A Christmas Courtship (7 page)

No one emerged from the Red Lion alehouse as they passed. The sounds of singing and general merriment continued unabated, for it was the village blacksmith’s fiftieth birthday, and many a celebratory jar of ale had been imbibed. Not a soul was there to see the two horses trot quietly down to the fork in the road, and then turn to the left to ride up the narrow way toward St Mary’s church, which rose tall against the dark skyline.

The boundary wall of Amberley Court park swept in across the fields, meeting the lane directly opposite the church
lychgate
. Tall, well-established evergreen trees hung over the way, their branches moving softly in the stream of cold night air that still carried stray snowflakes to brush icily against Blanche’s face.

There was an unlit lantern suspended beneath the lychgate, and it swung rustily to and fro. Behind the lychgate, a wide gravel path led between ancient yew trees toward the church porch, and Blanche gave a start as a ghostly white shape swooped silently down over the path, vanishing amid the
tombstones
in the graveyard. It was only a barn owl, but her heart pounded fearfully in her breast as she returned her attention to the lane ahead. From the moment they passed the lychgate, they were on Major-General Sir Edmund Brandon’s land, trespassers without any right to be there.

There was no grass to muffle the horses’ hooves now, and it seemed to Jake and Blanche that the noise of their passing echoed loudly in the quiet of the night. They were both very uneasy, needing no reminding that gamekeepers had been known to fire first and ask questions afterward.

The boundary wall still rose sharply to their left, and St Mary’s church rose against the sky behind them now as they rode down toward the river and the disused fishing house.
Half-way
down the hill there was a break in the boundary wall, where a postern gate afforded access to and from the park. It was wide enough for a carriage to pass through, and had been provided originally so that house parties could be conveyed to and from the fishing house. Only gamekeepers used the gate now, and Jake reined in warily as they neared it, listening for any sound that might be a warning, but all they could hear was the low soughing of the wind through the evergreens.

Blanche gazed through the gate and across the park toward the house where she’d been born, and which she still loved with all her heart. It was much closer from this point than it was from the main gates in the village. The drive from the armorial gates was deliberately long and winding, to show off the park to the full, but from here it was possible to make out the lights in the rooms, especially those behind the great oriel window in the grand chamber. Was Sir Edmund in that beautiful room now with his lovely Lady Hetherington?

She looked quickly away, for it was too painful to think of someone else living in the house. Her gaze roamed over the shadowy park, coming to rest on a particularly fine cedar tree,
beneath which she could make out some of the red deer that had attracted the attention of the professional poachers. A peacock called somewhere, probably from the sunken Tudor garden at the front of the house; it was a sound that she’d known
throughout
her life, and now it was a sad reminder of all that had been lost.

Jake moved his horse on. ‘Come on Miss Blanche,’ he said in a low voice, ‘we’d best be as quick as we can.’

The postern gate slipped away behind as they rode on down the lane toward the river. Anarrow, deep, muddy creek fell away sharply immediately to the right of the track, spanned by a rickety wooden bridge. There were many such creeks, or pills, on the River Severn, and this one marked the boundary between Amberley Court land and an adjoining estate owned by the Bishop of Gloucester. Water gurgled and sucked beside the lane, for the tide had recently come in.

The fishing house was balanced on the very lip of the
riverbank,
a delicate little wooden building of Oriental appearance, with a surrounding verandah that jutted right out over the water. It had once been painted a very becoming pale green, but the paint was flaking and faded now, weathered by the
attentions
of many a bitter winter. There was a graceful chimney, for once fires had been lit to warm the modish parties that had resorted to the riverside, but the glass in the little arched windows was either cracked or nonexistent. It was a bleak place now, but still possessed that irresistible air of mystery and danger that had so attracted Blanche and Jonathan when they were children. They’d known full well that it was out of bounds, but they’d been disobedient, and they’d received the punishment they’d more than deserved for such willfulness.

Jake dismounted by the little flight of wooden steps that led up to the verandah. He dropped the food and blankets to the ground, and then dismounted, tethering his horse to the wooden rail before assisting Blanche down.

They could both hear the gurgling and splashing of the river, only a few feet away. When the tide was in, the Severn flowed back upon itself, sweeping inland toward Gloucester instead of out toward the estuary, and the level rose almost eagerly toward
the top of the bank, as if seeking to spill over onto the adjacent land. Blanche always hated it when the tide was in, but in the darkness she hated it most of all, because it frightened her. Her hand trembled on the rail as she looked up at the silent building.

