Jane Austen Mysteries 08 Jane and His Lordship's Legacy (26 page)

brother Edward that he had stayed in Alton--this lady was far too bewitching for
his
fragile state to bear.

Major Spence did not need to proclaim his captivation: tho'

correct and more often silent than not, he frequently bent his dark eyes upon Lady Imogen's face or form, and she did not move to a door or a chair but he was before her instantly as guide. How difficult must be the trials of such a man, placed in a position of subservience to the object of his ardent love! To offer his heart, as he clearly had done, in the shattering knowl-edge that were she to accept him, the match should be called a misalliance by the Great. Had she ever attempted to use her power over him? --Attempted, perhaps, to employ his alle-giance
against
Julian Thrace? I could hardly say. Lady Imogen showed Spence nothing more than easy affection, of a sort she might have reserved for a groom that had placed her, long ago, upon her first pony.

As I stood near Cassandra in the elegant saloon, and gazed out at the picturesque view offered through its windows, I con-sidered of the beauties of the Earl's estate--and very nearly for-gave the theft of Lord Harold's precious documents. To be mistress--or master--of Stonings was an ambition that might inspire any number of crimes!

"And to think that all this has been left slumbering for years!" Henry declared.

"Having never expected to inherit the title--he was a younger son, you know--my father was disinclined to live in the style befitting an Earl," Lady Imogen replied. "I do not think his lordship's memories of childhood in this place are entirely happy ones. And having been a single gentleman for much of his life, he naturally prefers to maintain an establishment in Town--near his clubs and cronies--or retire to his shooting box when a craving for the country seizes him. I cannot re- Jane and His Lordship's Legacy ~ 207

member when we last visited Stonings together; when I was no more than three, I daresay."

The year the Countess of Holbrook ran away with a Colonel of the
Horse Guards,
I thought; and from Henry's looks, his mind was reverting to the same. But whatever the Earl's past feelings towards the house, he did not seem disposed to hold it in con-tempt
now.
So much sudden and expensive activity, on behalf of a putative heir--or an elegant daughter with habits of expence?

"Stonings frightened me when I was little," Lady Imogen confided. "It was always cold and cheerless, and the servants were not the ones I knew. I used to lose my way in the upper storeys and be found crying behind some moth-eaten curtain, convinced I had been buried alive. But now I am grown, I see the place for what it is: an ancient and honourable seat that ought not to be allowed to fall into ruin."

"Mr. Dyer's folk have much to do, I presume?" Mr. Prowting enquired.

Charles Spence inclined his head. "They have been en-gaged on the repairs nearly three months, and are likely to con-tinue their labour a year or more. The roof tiles had given way extensively in a number of places--the south end of the east wing, and the central hall--so that there is damp in nearly every ceiling and wall, and the plaster has required to be re-placed throughout. Then there are the ravages to wainscoting and floors from a variety of feral creatures we are even still dis-covering in various corners, and the collapse of stone walls about the property. For you must understand, Mr. Prowting, that however grand the house itself, it is as nothing to the gar-dens, which were extensively improved in the last century by the present Earl's grandfather, with the assistance of Mr. Capa-bility Brown."

"Major Spence is a fund of knowledge regarding Stonings,"

208 ~ Stephanie Barron

Lady Imogen observed, "and his work is tireless. I believe Charles loves this place better than all of us."

"When one has been far from home, and privileged to de-fend it," he replied, "one cannot help but hold English soil more precious than anything else in life."

"My father would not agree with you!" Imogen chortled. "If you could hear him deplore this rackety old barracks!"

"And yet he chose wisely, in placing the Major here," I ob-served. "Perhaps the Earl will descend upon Hampshire soon, and inspect the progress."

"The Earl will be arrived in less than three weeks' time,"

said a voice from the music room doorway, "and intends, so I believe, to give a ball. I will be three-and-twenty then, you know--and you must all drink to my health!"

It was Mr. Thrace, arrayed in his riding dress; he strode towards us, bowed, and was made known to Cassandra, who alone of the party was yet a stranger to him.

"A ball!" Ann Prowting cried. "I am longing for a ball!"

