Carola Dunn (13 page)

It was all they could do to stop Mrs Daventry following her. The vicar’s wife absorbed Catherine’s brief explanation: ‘‘Tired, nerves overset,” and set herself to soothe the anxious companion. In this she succeeded so well that by the time her husband and Sir Gregory joined them, the lady’s tongue was rattling on as fast as ever.

Like his daughter, Lord Grisedale had retired. It was generally agreed that in the absence of both host and hostess the party should break up. Sir Gregory seemed reluctant to see them go, but he acquiesced with a good grace.

“Shall we see you tomorrow?” he asked Catherine, under cover of Mrs Daventry’s chatter, as he helped her with her wrap. “I hope tonight has not given you an ineradicable distaste for our society.”

“Pray do not regard it, sir. It is for us to hope that Lady Elizabeth will not hold us to blame for her discomfort.”

“I should be sorry to think my cousin so lacking in discernment. We shall, then, go on as before? ‘I am sure, sweet Kate, this kindness merits thanks.’ No, do not tell me Petruchio demanded thanks when he spoke thus. Take it as I mean it, for I do thank you. Miss Brand, will you come and see Beth tomorrow?”

“Of course, if she wishes to see me,” Angel assured him. “I’ll come in the afternoon, unless she writes to say not to. I hope she is feeling better by then. Good night, Mrs Daventry.”

“Good night, Miss Brand. I trust you will remember what his lordship said to you.”

“I certainly shall, ma’am, I certainly shall.”

Catherine heard these words with an uneasy feeling that there was more to them than was obvious. She hoped Angel would confide in her, in her usual candid manner, but her cousin prepared for bed in a thoughtful silence.

Angel was pondering Lord Grisedale’s attack on her. It was most unjust in him to suggest that she had been leading Beth into mischief. However, having been blamed before the fact, her conscience was much easier about her future plans, of which his lordship would undoubtedly disapprove. Only how was she to persuade Beth to meet Mr Marshall? It was very odd that she denied knowing him, and whatever had come over her when Mrs Daventry had been disparaging Mr Leigh? Not to mention the fact that she had earlier asserted that she was prepared to marry Lord Welch!

Angel was thoroughly confused. She would have liked to consult Catherine, but she had told Mr Marshall she would keep his request secret. Lying in the dark, her head buzzing with speculations, she decided that he must allow her cousin to take part in their plans. And to convince Catherine that his aims were innocent, his friend Gerald Leigh, a clergyman she had described as estimable, must also be involved. Between the four of them, surely they could bring about a meeting with Beth.

And then perhaps she would find out just who it was that Beth was in love with!

The next morning, Aunt Maria was overwhelmed by the speed with which Angel completed her chores. She would have to walk up the Crag and she did not know how long it would take, so by half past ten she was ready to go. With fingers crossed behind her back, she asked her aunt if she could go for a short stroll on her own along the track by the stream. Mrs Sutton, busy folding and counting linen with Catherine, agreed absentmindedly.

She hurried down the meadow and over the stepping stones. Brilliant sunshine was already drying the muddy banks of Grisedale Beck, and the stony track was easy going. She noticed scarlet pimpernels everywhere, raising their bright, tiny faces as if to confirm that it was a fine day.

By the time she had struggled up the bare, rocky path, she was hot and thirsty. She went out on the overhanging rock and looked down towards Upthwaite. The distant sound of a church clock told her it was only half past eleven, so she moved back to the shade of some bushes by the path, and sat down to wait.

Scarce ten minutes later Osa bounded up to her, saluted her wetly on the cheek, and rolled over, moaning her need to have her chest scratched.

“You big baby,” said Angel, petting her. “Where’s your master?”

He was not far behind.

“Where is your horse?” he greeted her, dismounting and throwing Thunder’s reins over a bush. “Don’t tell me you walked all this way? I must have been half sprung to have suggested this place! I had not thought . . .”

“You hardly drank anything, it was I who suggested it. You said by the lake. I had not thought, either, that I could not go off on my own on a horse! Never mind, the walk is not so bad if I had not been hurrying. There were pimpernels and lots of other flowers. I am determined to learn their names.”

