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Authors: Ann Barker

BOOK: Jilted
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It did, however, seem odd to her that Lady Agatha was so eager to remain in a place that she described as miserable. Resisting the temptation to remark upon this curious anomaly, Eustacia said merely ‘Is Lord Ashbourne siding with the bishop?’

Lady Agatha gave a snort of laughter. ‘Side with the bishop? He would as soon take orders himself! The truth of the matter is that the property is very stupidly divided, which in this instance works to my advantage, because it means that I can play one party off against the other. The vicarage and the land upon which it stands belongs partly to the church and partly to the Ashbourne estate. At one time, the church had the chief responsibility concerning the appointment of the vicar, although the earl was consulted as a matter of courtesy.

‘Then, some years ago, in the reign of Charles II I think, the bishop and the earl were fierce rivals over some wench that each of them wanted to make his mistress. They played cards for her, the game got very heated, and the earl came away from the table with not only the wench, but also a large amount of property, including this village and part of the land on which the church and the vicarage stand. The consequence is that the bishop and the earl of the day are obliged to agree upon the choice of incumbent for the parish. If they disagree, then the earl has a second vote, and his decision stands.’

‘I see,’ remarked Eustacia in enlightened tones. ‘So you can appeal to your brother.’

Lady Agatha could not have looked more outraged had Eustacia suggested appealing to the Devil himself. ‘Appeal to Ashbourne?’ she exclaimed. ‘I would rather have my head shaved. No, my best
course must be to make sure that my brother knows nothing about this. He is in Italy gambling and whoring himself silly, and the longer he remains there, the better.’

‘Surely, the church will consult him, if they have not already done so,’ Eustacia objected, colouring a little at her godmother’s broad speech.

‘Not if I can help it. He was in Greece for goodness knows how long, and that is the last that the church knows of his whereabouts. Now his travels have taken him to Rome. The church has no idea where he is and I have not told them.’

‘How do
you
know where he is?’

‘I have my sources,’ said Lady Agatha mysteriously. ‘They will not disclose their information to the enemy.’

Wondering what her mother would think to this description of the Established Church, Eustacia said, ‘What have you told the church authorities in the meantime?’

‘I have told them that my brother will naturally be taking my side in the matter.’

‘It is what any brother would do, I suppose,’ murmured Eustacia.

‘Poppycock! The only course that my brother would take in such circumstances would be to do the opposite of what he thought I wanted. More tea, dear?’

Eustacia accepted and sat drinking it while Lady Agatha had a conversation with Grimes who had come in to raise some
household
matter with her.

When her ladyship came to sit down again, Eustacia said cautiously, ‘Forgive me, Godmama, but for how long do you intend to … to….’

‘To hold the church to ransom?’ suggested her godmother, her eyes twinkling. ‘For as long as I possibly can,’ she replied frankly. ‘Oh, I know I shall be obliged to leave here eventually. The bishop will find his way around my schemes, and no doubt Ilam will disoblige me by colluding with him, but this battle is so
entertaining
. Packed away in the dower house at Ashbourne, I should be bored to death.’

Eustacia would have liked to ask why the daughter of a wealthy earl could not live as high as a coach horse, but she knew that that would be unpardonably intrusive. Instead, she asked her hostess to tell her something about the history of the village and so changed the subject.

It was while they were drinking tea, and while Eustacia was still taking in the fact that her godmother was deliberately deceiving the church in order to remain in a house to which she was clearly not entitled, that the door opened and a lady wearing a neat but unremarkable bonnet and a modestly cut smoky-grey gown came into the room.

‘Oh, I beg your pardon,’ she said in a soft musical tone.

‘Come in, Jessie,’ said Lady Agatha. ‘Allow me to introduce Eustacia Hope, my goddaughter. You will remember that I told you that she was to come and stay with us for a while. Eustacia, this is Jessie Warburton, who resides with me as my companion.’

Eustacia got up to exchange polite greetings with the newcomer. Miss Warburton was taller than Eustacia by a good three or four inches, and she looked to be in her thirties. Her hair, neat and smooth beneath her plain straw bonnet was of an ordinary shade of light brown. Her eyes were also brown, and her features held nothing to displease, but nothing to catch the eye either. Altogether she was the kind of woman that one might easily pass in the street and instantly forget. This was Eustacia’s opinion, until the other woman smiled, whereupon her face was lit up with an expression of such sweetness that her appearance was instantly transformed to something that was very like beauty.

‘I’m sorry that I was not here to greet you, Miss Hope,’ said Miss Warburton. ‘I was doing a little visiting on Lady Agatha’s behalf.’

‘Visiting?’ echoed Eustacia.

‘I like to keep an eye on the parishioners,’ said her ladyship. ‘
Someone
has to do so, if there is no priest here.’ Then, before anyone could comment upon the connection between the lack of an incumbent and her refusal to quit the house, she said, ‘Take off your bonnet, Jessie, and ring for more tea. This is cold.’

‘I have already had tea with Mrs Swanage,’ Jessie replied, doing as she was bid. As she removed her head covering and walked to the bell, her movements were as smooth and gentle as the tone of her voice.

‘Tea with Mrs Swanage!’ exclaimed Lady Agatha in disgusted tones. ‘Cat’s wee with a wet hen!’

Eustacia coloured again at her godmother’s forceful language, for Lady Hope. despite her former connections with the stage, never expressed herself in unladylike terms. Jessie, who was
obviously
more used to it, simply smiled and enquired about the
visitor’s
journey.

‘It went very smoothly, thank you,’ Eustacia replied.

