeply in love, she told herself, but at least it proved he cared enough for her to concern himself over her future well-being. And that was something, surely? It was a long way short of what she most wished for, but at least it was a start!
‘I’m very sorry, Mrs Kingsley, Mr Pettigrew informs me that he expects to be engaged with his present client for another twenty minutes or so,’ the young clerk revealed as he returned to the outer office.
Briony rose at once to her feet. Having experienced a complete change of heart, she wanted only to return to the Manor to be with Luke. It was unlikely she would discover what she dearly wished to know, of course, at least not without revealing that she had been reading a draught of his will, which she swiftly appreciated could result in serious repercussions for the young clerk who was now covering his work over with a blank sheet of paper, evidently having appreciated the grave oversight on his part.
‘In that case I shall call another time. The matter was not of immediate importance,’ she assured him before whisking herself from his presence.
* * *
The shock of discovering she was the main beneficiary to Luke’s estate was as nothing when compared to the severe jolt she received the following morning, when the young footman announced the arrival of none other than Miles Petersham. To have denied him was unthinkable, of course. Not only would he look upon it as a gross insult not to be received, but it might also result in arousing his suspicions. And that was something essential to avoid at all costs!
Consequently, she rose to her feet as he strolled languidly into the front parlour and didn’t attempt to hide her surprise. ‘What an unexpected pleasure, Mr Petersham,’ she greeted him, offering her hand.
He took it briefly in his own, his eyes never wavering from hers even for a second. ‘A pleasure, I sincerely hope. But not unexpected, surely? Now that your husband appears to have settled in the area, I hope we’ll see a good deal more of each other from now on, at least while I remain at the country home.’
‘Do I infer correctly from that that it is not your intention to remain in the county for too much longer?’
He shrugged, before accepting the offer of a seat. ‘I have no fixed plans, Mrs Kingsley. I have remained longer than is customary this time, for various reasons. My cousin’s presence demanded mine. Added to which my father’s continued ill health is proving something of a concern.’
He nodded in acceptance at the offer of Madeira and waited for her to hand him a filled glass and reseat herself opposite, before adding, ‘My reason for calling is that I have only this very day discovered about Kingsley’s unfortunate accident.’
All at once Briony’s brain was working rapidly; she was immediately on her guard as a score of questions tumbled over one another into her head. From whom had he heard? And why had he really come? Was it truly just a social visit or had he become suspicious about something? Had one of the gang members recognised Luke on that fateful night? It was certainly a distinct possibility!
‘I thought it strange that no one seemed to have caught sight of him for the past couple of weeks or so riding along the coast road,’ he continued, once again regarding her closely above the rim of his glass. ‘Nor you, come to that.’
She could only hope her shrug of innocent unconcern appeared perfectly natural. ‘Oh, my non-appearance in the locale is easily explained, sir. I was struck down by a wretched summer chill that kept me abed for many a day. I felt very sorry for myself…until, that is,’ she added, staring sombrely into the contents of her own glass for effect, ‘I discovered what had happened to Luke. Then, of course, my recent malaise seemed trivial in comparison.’
‘Indeed, it must have done. It is not every day one hears of a loved one being set upon by footpads.’ Again those dark eyes of his never wavered for an instant. ‘It occurred in London, so I understand?’
‘Yes. Seemingly he had decided to stay over for a day or so before continuing his journey to Kent. The first I learned of what had occurred was when he returned here. Truth to tell, I was rather vexed with him for not letting me know. Of course I would have travelled at once to the capital to be with him, chill or no chill.’
‘I’m sure you would have done, Mrs Kingsley,’ he responded smoothly, before sampling the contents of his glass. ‘It was none other than Sir Bartholomew Walters who returned him safely to you, so I understand?’
How on earth had he discovered that? Briony wondered, almost choking on the sip of wine she was in the process of swallowing. More importantly, how was she to respond? To lie might prove a grave mistake, as he seemed somehow to have discovered the baronet had been in the neighbourhood. The last thing she wanted was to ruin all those carefully laid plans to bring this man to justice.
‘Why, yes!’ she swiftly decided to admit, while not attempting to conceal her surprise. ‘Such a charming gentleman! Are you, by chance, acquainted with him yourself?’
‘Only very slightly,’ he revealed, a rather unpleasant curl twisting his mouth. ‘I didn’t realise he and Kingsley were so well acquainted. I wouldn’t have supposed they had much in common.’
‘I’m afraid I’m unable to enlighten you,’ Briony responded. ‘I’m sadly ignorant concerning many of my husband’s friends and acquaintances. All I know is that Sir Bartholomew took every care of Luke, for which I shall always be eternally grateful.’ She then detected that beloved voice raised in the hall and almost sighed with relief. ‘But I believe I’m right in thinking they are members of the same club. And here’s Luke now! You can ask him yourself.’