“Did you ever find out the name of the flowers I picked you?”

“Yes, I did. Mr Marshall, Beth acted as if she does not know you! It is very odd, but I was not able to talk to her about it; we were interrupted. Is it really Mr Leigh who wants to see her?”

He groaned and dropped his head in his hands. “I had not thought! Of course she would not recognise my name.”

“If you do not know each other well enough to have exchanged names, I cannot guess why you are trying to meet her in this surreptitious manner! It seems to me, sir, that you never do think,” said Angel in condemnatory tones.

“I do know her! I’ve known her for . . . for years and years. And I daresay Gerald would
like
to see her, but I
must.
If you do not trust me, will you take his word that I have no dishonourable intentions?”

“I do trust you, so don’t climb up on your high ropes. I have a plan, only Catherine will have to be in it too. And I think it would be a good thing if Mr Leigh is also, because he is respectable and a minister. Now listen . . .”

Twenty minutes of lively argument served to work out the details of their conspiracy. Angel pledged herself for Catherine’s cooperation, and Mr Marshall for the vicar’s.

“I must go,” said Angel at last. “I told Aunt Maria I was just going for a stroll. Osa, take your head off my feet.”

“I’ll take you halfway on Thunder,” offered Mr Marshall.

“No, thank you; with two of us he would probably go off the cliff.”

“I can lead him.”

“Humbug! It would take me twice as long to get home, and for all I know you would be laid up for a week. Good-bye, Mr Marshall. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

He gazed after her with amused exasperation till she disappeared among the trees.

Chapter 10

To Angel’s surprise, Catherine was perfectly willing to help bring Lady Elizabeth and Mr Marshall together, even before she had been assured of Mr Leigh’s approval. She suggested that Sir Gregory should be included in the party; after all, he disapproved of Lord Welch as a suitor for Beth and might be relied upon to take his cousin’s part.

“How can you say so?” responded Angel. “I should never rely on him to be anything but a marplot. Swear you will not tell him.”

“Very well, I will not. That means we must persuade him as well as Mrs Daventry not to accompany us on Monday.”

“That’s easy. Only wait and see. But you must dispose of her.”

They were walking up the track to Grisedale Hall as they talked. They found Lady Elizabeth in good frame, though paler than usual. Angel immediately proposed a horseback outing for the following Monday, and her friend listlessly acquiesced.

“I thought we might ride into Patterdale and look about the shops,” Angel went on, peeping from the corner of her eye at Sir Gregory. “I have a ribbon to be matched and I need some lace and a new pair of gloves, and if I can find some sprig muslin I like I may buy enough for a dress, and, oh, a thousand things. Shall you come with us, Sir Gregory?”

“Thank you, ma’am, I believe I shall be fully occupied about the estate on Monday,” he replied.

Angel shot a glance of triumph at Catherine.

“I shall try to match
my
ribbon also,” declared Mrs Daventry, “so we will take the
carriage,
though whether it is worth the effort in
Patterdale
for the shops are
quite
beneath one’s notice if there were anything better within reach, and I declare one may compare shades
hour after hour . . .”

“It is a tedious business,” agreed Catherine quickly. “If you care to entrust me with your ribbon, I shall do my best to match it for you. I daresay the shops will be excessively busy on Monday.”

“My
dear
Miss Sutton, I cannot
possibly
ask you to take on such a
wearisome
task in my behalf,
indeed
I cannot, it would be the
outside
of enough, though a
younger
person does not feel the
strain,
I believe, as does a
mature
person . . .”

“I shall be happy to do it, ma’am. I have few errands of my own and it will occupy the time while I wait for the girls. We
mature
ladies know how long they take, giggling over every little thing and endlessly changing their minds.”

“If you are
quite
certain it will not be an
imposition,
Miss Sutton. I will fetch the ribbon immediately.”

“Bravo!” congratulated Angel
sotto voce
as Mrs Daventry sailed out. She and Catherine exchanged grins.

“If I were a suspicious man,” complained Sir Gregory, “I should suspect that I succumbed rather more easily to similar tactics. It is not a flattering reflection!”

With a guilty look, Catherine said breezily, “You must allow young ladies a few secrets, sir.

