A Christmas Courtship (17 page)

‘Of course.’ She put down her cup of tea and opened her
reticule
, taking out the folded square of purple velvet and handing it to him.

He placed it on the tea tray, and unfolded it very carefully. The rubies and pearls shone in the firelight as he picked the pendant up. ‘It’s exquisite,’ he said softly.

She nodded. ‘Yes.’

‘Are you quite sure you must part with it?’

‘Beyond all doubt, Sir Edmund.’ She looked at the pendant. ‘I’m sure Lady Hetherington will be charmed with it.’

He replaced the pendant in the purple velvet and took it to a writing desk, unlocking a drawer and putting the velvet inside, then locking the drawer again. Returning to her, he took a purse from his coat. ‘Eight hundred and fifty guineas,’ he said, placing the purse on the tray. ‘Mostly in notes, but with some coins. Do you wish to count it?’

‘There will be no need, Sir Edmund, for I know that it will be correct.’

‘Miss Amberley, I trust you do not labor under the illusion that everything about me is correct, for I promise you that it is not; indeed, of late there has been very little that is correct about me.’

‘I don’t understand.’

He turned away. ‘No, I don’t suppose you do.’

‘Sir Edmund, you’ve been very kind to me, and you’ve offered to help me with my problems. If I can be of any help to you…?’

‘You? Miss Amberley, I rather fear that you are the last person on earth who could help me.’ He spoke with heavy irony, as if bitterly amused by something.

‘Sir Edmund….’

‘Our business is complete, Miss Amberley.’

It was a dismissal, blunt and very much to the point. Slowly
she got up and put the purse in her reticule. ‘Good-bye, Sir Edmund.’

‘Good-bye, Miss Amberley.’

Hurt and bewildered by the sudden change in him, she walked from the room, her footsteps tapping as she hurried across the great hall. Evans emerged from another doorway, and then vanished quickly again as he went to instruct someone to bring her horse around without delay.

She stood alone in the hall waiting for her horse, and suddenly the grand chamber door opened again and Sir Edmund came out. He hesitated on seeing her, but then came toward her.

She faced him, not knowing quite what to expect.

‘Miss Amberley….’ he began.

‘There is no need to say anything, sir, for you were quite right, our business was indeed at an end.’

He stopped within inches of her, hesitating again. ‘Blanche, I must beg your forgiveness, for I was more than a little
discourteous
to you. My only plea in mitigation is that I’m not myself at the moment. Am I forgiven?’ This last was asked very softly.

The gentleness in his voice almost stopped her heart, and she gazed into his blue eyes and was lost forever in love for him. ‘Of course you’re forgiven, sir,’ she whispered, wanton emotions stirring almost bewilderingly into life within her.

For the briefest of moments his hand rested against her cheek, then he turned and walked away again.’ The door of the grand chamber closed behind him just as her horse was brought around to the front of the house.

Her heart was pounding in her breast, and her cheek seemed on fire where he’d touched it. Suddenly everything was so clear, and she knew why the parting with Antony hadn’t been as devastating as it should have been; it was because someone else had invaded her life and her heart. Sir Edmund Brandon had stolen her love, and until this moment she hadn’t even realized it.

‘Your horse is ready, Miss Amberley,’ said Evans, looking a little curiously at her as she stood staring at the grand chamber door.
‘Oh, yes. Thank you, Evans,’ she replied, struggling to collect herself. Trembling, she walked out into the snowy afternoon.

She rode in the opposite direction now, taking the direct route to the church by crossing the park to the postern gate, and then riding up the lane. Leaving a stone as agreed on top of the wall by the lychgate, she rode down to the village, turning right at the fork in the lane to go past the Red Lion and up the street toward Orchard Cottage.

Her thoughts were still of what had happened just before she’d left Amberley Court, and the moment when she’d realized the truth about herself. When he’d touched her cheek and called her by her first name, when he’d spoken so softly that it was as if his voice had caressed her, she’d fallen over the precipice into a love so strong and unexpected that it had snatched her breath away.

When she’d gone to Amberley Court she’d been her own mistress; but when she’d left, she’d been under Sir Edmund Brandon’s spell, and would remain so forever.