‘Ask me what, my darling?’ Luke queried, coming into the room and acknowledging their guest’s presence with a casual nod of the head.
Clearly someone had informed him of Petersham’s arrival, for he appeared sublimely unconcerned. Only when Briony revealed their guest’s curiosity concerning Sir Bartholomew Walters did his hand check for a moment before pouring a glass of wine.
‘I know him a deal better now than I did of yore,’ he admitted suavely as he sat himself opposite their visitor. ‘I shall for ever be in his debt for ensuring I received the very best of attention, after receiving a ball in the shoulder. He left White’s shortly after I did and witnessed the whole thing. Damned lucky thing for me, otherwise I might have been left for dead. He had me conveyed straight to his home, as it was closer than my own, and I received the very best of care.’
‘Dear me, London is becoming an increasingly lawless place, nowadays,’ Petersham remarked when Luke fell silent.
‘As is Dorset, from what Lieutenant Henshaw was telling me only the other day,’ Luke countered boldly. ‘Apparently he had some success in coming upon a gang of smugglers, would you believe. Sadly they managed to get away with most all the booty, by all accounts. And sadly, one or two soldiers were wounded in the confrontation. There is lawlessness everywhere, it seems.’
Miles Petersham’s brows rose in what seemed mild surprise. ‘Strange the Lieutenant should imagine you are interested in such occurrences, do you not think?’
Luke merely shrugged, continuing to appear remarkably unruffled, Briony thought. ‘He called to introduce me to the new man in charge of the militia—Colonel Maitland. Seemed to suppose we might have brushed shoulders at some time or other during my army days.’
‘Dear me, yes,’ Petersham returned smoothly. ‘One tends to forget you were once doing your bit for king and country.’
‘It seems a long time ago to me, too,’ Luke confessed meditatively. ‘A deal has happened since I sold out.’ He shot Briony such a wonderful loving smile that she almost believed him when he added, ‘I’m a happily married man now, of course. I have more than myself to consider.’
‘Indeed, yes,’ their guest readily concurred, staring from one to the other. ‘Love at first sight, was it not?’
‘Assuredly not!’ Luke did not hesitate to enlighten him. ‘In fact, I have it on the best authority that for very many years I was not looked upon with any degree of affection whatsoever, that I was considered little more than a selfish bully.’
Briony’s spontaneous gurgle of mirth was so beautifully natural that no one could doubt her amusement. ‘Great heavens! I’d almost forgotten that,’ she declared. ‘How one’s opinions can change!’
* * *
She had meant it too. Yet half an hour later, after Luke had seen their alarming visitor on his way and had returned to the parlour, with a face as black as thunder, she couldn’t help thinking that he hadn’t changed that much at all.
Initially she thought it must have been Miles Petersham’s unexpected presence that had vexed him so, until he said, ‘I discovered from the stable lad this morning,’ he began without preamble, ‘that you, my girl, rode all the way into town yesterday without so much as a groom to bear you company!’
‘Did I?’ Briony was nonplussed for a moment. Then she recalled how annoyed she had been when she had left the house. How differently she had felt when she had returned! ‘So I did,’ she at last conceded. ‘What of it?’
‘What of it…?’ Luke cast a pained glance ceilingwards. ‘You might suppose you’re quite capable of taking care of yourself.’ His features softened all at once, as memory stirred. ‘And I’ll own you do not want for courage. But that doesn’t alter the fact that you’re still a woman. And there are some lawless people in these parts, let me remind you.’
She was moved by his evident concern for her well-being, so didn’t attempt to annoy him further by standing her ground and reminding him that in their marriage he had absolutely no right to play the demanding, dictatorial husband. It just might lead to misunderstandings on his part and that was something she must avoid at all costs, most especially now, at this very fragile stage in their relationship, where one inappropriate action, one ill-judged remark, might destroy any chance of future happiness between them.
‘Yes, you’re right, of course,’ she conceded, taking him completely by surprise. ‘And talking of lawless persons,’ she went on with a masterly change of subject, ‘what do you suppose induced the one we were obliged to entertain a few minutes ago to pay a call?’
She knew she had succeeded in channelling his thoughts in a new direction when he came to sit beside her on the sofa, looking decidedly thoughtful. All at once his arm appeared on the top of the upholstery behind her head and he began absently to twist a strand of her long hair, which she had left loosely dressed that day, round and round his finger. She hardly dared to move for fear of drawing his attention to what he was doing, for she felt sure he was too lost in thought to realise.
He confirmed this a moment later by saying, ‘I don’t know, Briony. But you can be very sure it was no mere social call. Something, or someone, must have aroused his suspicions.’
‘Yes,’ she agreed softly, trying desperately to ignore the pleasurable tingling sensation scudding up and down the length of her spine as he continued to play with her hair. ‘He certainly seemed to be interested in Sir Bartholomew Walters.’