“And
mature
ladies?”

“Mature ladies also. It is a beautiful day, I should very much like to stroll about the gardens.”

“Allow me to accompany you,” he offered with alacrity. “Being of mature years, I suppose we can dispense with a chaperon? We will leave the
young
ladies to their secrets.”

The prompt reappearance of Mrs Daventry did not allow Angel to indulge in any confidences. As with so many of her visits with Beth, the rest of their time together permitted nothing more intimate than an exchange of sympathetic smiles.

As she and Catherine walked home, she came to a sudden decision.

“If nothing comes of this meeting,” she announced, “Beth shall come and stay with me in London this winter, even if I have to abduct her. Between her papa and her companion and her cousin, I do not believe she will survive another year at Grisedale Hall!”

The next day they met Mr Marshall and Mr Leigh in the woods, where anyone crossing the Crag would not see them. Catherine found she was relieved after all to find that the young vicar was lending his support to the venture.

“I was sure it was the right thing to do,” she explained to him, “but those two hotheads are ripe for any harebrained fetch. I am glad I shall not be the sole voice of reason.”

He regarded her quizzically. “I think you know more than you have been told, Miss Sutton,” he said. “You have a discerning eye. Is anything hidden from you?”

“Only your feelings, sir, into which I will not pry.”

“I will tell you this much, as a warning: I am not absolutely certain that I can be relied upon to act reasonably, under certain circumstances. You must be my anchor as well, if you will.”

“I shall do my best, Mr Leigh, and hope that your conception of reason is not too different from mine.”

“Am I to take that as a warning?”

“Under certain circumstances, yes,” she replied with a laugh. “I find I am eager for this confrontation. Let us see if the others have agreed upon the time and place.”

Final arrangements having been made, they parted. Angel was pensive on the way home, but when they reached the stepping stones across the beck, she stopped on the middle one, turned precariously to face Catherine, and announced:

“Mr Marshall loves Beth and Beth loves Mr Leigh. I do not see how we will ever sort it out.”

“It will all work out in the end, Angel,” Catherine assured her tranquilly. “Pray do not make me stand on this stone any longer, or I shall certainly fall in!”

* * * *

Sunday seemed endless, and Monday morning’s chores a thousand times more tiresome than usual. At last Beth arrived at the vicarage, accompanied by a groom leading two horses.

An hour later, their shopping completed in record time, Angel persuaded Beth to take them to see the place where Wordsworth saw his “host of golden daffodils.”

“Should you like to go, Miss Sutton?” Beth asked.

“I should like it of all things, Lady Elizabeth. It is a perfect day for such an outing.”

“Call her Beth, Catherine,” said Angel impatiently. “She has been wanting you to this age but did not like to ask because you are so much older.”

“Lyn, you have a positive genius for making me feel like a granny, or at least an aunt! Beth, you will call me Catherine, of course. You are right, it is much more comfortable.”

The groom was sent home with their purchases. In view of Catherine’s advanced years, even Beth agreed that there could be no objection to the three of them riding together.

They trotted down to Ullswater, and Beth led them along the path where Angel had met Mr Marshall. The shallows at the lake’s edge were alive with mallards, coots, and moorhens, and farther out a family of swans sailed majestically, admiring their own reflections in the still water.

Soon Beth remarked that they were near their destination. Deciding that she must have some warning of what lay ahead, Angel told her they were meeting Mr Leigh.

Pale as a ghost, Beth pulled up her horse. “Lyn, I cannot! I promised Papa—”

“Never to speak of him. That is what you told me. It
is
him then! You did not say you promised not to speak
to
him.”

This sophistry left Beth speechless.

“Did you ever give your word not to meet him?” asked Catherine gravely. Beth shook her head. “Well, I daresay Lord Grisedale assumed you would not, but one cannot be bound by other people’s assumptions, especially when, if you’ll pardon my speaking so, he is given to unreasonable and extravagant demands.”

“Beth, you will not be such a wet-goose as to ruin his life just because your papa is a knaggy old gager!”

“Lyn, where did you come by such an expression?” demanded Catherine, and even Beth smiled faintly.