No one spoke as they waited that evening in the kitchen at Orchard Cottage. Jake sat again at his last, continuing the
somewhat
intricate repair to his second pair of boots, and Hannah fussed endlessly with some more darning. Mr Amberley was pretending to read a volume of Shakespeare’s
The Tempest,
and Blanche sat on the settle beside him, doing nothing except watch the hands of the clock creep slowly around the dial. It had been dark for two hours now, and they were waiting for Sam Baxter to arrive. What if it had all been in vain, and they never saw him again?

She got up restlessly, going to the window and raising the curtain to look out. It was snowing again, but not very heavily, and it had yet to settle on the part of the yard that Jake had cleared. Her gaze moved toward the orchard, and the ancient cider apple trees that stood so crooked and stark against the virtually unblemished carpet of white. In a few months those trees would be bright with blossom, and the young grass would be fresh and green, but now, in the depth of winter, it was as if the orchard were dead.

With a sigh, she began to turn away from the window, but then a shadow moved between the apple trees, and she paused. The shadow moved again, slipping stealthily from one tree to the next, and then the next, until it had reached the wall of the yard. It was a man, and he halted as he saw her looking out of the brightly lit kitchen window. She saw his foxy face as he pushed his hat back on his head, and her breath escaped with relief, for it was Sam Baxter.

‘He’s here, he’s just come across the orchard,’ she said, leaving
the window and going to open the back door. Ashaft of light fell across the yard, and Sam Baxter stepped into it, his boots
ringing
on the cleared area. He hesitated, his sharp eyes wary. ‘You’ve got the money?’

‘Yes. Please come inside.’

‘There’s better not be any funny business….’ he muttered suspiciously, glancing around as if he expected the constables to jump out at him from the shadows.

‘There’s no trickery, Mr Baxter, I promise you that.’

She stood aside, and he came slowly into the kitchen. His sharp eyes went immediately to her father. ‘Where’s the money?’ he demanded, without preamble.

Mr Amberley got up and came to the table, brushing some of Hannah’s darning wools aside and then taking the purse from his dressing gown pocket. Opening the string, he took out a bundle of bank notes, and then shook out the coins. ‘Eight hundred and fifty guineas, Mr Baxter,’ he said, waving a hand at the money.

‘Count it for me.’

‘I’m surprised you trust me to count it correctly, sir,’ replied Mr Amberley dryly, beginning to do as he was bade. When he’d finished, he pushed the money back into the purse and drew the string. ‘There you are, Mr Baxter, eight hundred and fifty guineas.’

Sam nodded. ‘Seems right enough,’ he said, taking something from his own pocket and placing it on the table. ‘That’s the note you want,’ he muttered, reaching out to take the purse, but Mr Amberley prevented him.

‘Mr Baxter, you wished to check the money, and by the same token I wish to check the validity of the note.’

Sam paused, and then straightened. ‘Do what you want.’

‘Blanche? Will you examine it for me?’

She picked up the piece of grubby, rather crumpled paper and smoothed it out. It was written in a neat, educated hand, and could not possibly have been the work of Sam Baxter himself. She read it carefully.
‘“J. I must see you without delay in the silver room. I need to see you. D”.’

Her father looked at her. ‘Is it genuine, do you think?’

Sam stiffened, suddenly very much on his guard. ‘Genuine? What d’you mean? Are you trying to pull at fast one after all? Of
course
it’s genuine; it’s the one I pulled out of Lieutenant Amberley’s uniform pocket!’

Blanche nodded. ‘I think it is, Father. The words are exactly as Jonathan said to me.’

Mr Amberley pushed the purse across the table. ‘Take your money and go, Mr Baxter.’

Sam’s mittened hand closed eagerly over it. ‘Business complete, eh?’

‘I trust so, sir.’

Pushing the purse deep into his pocket, Sam backed toward the door, as if even now he feared they would spring a trap on him. ‘Just don’t try anything, that’s all. Betsy and me are on our way now, and you won’t find a cleaner pair of heels anywhere.’ With this he suddenly turned, flinging open the back door and running out into the yard. He didn’t flee back the way he’d come, but ran around to the front of the cottage and down the village street.

Mr Amberley drew a long breath. ‘Close the door, if you please, Blanche.’ He turned to Jake. ‘Jake, are you ready to go for Jonathan now?’