‘Jonathan?’

There wasn’t a sound.

‘Jonathan? Are you there?’

Still there wasn’t a sound, and she looked uncertainly at Jake, who’d picked up the food and blankets and was waiting to follow her up the steps.

‘Go on up, Miss Blanche, I’ll be right here behind you.’

Slowly she ascended, her gloved hand slipping on the damp wooden rail. She paused at the top, for the only way into the building was on the far side, where the verandah was suspended above the river.

‘Jonathan? It’s me, Blanche,’ she called again, glancing uneasily back toward the lane, for it seemed that her voice must carry as clearly as the church bells.

There was a slight sound from within, and her heart leapt. ‘Jonathan?’ she repeated. ‘Are you there?’

‘Blanche?’ The muffled response was barely audible, but it was sufficient to spur her into glad action.

Gathering the skirts of her riding habit, she made her way as quickly as she dared around the verandah, closing her eyes and keeping to the wall as she left the safety of the riverbank and walked above the water.

As she reached the door, a tall beloved figure in lieutenant’s uniform moved out of the shadows.

‘Jonathan!’ she cried, running the final few steps and flinging herself into his arms.

‘Oh, Blanche,’ he whispered, holding her close for a long moment. Then he saw Jake behind her. ‘Thank you for coming, Jake.’

‘Think nothing of it, Master Jonathan, for wild horses
wouldn’t
have kept me away,’ replied the countryman, stepping past them and putting the food and blankets down on the floor of the fishing house. Then he straightened. ‘I’ll wait outside while you talk,’ he said, standing aside as Jonathan drew Blanche inside,
and then stepping out onto the verandah again, where his sharp poacher’s hearing would pick up any suspicious sound.

Jonathan hugged her again. ‘Oh, it’s so very good to see you, Sis.’

She searched his face in the darkness. He was so like her, with the same gray eyes and silver-blond hair, but his face was taut with strain, and everything about him was nervous and
defensive
.

‘What’s happened, Jonathan?’ she asked gently. ‘First there was your letter about the promotion, Miss Jennings, and coming home on leave, then Lieutenant Neville came to arrest you….’

He stiffened. ‘Neville?’

‘Yes.’

Jonathan moved bitterly away. ‘What a fool I was to ever believe he was my friend, and what an even bigger fool I was to give my heart to a treacherous shecat like Deborah Jennings!’

Blanche put a hand on his arm. ‘He said that you were to be charged with theft and desertion, Jonathan, and he also said that
he
is to marry Miss Jennings, not you ….’

‘You tell me nothing I do not know already,’ he said savagely, kicking at the blankets Jake had left on the floor.

‘Will you explain, Jonathan?’ she asked, pulling gently at his arm. ‘Please tell me all about it, for how can I help you if you do not?’

‘Help me? Sis, I don’t think anyone can help me, for I’ve been sewn up in the neatest sack imaginable, as helpless to defend myself as any damned kitten!’

‘Jonathan. …’

He nodded then. ‘All right, I’ll tell you everything, exactly as it happened.’ He took her hand, leading her to a wooden bench that stood against the wall next to the fireplace. When she was seated, he sat next to her, still holding her hand. ‘As I said in my letter, a week ago there wasn’t a happier man in England. I was sure of the love of the young lady I adored, I’d gained the most coveted of promotions to the staff of the commander I most admired in all the army, and I was on the point of coming home on Christmas furlough. What more could any man have desired?’

‘Your happiness was very clear in your letter,’ said Blanche,
squeezing his fingers.

He gave a cynical laugh. ‘I was happy because I was a fool! How could I have been so taken in by Deborah’s lies? And how could I have trusted and admired a rat like Neville? I honestly believed he was taking his defeats like a thorough gentleman, but it’s now only too clear that the very opposite was the case, and he was plotting against me all the time.’ Jonathan drew a long breath. ‘I was in ignorance, right up to the last moment – the greatest gull that ever lived.’

