Eye of the Wind (16 page)

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Authors: Jane Jackson

Tags: #Boatyards, #Bankruptcy, #General, #Disguise, #Young Women, #Fiction, #Upper Class

BOOK: Eye of the Wind
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Thrown off her stride by the abrupt change of subject, Louisa blinked. But Sophie, acutely aware of her own
faux pas,
and visibly anxious to retrieve the situation, responded with instant and genuine pleasure.

‘What a delightful idea, is it not, Louisa? That is most considerate of you, my dear. I’m sure we should enjoy it excessively.’

Louisa frowned. ‘I am not generally in favour of eating at midday. However,’ she added graciously, ‘I am aware that the desire for frequent nourishment is more pronounced in young people, and those –’ she glanced at her sister-in-law ‘– of less stringent habits than my own. But in a spirit of charity I daresay I could manage a morsel or two. For I am persuaded that having been without company these past weeks you will be glad to have us remain a while longer.’

‘You are too good,’ Melissa murmured and rose to tug the bell. The conversation turned to the sister-in-laws’ own offspring, their families and social lives. By interspersing murmurs of interest with the occasional question, Melissa was able to maintain an appearance of interest and keep the conversation going while taking very little part in it, allowing her thoughts to drift. They strayed ever more frequently to the woods.

With Gabriel driving Captain, at least the stripped trunks could still be dragged out at the same rate. But if he was driving Captain he could not be felling. Billy by himself would not be able to fell quickly enough to keep both horses working …

She was jolted back to awareness by Lobb’s arrival with the announcement that a cold collation had been set out in the dining room.

Mrs Betts had excelled herself, preparing an array of platters and dishes that occupied a large area of the table. As they took their seats, Louisa fixed her niece with a very speaking look, flicked her gaze toward the butler, and gave her head an infinitesimal jerk.

‘You may go, Lobb,’ Melissa said, wondering with some trepidation what her aunt wished to say that could not be mentioned in front of a servant. ‘We will serve ourselves.’

He caught her eye as he bowed. ‘Perhaps a tray of tea in the parlour in an hour, miss?’

‘Yes, that will do very well.’ Surely then they would leave? But would she have enough time to return to the wood? ‘Thank you, Lobb.’

Knowing she needed fuel to maintain her strength, and hungry despite her anxiety, Melissa took a portion of pie and some thin slices of meat. She murmured agreement as Aunt Sophie complimented the succulence of the cold roast beef and the delightful piquancy of Mrs Betts’s tomato pickle.

Aunt Louisa, determinedly overcoming her reluctance for midday eating, had helped herself from every bowl and dish on the table, and did not speak at all until she had devoured half the contents of her heaped plate. Then, knife and fork poised, she leant forward, her voice heavy with significance.

‘I had not intended – indeed I would not mention it now, except that your mother gave me to understand – of course that was before the scandal – besides, it is better that you hear from us rather than from servants’ gossip what is being said.’

Melissa tried to swallow, but the food had become a solid, choking lump. Setting down her fork, she reached for her glass. The lemonade lubricated her throat, allowing the lump to go down. She had to ask, though she dreaded the answer.

‘What is being said, Aunt Louisa?’

‘That Lord Stratton has returned to England.’

Is that all? She stopped the words just before they spilled out. Her aunt clearly thought the news of great importance. At least it was nothing to do with her father, or his debts. Dizzy with relief, Melissa raised her glass again. The tremor in her hand rattled it against her teeth as she took another sip. ‘Who is saying it?’

‘The person who told me is connected to one of the families intimately involved in the unfortunate affair. More than that I cannot divulge, for it would betray a confidence.’

As it was highly unlikely Aunt Louisa was intimate with any of the Marquis of Lansdowne’s family – for she would not have been able to resist boasting of the connection, however tenuous – her confidante must rank among the Poldyces.

Melissa shook her head. ‘I must say I think it most unlikely, Aunt. Why would he return?’

‘Conscience, perhaps. Who can tell with such a man?’

‘He would need to have taken leave of his senses to risk coming back knowing the hangman’s rope awaits him.’

Sophie sighed. ‘There is something very romantic about a man who will not allow even the threat of death to keep him from the land of his birth. Or perhaps he has made this daring dash in order to wish his brother happy in his impending marriage.’

‘The Earl of Roscarrock is getting married?’ Melissa was startled. ‘I understood him to be in poor health.’