Jake nodded, and put down his hammer. ‘I’ll go straight away, sir.’

‘Take care.’

‘I will. I’ll go a different way this time, for the keepers are bound to have found the route Miss Blanche and I used last night. It’ll mean taking a bit longer, so don’t fret if we take a while to get back here.’ He took his heavy cloak down from the hook on the wall, and then tugged on his hat.

As the door closed behind him, the remaining three occupants of the kitchen prepared for their second long wait of the evening.

It was midnight when at last they heard footsteps in the yard, but as Blanche hurried to open the door, she froze with shock, for she found herself face to face with Roderick Neville.

He pushed past her into the kitchen, followed by his men. There was snow on their boots, and it scattered over the kitchen floor. Hannah gave a gasp of dismay on seeing them, and Mr
Amberley rose unsteadily to his feet.

Roderick halted by the table, where the note still lay, face upward, there for him to see immediately if his glance had been lowered. But his attention was on Mr Amberley.

‘I trust you didn’t think I’d forgotten this place, sir,’ he said coolly, brushing snow from his greatcoat.

‘Your activities are of no interest to me, lieutenant,’ replied Blanche’s father, sitting down again and picking up the volume of Shakespeare.

Blanche’s horrified gaze had fallen upon the note, and she looked urgently at Hannah, who was so close that she could have hidden it away among her darning wools without anything being remarked. But Hannah was intent upon Roderick, and had forgotten all about the fragment of paper on the table.

Blanche didn’t know what to do, for the moment Roderick saw the note, he’d know what it was. But how to distract him? She went suddenly to the fireplace to pick up the empty kettle from the trivet in front of the hearth.

‘I see no sense in prolonging the unpleasantness between us, Lieutenant Neville, for I’m sure all this is going to prove to be a dreadful misunderstanding and that it won’t be long before you and my brother are the best of friends again. We were about to take a dish of tea, so perhaps it would be agreeable and civilized if you shared it with us?’ She gave him a bright smile, and went to fill the kettle from the pump by the stone sink.

She felt Hannah’s astonished gaze following her, as well as her father’s, but Roderick’s amazement was the greatest of all. He stared at her, caught off guard at first, and then became deeply suspicious.

‘What trickery is this?’ he demanded, in a tone strongly
reminiscent
of Sam Baxter.

‘Trickery, lieutenant?’ responded Blanche in hurt
reproachfulness
. ‘Why, none at all. Hannah, please put your darning things away and lay some cups and saucers.’

Hannah continued to stare at her for a moment, but then did as she was told, and as she commenced, she at last saw the note. Her hand slid neatly over it, pushing it among the darning
wools, which were at once gathered together and pushed into the work basket.

Blanche heaved a secret sigh of relief as the work basket was spirited away to its cupboard in the dresser and then the cups and saucers began to rattle. She smiled again at Roderick. ‘Will you take tea with us, sir?’

His eyes narrowed, and then an unpleasant smile curved his sensuous lips. ‘Take tea with you? Oh, I’m sure you’d like to distract me, madam, but I’m not taken in by your cleverness. There’s only one reason why you’d seek to be pleasant to me, and that’s because this time your brother is here, in the house!’ He turned to his men. ‘Find him!’

Blanche gave him a reproachful look. ‘Why, Lieutenant Neville, I’m very disappointed in you,’ she said in an injured tone, then she went to hang the filled kettle on a chain above the fire.

She caught her father’s eyes, and gave him a brief reassuring smile, but he’d already guessed why she was behaving as she did, and he nodded slightly. Hannah continued to set out the cups, and then brought the teapot and caddy.

Roderick Neville remained in the kitchen as his men carried out their third fruitless search. At first he was confident that his prey was within his grasp and he remained where he was, but as the minutes passed and there was no sign of Jonathan, he suddenly removed his gloves and paced restlessly up and down, holding the gloves in one hand, and slapping them into the palm of the other. A nerve flickered at his temple, and his lips were pressed angrily together.

The soldiers returned at last to the kitchen, and it was evident that they were reluctant to inform him of their failure. The most senior looked less than comfortable as he saluted him. ‘We’ve found nothing, sir.’

‘You’ve searched everywhere?’

‘Yes, sir.’