‘Oh, Jonathan.…’

‘There I was, in blissful ignorance, with only two hours to go before I could leave on furlough. I was on duty, but everything was very quiet, without even so much as a drunken private to deal with, and I didn’t even have a fellow to converse with, for I’d seen fit to send the corporal home to his wife in Cheltenham. Suddenly Neville came in with an urgent note from Deborah, whom I knew to be in the town visiting her sick aunt. I can remember that note so clearly.
“J. I must see you without delay in the silver room. I need to see you.
D.” As you may imagine, all manner of alarming thoughts passed through my head. Had she changed her mind about me? Had her aunt’s condition
worsened
? Oh, it could have been anything, but I knew it was very important, because she would not have come to the barracks otherwise. I was still on duty, but Neville so kindly offered to stand in for me. Oh, so kindly … Obligingly, I gratefully accepted his offer and went straightaway to the silver room, which is often used by officers receiving visitors. When I got there, however, there was no sign of anyone, although it was only too plain that someone had been there a moment or so before! The silver display cabinets had been smashed, and some of the regimental plate removed, and the French doors into the garden stood open as if someone had only a second before made his escape. My first thought was that I’d disturbed the thief at his crime, and I turned to raise the alarm, but at that very moment who should come in but Neville and Colonel Cummings. I began to explain, but was met with what I can only describe as a wall of hostility. Neville denied any knowledge of the note, and certainly denied relieving me at my post.’

Blanche stared at him. ‘He denied it to your face?’

‘Oh, yes, and very eloquently. What’s more, he evinced a righteous fury that I should seek to involve
his
bride-to-be!’

‘Jonathan, if there was a note. …’

‘Ah, yes, the note. Well, when I left my post to go to the silver room, I had to cross the parade ground, and a fellow bumped into me. He was somewhat uncouth, but was all apologies, and I thought nothing more of it until I put my hand in my pocket to show Colonel Cummings the note I knew would exonerate me of at least lying about my purpose in being in the silver room when I should have been at my post. The note wasn’t there, and I realized too late that the incident on the parade ground hadn’t been innocent, and that the fellow had picked my pocket of the note! The colonel is a fair man, and wasn’t prepared to arrest me while there was any element of doubt, so he sent someone to Deborah’s aunt’s residence, to make inquiries. It isn’t very far, and I knew the man would return within ten minutes, and in the meantime I was at liberty to move about the barracks. I attempted to demand of Neville what he was up to, but he kept well out of my way, as you may imagine. I went to my quarters, and before I went in I heard the sounds of searching. The colonel had dispatched a sergeant and two men to look for a silver cup which was apparently missing from the silver room. To my utter horror, they found it concealed beneath the mattress of my bed. I beat a very hasty retreat, and was just in time to overhear the man who’d returned from speaking to dear Deborah. My angel had denied writing any note, even though I’d recognized her writing, and what was more, she was tearfully asking for her beloved fiance Roderick to go to her so that she could explain that she was innocent of all involvement in my lies and villainy!’ Jonathan bowed his head, a nerve flickering at his temple as he strove to overcome the emotion that coursed so very painfully through him at the memory of how he’d suffered at the hands of two people he’d put his faith in so mistakenly.

Blanche’s fingers tightened lovingly around his. ‘My poor Jonathan,’ she murmured.

He drew a long breath, and raised his head again. ‘I’m afraid I panicked then. My furlough had officially begun, and I knew
my horse would be ready and waiting for me to leave, and that’s exactly what I did. I showed a cowardly pair of heels because I knew that Neville and my deceitful lady love had laid their plans with the utmost care and precision, and I was about to be incarcerated in the glasshouse for something I hadn’t done. I know I shouldn’t have run, but it was a spur-of-the-moment decision, and now it’s too late to undo it, and I’ve added desertion to the catalog of crimes.’

‘Father thinks you should come home, Jonathan, and then give yourself up to Colonel Cummings.’

‘Without a defense? Blanche, I have to try to prove my
innocence
first.’

Blanche left the matter of his return for the moment. ‘Why did they do it to you, Jonathan? What possible purpose…?’

‘Deborah is ambitious for a title, and one day Neville will be Lord Normanton. Oh, I think she was honest with me for a short while, until she had time to reflect upon a future living on my pay. Neville had wanted her all along, and now pressed her behind my back, and in return for a prospective title and the wealth that went with it, she was prepared to do his bidding.’

‘But why did he do it to you? Was it simply that he was
jealous
over the promotion and Deborah?’

‘There is a little more to it. You see, Neville’s father is rather strict, and has long been displeased with him for his dissolute, irresponsible ways. An incident with a serving girl had proved the last straw, and Lord Normanton had issued his errant son with an ultimatum: Reform, or be disinherited. There was a condition as well – Neville had to prove himself by gaining promotion on his own merits, and not by purchase. That was why he strove so hard for the promotion that eventually went to me.’

Blanche looked sadly at him. ‘It’s his after all now, he told me so.’