‘That’s as may be,’ Louisa sniffed. ‘But with his younger son in disgrace, the marquis, quite properly in my view, intends to secure the succession. Grace Vyvyan is a strong, healthy girl. You’ve met her, Melissa. She came out the same year as Phoebe. When was that? Now let me see, Charlotte came out in –’

‘Phoebe came out a year after me, Aunt Louisa,’ Melissa cut in calmly. Her aunt’s memory concerning her daughters’ debuts into society was encyclopaedic. These apparent lapses, which occurred on every visit, were Aunt Louisa’s opportunity to contrast Melissa’s failure to secure a husband with her own daughters’ success.

‘So she did. Do you know I can hardly believe it? Both my girls married after their first season, and now mothers themselves.’

‘I have always found Grace a pleasant young woman,’ Sophie intervened, adroitly steering the conversation back to the original subject. ‘But I cannot help feeling she lacks
sensibility.
For someone like poor Baron Roscarrock …’

‘She’s got a level head on her shoulders, if that’s what you mean,’ Louisa retorted. ‘So won’t be expecting any of this romantic nonsense.’

‘But what’s wrong with a little
romance
?’ Sophie pleaded.

Her sister-in-law gave a snort of disgust. ‘For heaven’s sake, Sophie. There’s no place for such frippery when land, titles, and the continuation of the family name are at stake. The marquis needs a good breeder. Grace is one of five, all living, and her mother was one of seven. If Grace is the sensible girl I believe her to be, the marquis will be admiring his first grandchild within a twelvemonth.’

‘Poor Roscarrock,’ Melissa murmured. ‘So great a weight of expectation. I hope it may not prove too much for his frail constitution.’

‘It is such a pity Lord Stratton is not his father’s heir,’ Sophie sighed. ‘For he always enjoyed excellent health. It’s said he has great charm and –’

‘Really, Sophie,’ Louisa interrupted. ‘Of what possible use would it be for him to be heir with the shadow of the gallows upon him and unable to show his face? In my opinion, even if he has come back to England, he would be foolish indeed to return to Cornwall.’

‘Has anyone actually seen him?’ Melissa enquired.

‘No,’ Louisa allowed. ‘But he’s not likely to advertise his presence.’

‘It seems more probable this rumour is just that, a rumour,’ Melissa asserted.

‘Indeed you could be right,’ Sophie agreed. ‘All it needs is for someone to remark how sad it is that Lord Stratton will not be here to see his brother married. Then someone wonders if he
will
come. And before the cat can lick her ear everyone is whispering that indeed he
has
returned.’

‘Yes, well,’ Louisa was testy. ‘The point I was wishing to make – if I may be permitted to finish without further interruption – is this. Had Melissa been a little less headstrong, and a little more willing to listen to those with her best interests at heart, she might have stood at the altar in Grace Vyvyan’s place.’

Staring at her aunt, Melissa was torn between wild laughter and welling anger. She and Roscarrock? Even her hopeful mother had accepted the impossibility of such a match. But the betrothal she yearned for in her most secret heart was equally impossible. Sudden scalding tears pricked against her eyelids. ‘I think not, Aunt. Present circumstances –’

‘Indeed, I need no reminder. Does it not occur to you, Melissa, that had your father not been so worried about securing the future of his only daughter, his health might not have collapsed under the strain?’

‘Louisa!’ Sophie gasped.

Raising a majestic hand that forbade interruption, Louisa continued. ‘It is time certain things were said. Melissa, I would not have you think you alone are responsible. I just ask you to consider the possibility that your behaviour – the behaviour your father indulged, even I regret to say
encouraged
in you – has had consequences beyond those readily perceived.’

Gripping the napkin on her lap tightly, Melissa battled against the sharp stabbing of renewed grief. Her heart pounded sickeningly against her ribs and blackness hovered at the edge of her vision. She clenched her teeth. She must not say
anything,
for she would say too much. Once uttered, words could not be recalled. Like rocks tumbling into a pool, they would cause waves. Who knew how far the ripples would spread?

Then, with a blinding flash of intuition, she saw that her aunt was right, though not in the way she imagined. Melissa was almost certain that her father’s collapse had resulted from the intolerable strain of his financial pressures. Yet had he not encouraged the interests her aunt so deprecated, she would not now be in a position to try and save his business and protect his reputation.

She looked up. ‘Yes, I accept that possibility.’

