Hiding from Love (2 page)

For a while she seemed to lose the will to live and even her daughter's company brought her no solace.

Fortunately Aunt Doris, a rich widow without any children, continued to pay the fees at Fenfold.

For Leonora, school became something of a refuge from the sad memories of Cressy Cottage and she became determined to make the best possible use of her education.

She continued to enjoy Fenfold, but it was always difficult on those weekends when parents were allowed to visit and take their progeny out to tea.

Her parents rarely had enough money to come all the way from Broughton to see her, let alone to indulge her for an afternoon.

Now, of course, her Mama never came at all.

Isobel Lapaz, whose parents lived so very far away in Brazil, was the only other pupil left behind at weekends and she and Leonora became really good friends, sharing a love of books and a sense of fun.

They grew bored listening to the other girls discussing the latest fashions or aristocratic weddings – and they grew particularly bored when the subject of romantic love arose.

“I shall not marry till I have seen the whole world!” declared Isobel with resolution.

“And I shall not marry till I meet a man who knows as much about books as my father!” added Leonora.

Isobel considered.

“I don't think any man is as interesting as reading or travelling,” she intoned solemnly and Leonora agreed.

They preferred their own company and sometimes they felt they were better off than some of the other pupils.

Poor Clara, to have her father arrive at the school in a state of inebriation!

And poor Edith Lyford; her father had died in a far away country and then her Guardian had embezzled all her inheritance!

Isobel and Leonora were so sorry to see Edith leave Fenfold and go to live with an impecunious cousin.

Leonora gave the girl her own volume of Byron's poems and Isobel gave her a beautiful Japanese fan.

Edith had clutched the gifts gratefully to her breast.

“I will never forget your kindness!” she sobbed.

Leonora and Isobel regarded her with concern.

“Is there no hope – of retrieving the money?”

Edith blew her nose.

“My father's partner is soon to return to England.  Maybe he will help, but I don't see how.  My Guardian has just disappeared!”

“Have you met the partner yet?” asked Leonora, her head on one side.  “Do you know what kind of man he is?”

“I haven't seen him since I was five years old, but I remember him as tall and handsome and so kind to me.  He let me dance on his toes!”

Leonora and Isobel exchanged glances.

“Well, he sounds as if he might take good care of you now,” suggested Isobel helpfully.

They often thought of Edith after she had left, but as the months passed they heard nothing from her.

Then Leonora's world became turned upside down again and all thoughts of Edith flew out of her head.

*

One day she was summoned from her art class to the Headmistress's Office.

There, she was astonished to find her mother sitting on a sofa, twisting her gloves nervously in her hands.

“Mama!”

The Headmistress rose and departed from the room.

Mama patted the seat beside her.

“Come and sit here, Leonora.”

Leonora did as she was bidden, noting the gravity of her mother's tone.

“I have some news for you, my dear.”

“News?”

“Yes.  I want you to know that, after Fenfold, your future is assured.”

“What do you mean, Mama?  I would hope that you haven't found a husband for me, because I – ”

“Hush now, my dear.  I have not found a husband for you, I have, rather, found a husband for
myself
.”

Leonora's hand flew to her mouth.

“
Mama
!”

“He is a gentleman of private means.  We shall not – be rich, to be sure, but – comfortable.  Yes, comfortable.  And you will have the protection of a stepfather.  He is a man of firm temperament and – I am quite fond of him – ”

She crunched her gloves into a ball and repeated,

“Quite – fond.”

Leonora at last found her breath.

“Mama, what are you thinking of?  I don't want a stepfather!  You are doing this for me, aren't you?  And you need not.  I will take care of us.  I will find work when I leave Fenfold.”

“Bless you, bless you, my dear,” her mother's eyes filled with tears, “but that is two years away – you are only sixteen – and life is hard for me.  I have to struggle so.”

“Don't, Mama, don't!  I cannot believe you care for this – for this man of firm temperament.  You loved Papa!”

Mama wiped her eyes.

“Oh yes, I loved your Papa.  But he is gone.  And I must be certain that you – we – are suitably provided for.  You must soon move in circles where you will end up meeting a gentleman of consequence.”

“I don't want someone of consequence,” Leonora cried.  “There will never be a man of such consequence as Papa.  I shall never marry – and neither should
you
.”

Mama summoned all her remaining strength.

“But I already have, Leonora.  
It is done
.”

Leonora sank back in her chair.

“Done!  Why did you come all this way just to say it is done?”

“I-I wanted to tell you in person.  When you return home – Mr. Schilling will be there.”

“Mr. Schilling!”

The name made Leonora snort with angry derision.

“He was kind enough to pay my passage here.  I am – quite fond of him.  Quite fond.  You will – show him all the duty of an obedient stepdaughter.”

She rose sullenly to kiss her mother farewell all too aware that opposition was now futile.

“If that is what you want, Mama.”

“It is,” stated Mama firmly.

This exchange between mother and daughter had taken place just over a month ago.

Now, as Leonora watched the school trap draw up, she brooded on letters she had received from her mother.

The small touches of wit, the delicate portrayal of social life in Broughton, had all gone and in their place was a dull outline of domestic chores and lists of improvements that her new husband was undertaking in the house.

It was as if Mr. Schilling was always looking over his wife's shoulder.

Leonora went down the steps, climbed into the trap, and then turned her head to see her trunk being hauled up behind and secured with a rope.

The driver chucked at the one old horse and the trap wheeled round.

The Headmistress and one or two of the other girls who had come out onto the steps, called out their farewells.

Gravel flew out from the horse's hooves as the trap careered through the park towards the Stroud road.

After a moment Leonora opened her reticule.