All at once Luke was noticeably more alert. He ceased playing with her hair, though the strands remained entwined about his fingers. ‘Yes, he did… That is interesting! Evidently someone, somewhere, must have recognised him whilst he was travelling through the district. Perhaps Sir Henry or Lady Willoughby were out and about that day. I happen to know they are acquainted with him.’ He shook his head. ‘I don’t think we need concern ourselves unduly. Petersham knows nothing of Sir Bartholomew’s secret activities—of that, I’m certain. Petersham’s naturally curious as to what goes on hereabouts. He needs to remain on his guard at all times. Anything out of the ordinary would naturally rouse his curiosity and would require investigation. But in no way did he convey the impression that he was suspicious about us before he left here. Quite the contrary, in fact!’
He looked directly at her for the first time in many minutes, his eyes momentarily widening as he focused on her hair and quickly withdrew his hand. ‘Er, yes,’ he muttered, rising hurriedly to his feet and moving across to the door. ‘As I said before, I don’t think we need be unduly concerned. You played your part of the loving, devoted wife exceedingly well, Briony,’ he added, smiling crookedly. ‘Why, you almost had me fooled!’
But it wasn’t an act, she longed to assure him. But he’d already left the room.
Chapter Fourteen
The day Briony had been dreading arrived all too soon. Luke never so much as uttered a single word, yet she knew, knew from the very moment she took her seat opposite him at the breakfast table, that that all-important despatch from London had reached him. Whether Sir Bartholomew had sent instructions by private messenger, or the footman had been dispatched to the receiving office earlier that morning and had already collected a certain vitally important letter for his master, she had no way of knowing. All the same, there was a suggestion of tension about Luke, a hint of resolve in the set of his shoulders and about his mouth, as though to confirm that nothing and no one could ever hope to detract him from his purpose. As if she didn’t know that already! At least she knew nothing she could say would ever persuade him to leave a certain someone’s fate in the hands of others.
From the day of Miles Petersham’s unexpected visit, almost a fortnight before, there had been a change in Luke’s attitude towards her. Although she wouldn’t go so far as to suggest he had deliberately avoided her company whenever possible, though they seemed to have been alone together far less often, there had seemed a certain reserve about him. That easy camaraderie that had eventually developed between them had almost overnight disappeared completely. If he hadn’t gone out of his way to keep his distance in any physical sense, he had certainly seemed to have done so mentally. During the past two weeks he had never attempted to engage her in small talk. In fact, only once had he resembled the companionable man she knew he could be and that, oddly enough, had been the evening before, when she had broken the lengthening silence between them by asking about his family.
Setting aside what he had been reading, he had favoured her with his full attention. ‘But you know about my family.’
‘The Kingsleys I do, yes,’ she had agreed. ‘But I know next to nothing about your mother’s relations. Have you uncles…? Aunts…? Cousins…?’
‘Oh, yes, several, as it happens. My mother came from a large family, nine in all, and she was the eldest. Not all of them visit London, but one or two of them do occasionally make the trip. So I do run into them from time to time. All the same, it would be true to say I’ve always had far more dealings with my father’s family. After all, Aunt Lavinia virtually raised me and Uncle Augustus played a large part in my upbringing, too.’
He had then gone on to reveal more about his other aunts and uncles, and their various progeny, and she couldn’t help feeling rather saddened by the thought that there was every likelihood she would never meet any of them, especially as she had gained the distinct impression that he now wished to exclude her from his world.
She sighed as the lowering thought once again crossed her mind, and glanced up from the food on her plate, which had all at once become so unappetising, to discover him surprisingly staring back at her above the rim of his coffee cup, his expression, as it all too often was nowadays, totally unreadable.
Because of this unexpected display of aloofness, she hadn’t once attempted to develop a better understanding between them by revealing her drastically altered feelings towards him: that he had become the centre of her world. She had judged the time to be inappropriate. She had even gone so far as to force herself to accept the heartrending possibility that it might already be too late for a closer relationship between them. Even so, her secret feelings had not lessened one iota; she very much doubted they ever would.
‘Sir Bartholomew has sent you word,’ she said without preamble, the instant the maid had slipped out of the room and they were alone.
For the first time in many a long day she managed to recognise both surprise and wry amusement in his expression. ‘My, my! I must be getting too old for this game, if you can read me so easily, madam.’
He might have been genuinely amused, but she wasn’t. ‘Oh, Luke, why don’t you confide fully in Colonel Maitland and leave it up to him?’ she implored, even though in her heart of hearts she knew she was wasting her breath to plead with him. ‘Surely Sir Bartholomew has complete faith in the Colonel’s abilities, otherwise he wouldn’t have arranged his transfer here.’