Her quiet dignity left her Aunt Louisa bereft of words.

When they finally left it was too late and she was too drained and weary to return to the woods.

Next morning while she was at breakfast Lobb entered, bringing the long-awaited letter from Mr Rogers. Ever discreet, the lawyer simply requested that she visit his office at her earliest convenience.

‘Will you send a message to Hocking? I shall want him to drive me into Truro within the hour. John is to inform Gabriel that I won’t be down today as business takes me to town. But both horses will be back at work tomorrow as usual.’

As Lobb bowed and left to instruct Gilbert, Melissa gulped down the last of her hot chocolate and hurried back upstairs to change.

A short while later, decorous in black bombazine, her hair covered by a small white chip hat trimmed with black satin flowers and held in place by a black satin ribbon, Melissa sat beside Hocking as the gig bowled along toward Truro.

‘Got a bit of news, miss. I saw Mr Sibley’s groom down in the village the night of the bonfire. He always comes over to visit his sister for St Peter’s Tide. He tells me Mr Sibley is not wishful to cause any distress at this sad time, but he was wondering if master’s hunters might be coming up for sale.’ Hocking kept his eyes on the road ahead. ‘Didn’t I say he wouldn’t even know he’d been told?’

Melissa suppressed a smile. ‘Indeed you did. Perhaps if you were to see him while I am engaged with Mr Rogers, you could confirm that they are.’

‘Got a price in mind, have you, miss?’ When she mentioned the figure, Hocking pursed his lips, frowning slightly. ‘With respect, miss, if that’s the sum you want – and ’tis a fair one – then I’d suggest you ask more. Mr Sibley is a great one for a bargain, so I hear. He never pay the asking price, ’tis a matter of pride with him. So he’ll try to beat the price down.’

She should have remembered. Had Gabriel not given her exactly the same advice when she went to sell the wood? They discussed the amount of the increase and finally agreed a new figure. It sounded a large amount to Melissa. She was relieved that being in mourning, as well as her gender, required that she distance herself from the transaction.

‘Tell your friend that if Mr Sibley is interested in proceeding, he should contact Mr Rogers, who will be handling the sale on behalf of my brother. After that I’d be obliged if you would call at the tannery and tell the foreman that Tregonning’s Yard has two cartloads of oak bark for sale, and more will be available shortly. Should they wish to purchase, they may do so through Mr Rogers.’

This time she was not asked to wait, but was immediately escorted into the lawyer’s office. She searched his face as he came forward, immaculate in a flatteringly cut frock coat of forest green worn over biscuit-coloured breeches and a crimson and silver waistcoat. He bowed briefly over her proffered hand. His smile held genuine warmth. But as a shadow of concern entered his sharp gaze she lowered her eyes.

‘I must apologise for the brevity of my letter, Miss Tregonning, but I thought it wiser to commit to paper as little as possible.’

Melissa waved his apology aside. ‘I understand completely, Mr Rogers. Indeed, I thank you for your discretion.’ She sat down. As he resumed his own seat he leant forward.

‘I hope I find you in good health?’

She allowed herself a wry smile. ‘You mean, I think, that I do not look to be in high bloom, but as a gentleman you could not possibly say so. I admit, Mr Rogers, I am rather tired. Since I saw you last there has been a great deal to do. Plus the unexpected arrival of rather taxing visitors …’ She made a vague gesture, leaving the sentence unfinished.

‘How are your aunts? Do they keep well?’ he enquired with bland innocence, reminding her once again that behind a façade that could vary from aloofness to geniality according to circumstances he was exceptionally astute. Having acted for her father for most of her life, he was well acquainted with all the family.

‘They seem so, thank you.’

‘What of your mother? Have you received news of her progress?’

‘Not yet, but –’

‘I’m sure you will very soon.’

‘I hope so. Mr Rogers.’

‘Of course. Now you want to know how I fared with my mission. You will be pleased to hear that the news is most encouraging. I was able to negotiate an extremely good price for your jewellery. Better, in fact, than I had anticipated.’ Reaching to the rear of the bureau he drew forward a leather pouch. It looked impressively large and clinked heavily as he set it down and loosened the thong.

As she glimpsed the gleam of gold, tension slid from Melissa’s shoulders like a sloughed-off skin. ‘That’s wonderful! I’m so grateful. Naturally, the first deduction must be repayment of your loan.’

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