"Then you must certainly come," Mr. Thrace returned eas-ily, as tho' the office of inviting guests to Stonings was already his, "and as the distance between our homes is so great . . ." his gaze moved with warmth to Catherine Prowting, ". . . you and
all your family
must certainly spend the night."

"Julian," Major Spence interposed gently, "we must leave the details of her party in Lady Imogen's capable hands."

"Does she plan to attend? I had not thought she would re-main so long in the country." Mr. Thrace bowed, a satiric ex-pression about his lips. He lacked her ladyship's high animal spirits this morning--the natural result, perhaps, of his losses at the faro table; but he appeared no less certain of himself than when I had first observed him. He was determined to display himself as the lord of Stonings. The battle, then, was well and truly joined.

Jane and His Lordship's Legacy ~ 209

But which of them
--which of them?--
had Lord Harold's proof ranged on their side?

It seemed unlikely that Lady Imogen should have hired Old Philmore or his nephew to steal the chest; she was too little known in the country, and too high in the instep to condescend in Normandy Street or at Thatch Cottages. But necessity might work the cruellest alteration in a person's habits, and necessity was Lady Imogen's goad. She was distressed in her circum-stances, and on the brink of losing her fortune. In such a case, might she avail herself of those same bonds of obligation and custom I had remarked in our servant Sally Mitchell? Lady Imogen's
maid
might be familiar with every soul in Alton, and be despatched with certainty to the very man required to do the job.

In the case of Mr. Thrace, the matter was entirely easy. He came and went from Chawton and Alton as tho' Hampshire born and bred. He was in the habit of dining at the Middletons', and might have encountered Old Philmore any time these past several weeks; for a gentleman to engage the discreet services of a labourer was a simple matter of pounds and pence. And there was
this
that must arouse the deepest sus-picion in my breast: Thrace had regaled our entire dinner party with the history of the Rubies of Chandernagar--a story which must be apocryphal, and employed for only one purpose: to ex-plain the sudden appearance of strangers at Chawton Cottage, searching by stealth for a hidden treasure--or entering the house by force when its owners were absent.

"Pray come through to the terrace," Lady Imogen com-manded. She did not rebuke the upstart Beau for his preten-sions, or throw down her gauntlet in public; indeed, she looked blithely unconscious. "It is in a dubious state of repair, but will serve charmingly for a nuncheon. See, Charles, how I have or-dered Rangle to scatter the little tables about, and arrange the 210 ~ Stephanie Barron

pyramids of fruit so delightfully? This is the only sort of picnic I will bear: with firm stone underfoot, and ample accommoda-tion for every guest, and no fears of dirt or damp to tarnish one's clothing."

"An excellent arrangement," he replied with playful cour-tesy, "but hardly so like a picnic."

"Bah! You cavalry officers are never content unless you may bivouac on the hard ground, with a fire at your feet and a Span-ish maiden to boil your coffee. I know how it is! Don't attempt to beguile
me,
Charles--I know you for a blackguard of old!"

When the raspberry cordial and the Madeira wine had been drunk, and a quantity of cold meat and peaches eaten, there was nothing to do but watch the Middleton girls chase one another through the grass. Mr. Prowting, with all the beauty of the lake spread before him, expressed a regret that he had not thought to bring rods and tackle; and this began an ex-haustive discussion of coarse fishing among the gentlemen, Mr.

Thrace in particular being addicted to the sport. He and Mr.

Prowting determined to walk down to the water itself, but could not tempt the ladies to join them. Mr. Middleton and Miss Beckford elected to rest in the shade before the arduous jour-ney back to Alton; Cassandra was observing the little girls at play; Henry amused Lady Imogen with an anecdote regarding their mutual acquaintance in Town; Major Spence listened courteously to some effusion of Miss Benn's. I guarded my pri-vacy jealously, and cast about for the most effective means of searching the vast property.

It seemed a ridiculous hope, this idea that I might discover a single chest amidst all the objects of a noble household amassed over more than a century, and that house presently un- Jane and His Lordship's Legacy ~ 211

der repair. Even to attempt such a search was folly, and danger-ously offensive to my hosts. I suspected Mr. Thrace and Lady Imogen equally, but I could not bring myself to steal away from the company, and lose my way in the passages of Stonings, where I might encounter any number of servants duly engaged in their proper affairs. How was I to discern which bedroom be-longed to the principal parties, and how to justify my presence in either of them?