Her fingers sought and closed over a folded letter.

She drew the letter out.

She read it – or rather, reread it for the hundredth time, as if to find some secret that would propel her confidence through the coming summer.

“
Dear Leonora
,” she read again,

“
I am much looking forward to meeting you and
appreciating all the fine qualities that your mother assures
me that you possess.  I should warn you that I am a man of
firm
temperament and expect to find among all your qualities –
obedience, tact and submission.

Submission to the will of one who is determined to
take up without impunity the mantle of loving stepfather.

How ‘loving' is at this stage a matter for conjecture
until I discover the true nature of the responsibility I have
acquired in you.  Your mother is indeed profiting under my
tutelage and so I hope will you.

Your waiting stepfather,

Thomas Schilling.
”

Unease rose higher and higher in Leonora's breast with each invidious phrase.

*

The coach from Stroud was full and Leonora was very relieved when she and her trunk were finally let down outside the
Black Jack Inn
on the road to the Bristol docks.

The coach had arrived before schedule and the trap from home was nowhere to be seen, so Leonora sat down on her trunk to wait.

She shifted about on the trunk and began swinging her foot to and fro.  She was thirsty and would have loved some lemonade, but was too shy to go into the inn.

A small group of sailors trudged by and they turned to stare at the young girl waiting by the road.

Her little hat framed her pale oval face and green eyes to perfection.  Red-gold curls fluttered over her pretty brow and that swinging foot revealed such a delicate ankle!

Leonora was blissfully unaware that she was the object of such avid attention.

She was just as unaware of the gaze of a gentleman, who had just alighted from a barouche, until he stopped to address her,

“
Señorita
, might I have the pleasure of inviting you to a glass of something to quench your thirst?”

Leonora looked up, blinking.

Two brown eyes in a face so olive in complexion that he could not be an Englishman, gleamed down at her.

“Why thank you indeed, kind sir,” she murmured, “but how did you know I was thirsty?”

He laughed, revealing a set of small pearly teeth.

“In this heat who would not be?  Will you not come into the inn with me?  It's cooler there, I can assure you.”

Leonora shook her head.

“I am waiting for the trap to take me home.”

“A pity!  Beauty and the vine go so well together!”

She blushed to a deep crimson.

Her natural reserve did not often invite such easy flattery.

The gentleman lifted his hat and passed on into the inn.  However he did not forget Leonora and a few minutes later a tavern boy ran out with a glass of ale.

“Yon gentleman there, Señor de Guarda, sends you his best compliments.”

Leonora took a glass of ale from him.

“Please thank Señor de Guarda for me.”

The boy ran off.

Leonora took a tiny sip and grimaced.  The ale was thirst quenching, but in a bitter way that she did not like.

Nevertheless, having no desire to cause any offense to Señor de Guarda, who might well be watching from an inn window, she continued to drink.

She could not help but wonder at his kindness.

She had not been much exposed to the company of men and was therefore innocent of the general effect of her delicate beauty on their sensibilities.

She thought him a very personable gentleman.  He was exotic and flamboyant.

She put the empty glass down on the trunk and rose to stretch her legs.

On the opposite side of the road, a cart piled with tarpaulin-covered crates was struggling over a rut, the carthorses straining with foam flecking their lips.

Suddenly a carriage came rolling on at great speed and Leonora thought in alarm that it would surely run into the back of the cart.

At the last minute the carriage swerved, its wheels running into the ditch at Leonora's feet.

She caught a quick glimpse of a crest imprinted on the carriage door before she felt herself engulfed in a wash of black muddy water.

“Oh,” she spluttered, stepping backwards so swiftly she almost toppled over her trunk.

Her skirt was drenched – and filthy.

The carriage stopped several yards further on and, wiping wet mud from her cheeks, Leonora was starting to stride angrily to the carriage when a tiny creature leaped yelping from its open window.

The creature ran towards Leonora.

Terrified that it would end up under the wheels of some vehicle, Leonora rushed to scoop it up.

As she lifted her head from this endeavour, she felt her bonnet slip sideways and her hairpins scatter.

She turned a flushed face towards the carriage just as the door of that vehicle opened.

A young woman dressed as a maid came tumbling out.  Gathering her skirts she hurried over to Leonora.

“Oh,
gracias
,
gracias
, Miss – ?”

“Cressy,” replied Leonora.

Out of the corner of her eye, she did notice that a figure on the point of descending from the carriage now sat suddenly back into its depths.

‘I am obviously not considered of enough status to be addressed directly by someone who sports a crest on their carriage,' she thought wryly.

“Oh, Miss Cressy, thank you very much,” the maid was saying.  “You have saved it!”

She gazed at the wriggling creature in her hands.

“What
is
it?” she asked.

“Is a dog,
señorita
, a
Chihuahua
.”

“Cheewawah?  I have never heard of it.”

“Is many of them in our country.  My Master – ” she gestured with her head towards the carriage, “he bring her for his elderly relative.”

Leonora looked again and this time noticed that the figure within was a gentleman.  He was leaning forward, his two hands resting atop a silver cane.

She could not discern his actual features, but she felt his eyes upon her.

Half visible though he was, there was something in the gentleman's poise and the quiet intensity of his stare that made Leonora feel a little nervous.

Even at a distance, he exuded power and authority.

He is certainly arrogant, she thought, not troubling to get out of the carriage himself to ask if I was all right.

The maid glanced towards the carriage, seemingly uncertain.  Perhaps even she had expected her Master to follow her?

She shifted the burden of the dog to one arm.

“The Master,” she said, “is so sorry for your dress.  I think – he wants to know, is there something he can do?”