Roderick’s cold gaze swung to Blanche and her father. ‘Where is he?’ he demanded.

‘My brother isn’t here, Lieutenant Neville,’ replied Blanche, hiding her deep loathing. She only hoped that he’d left his men’s
horses somewhere in evidence, so that Jonathan and Jake would be warned to keep well away from the cottage.

‘I’m not the fool you evidently take me for, Miss Amberley, for I’m well aware that you’ve been hiding your brother somewhere near here – it has to be near here because you’ve ridden to and from his place of concealment. This is the last time I shall come to search these premises, because Colonel Cummings is of the opinion that the regiment can be better employed on more important duties than searching for a self-confessed felon and deserter.’

Blanche drew herself up. ‘Self-confessed? How can you say that, sir?’

‘Because he’s incriminated himself by taking flight, madam, and because he digs himself further into his own grave with every day he stays away. At first my sense of outrage against him was so great that I wished more than anything to see him under arrest, but now I am inclined to take the colonel’s view. The regiment is well rid of Lieutenant Amberley, madam, and even if he eludes capture, he’s still damned forever in the eyes of society.’

She didn’t trust herself to reply, and so remained silent,
turning
away from him as if to tend the kettle, which was now singing above the flames.

Ordering his men to leave, Roderick Neville glanced around the kitchen for a last time, and then walked out, leaving the door wide open behind him so that they could hear the sound of horses drifting around from the front of the cottage.

Blanche went to close the door again, and then leaned back against it. ‘I really thought he was going to see the note lying on the table.’

Hannah nodded. ‘I was such a fool, sitting there without even thinking about it!’

‘Oh, how I hate and despise that Neville toad!’ breathed Blanche, with feeling. ‘I can’t wait to turn the tables on him!’

Hannah went to the kettle, which was boiling now. ‘Shall I make that cup of tea?’ she asked, not waiting for a reply as she lifted the kettle down and carried it to the table.

She’d barely poured the water into the teapot when the back
door opened again, and Jake came in, followed by Jonathan.

With a glad cry, Blanche ran to her brother, hugging him close and burying her face against his shoulder, which was wet with snow. ‘Oh, Jonathan!’

He wrapped her in his arms, his cheek against her hair. She drew back, looking up at him. ‘Roderick Neville and his men were here a moment or so ago….’

‘We know, we saw them. We waited at the top of the orchard until they left.’ He released her and turned to Hannah, who was wiping tears of happiness away with the corner of her apron. ‘Don’t cry over me, Hannah, for I’ll be all right now,’ he said, hugging her for a moment.

‘Oh, Master Jonathan….’

But he’d already released her and was turning toward his father, who’d risen once again from the settle. ‘Father?’

Tears filled Mr Amberley’s eyes. ‘Oh, my boy….’

Jonathan went to embrace him. ‘Father, I’m so sorry for all this,’ he said, his voice choked.

‘It isn’t your fault, my boy, and we are your family, we’ll stand by you through thick and thin.’

‘But to have sold the pendant….’

‘The pendant was only a talisman, Jonathan, there to be used for just such a need as this. If I’ve forfeited it, then I’ve paid a lesser price than your sister, who has had her heart broken by the reaction of the man she loved.’

‘Blanche?’ Jonathan turned toward her in surprise.

Blanche had darted a warning glance at her father, for this wasn’t the time to broach the contentious subject of her misplaced love for Antony Mortimer, but it was too late.

Mr Amberley didn’t detect the glance. ‘She suffered a
grievous
blow at the hands of the man she loved and intended to marry, Jonathan. Not that I am in any way sorry that the
friendship
is at an end, for he was far from suitable, but that doesn’t mean that Blanche did not suffer a grievous blow at his hands because of you.’

Jonathan was still intent upon her. ‘What is this, Blanche? What man were you to have married? You haven’t mentioned anything to me.’

‘It’s over, Jonathan, so perhaps we’d better leave it at that.’

‘Who was he, Blanche?’ he pressed, coming to take her hands.

Unwillingly she met his eyes. ‘Antony Mortimer.’

He stared at her. ‘That can’t be….’

‘It’s true, Jonathan. I met him while I was out riding, and I fell in love with him.’ Reluctantly, she told him everything that had happened, including Antony’s ultimatum.