"Do you hunt with your brother, Miss Austen?"

Lady Imogen stood before me, her arm through Henry's.

"As my brother will expose me to derision without re-morse--I must confess I am a sad horsewoman."

"But how is this!" she exclaimed. "Your brothers all mad for sport--intimates of Mr. Chute at the Vyne--and you will not undertake to ride? I have just such a little hunter in my stables even now as should tempt you, Miss Austen. You must walk down with me to visit Nutmeg."

"With pleasure," I assented, "provided you do not compel me to mount. I will stand outside the box and admire your Nut-meg all you wish."

"That will do for a start. Take some of the sugar from the table--we must not arrive empty-handed."

The scheme of a walk being generally broached, and the Prowting girls--no riders themselves--being eager to admire the cunning little hunter, a rather larger party set out for the stables than originally planned. Lady Imogen monopolised Henry with her desire to be made known to the Master of the Vyne, and admitted to all the revels of the local hunt; from her playful words it seemed she intended to be established at Ston-ings by autumn.

"I have long been allowed to hunt with the Quorn," she in-formed Henry, "and must own that I prefer the Melton country; 212 ~ Stephanie Barron

but what is that to the delights of one's neighbours, and the in-timacy of a local pack? I shall not disdain it. Perhaps my father may go so far as to look in once or twice. He is a punishing rider to hounds!"

Mr. Thrace placed himself beside Catherine Prowting, and talked to her of the Prince Regent. "It is a fearful crush at Carlton House, but nothing compared to the present scene in Brighton, where the Prince is established for the summer months. And the Pavilion itself is so exquisitely curious--it is a treat akin to Astley's Amphitheatre, to be bidden in attendance!"

"I have never visited Astley's Amphitheatre," Catherine re-turned hesitantly, "and Papa is most adamant in his opposition to Brighton. Watering places he regards as insipid, and dens of vice."

"As a man of the world, he must fear the effect of your beauty on the town," Thrace observed with gallantry. "You should be carried off within a day of descending upon Brighton, Miss Prowting!"

There were half a dozen horses turned out in the loose boxes; among them I recognised the powerful grey Mr. Thrace had ridden in Chawton. Lady Imogen called for her groom--a spare figure with a weathered face and sharp eyes rather like a monkey's--and said, "Lead out Nutmeg, Robley; I will have my girl admired."

The groom entered the box, and led the mare into the sta-ble yard, so that all the gentlemen might examine her lines and comment upon her excellence as a hunter.

"You paid all of six hundred guineas for her, Lady Imogen?"

Mr. Thrace enquired with an air of surprise. "Very showy, I grant you--and yet she is too long in the back. You will gladly take five pence for her from anybody who will offer it, after your first hard outing, I'll be bound."

Jane and His Lordship's Legacy ~ 213

"Say that again if you dare!" the Earl's daughter flashed.

"Say that again, Thrace--and I'll whip you myself ! I was riding with the Quorn when you were still a raw schoolboy. She is as neat a filly to go as any you've seen! Admit it!"

"She is
too long in the back,
" the gentleman repeated, and turned away.

Lady Imogen was white with fury. The insult to her horse--the insult to her own powers of judgement and her experience in the field--piqued her as Thrace's milder pretensions to mas-tery could not. Her hands clenched convulsively, her breast heaved with a powerful emotion--and I feared she might hurl herself on her putative half-brother if Major Spence's firm hand had not restrained her.

"Too long, perhaps, for a rider like yourself, Thrace," the steward said mildly, "and I should not like to test her either--but in Lady Imogen's hands, she will be the sweetest of goers."

Thrace smiled. His suggestion of contempt only enflamed Lady Imogen further.

"Fetch your grey!" she cried. "Fetch your grey, and let us see who is the better judge of horseflesh!"

"But you are not dressed to ride, my lady," the groom Robley protested.

"What is that to me? I am among friends, not parading in Hyde Park. Pray saddle Nutmeg."

"Hold the horse, Robley," Thrace said with sudden choler.