‘Until the last few minutes,’ her ladyship put in. ‘That insect Henry Lusty came again and I had to eject him.’

‘You do Mr Lusty a disservice,’ said Jessie calmly. ‘He is only doing what he believes to be right.’

‘Ha!’ ejaculated her ladyship. ‘He would not come here nearly so often if
you
were not here. Still, you’re better off entertaining his suit than sighing over Ashbourne, I suppose.’

Jessie coloured faintly, but made no response to this, simply enquiring for how long Eustacia was intending to stay. ‘I am not sure as yet,’ Eustacia told her, as Grimes came in with more tea. ‘For how long have you resided with my godmother, Miss Warburton?’

‘For the last eight years,’ Jessie answered. Eustacia was surprised. She had expected to hear that Lady Agatha’s companion had come to live at the vicarage on the death of the vicar.

‘Never mind that. It’s all past history,’ said Lady Agatha
dismissively
. ‘The main thing is that we now have reinforcements.’

‘Reinforcements?’ repeated Jessie and Eustacia, almost at the same time.

‘Yes indeed,’ responded Lady Agnes, smiling like a cat that had not only got the cream, but also knew from where to procure the next bowlful. ‘A young girl, all alone, jilted, penniless, and in
delicate
health: how could the church be so heartless as to throw her out?’

‘But I’m not alone and penniless, and I’ve already told you that my health is excellent,’ Eustacia protested, mystified.

‘Yes, but they don’t know that, do they?’ answered her godmother, still beaming.

 

Over the next few days, Eustacia frequently found herself
wondering
what her mother would have made of the situation in which her daughter found herself. Her intention in sending Eustacia to her godmother had been that she should be cared for at some distance away from the scene of her jilting, with all the scandal that that entailed. No doubt Lady Hope had anticipated that her daughter would benefit from the wise counsel of her old friend, the vicar’s widow. What Eustacia’s mother could never have expected was that the same vicar’s widow would seek to embroil her young guest in an intrigue which involved falsifying the
opinions
of a peer, deceiving ecclesiastical authorities as to the nature of her, Eustacia’s, circumstances, defrauding the church of its rightful property and denying the village the priest that it was
entitled
to have.

She recalled how Lady Agatha had visited them once when she, Eustacia, was only seventeen. She had taken her goddaughter to York and they had gone to an inn and, as there was no parlour, they had sat in the taproom. She remembered another occasion when Lady Agatha had taken her driving in the country. When they had found a secluded spot, her ladyship had taken out brandy and cigars. Eustacia had tried both and been vilely ill. In many ways, it was not surprising that a lady with such a capacity for plots and plans should still be plotting now.

It was odd, though, that at one moment, her ladyship seemed to be saying that they should keep quiet about Eustacia’s Unfortunate Experience, and at another that she should be advocating using
this sad circumstance as a weapon in her fight against the bishop. Part of her rejoiced at this piece of intrigue. At Woodfield Park they had always led a very quiet life. Most of the time, Eustacia did not mind. Sometimes, though, she thought of her mother’s
exciting
and slightly scandalous past, and wanted to have adventures of her own. This scheme of her godmother’s, surely harmless in its way, promised a little intrigue and excitement, if only for the short term.

How strangely things fell out, she thought. Her mother, the former actress, would always be tainted with immorality in many people’s eyes. Yet her mother was a pillar of the local community, a vigorous supporter of the church, and a fierce opponent of
falsehood
. Lady Agatha’s approach seemed rather entertaining in comparison.

There had been no further visits from the church authorities, and no correspondence from them either. On the other hand, a letter had arrived from another source that very morning which had brought to her ladyship’s face that self-satisfied smile with which Eustacia was beginning to be very familiar. ‘Ashbourne is still hell-raising in Italy,’ she had declared. ‘He will have no
interest
in my concerns.’

‘What if the bishop writes to him?’ Eustacia had ventured.

‘Ha! If anything arrives for him with the frank paid for by the bishop, he’ll throw it in the fire,’ her godmother had stated
positively
. ‘We’ll not see him here.’

Throughout this discourse, Miss Warburton had sat quietly in her place, buttering her toast with careful precision and cutting it into small, neat squares.

Now, although she had not finished, she stood up. ‘If you will excuse me, I think I will go to my room,’ she said in even tones.

‘Shall we go for a walk in a little while?’ Eustacia asked her. The two younger ladies had quickly formed the habit of walking together each day.

‘I shall be ready,’ Jessie replied, before leaving the room.

‘Poor Jessie,’ said Lady Agatha shaking her head. ‘I fear she has always had a weakness for my brother, but it would never do. A
rake like Ashbourne would never look her way. She’s not the kind of pretty slut that appeals to him at all. In reality, she wouldn’t like it above half if he did pay her any attention, although she’d never believe it if I told her so. Unfortunately, the alternative is no better in my opinion.’

‘What is the alternative?’ asked Eustacia curiously.

‘Henry Lusty, of course,’ her godmother replied scornfully. ‘You don’t think this business with the bishop is the only reason he calls, do you? If I thought he was really interested in her, I would encourage him tomorrow. Unfortunately, I suspect that he believes that by courting her, he will get a foot into this place. If you’ve finished your breakfast, you might as well go and find her. She seems to have taken to you.’

To Eustacia aged 22, Miss Warburton at 30 seemed venerable. The notion that this lady could at one and the same time be
smitten
by a rake and pursued by a curate was novel indeed. They had talked about all kinds of things as they had strolled about the village together, but their conversations had not encompassed either of these two gentlemen. The truth was that in Miss Warburton, Eustacia had discovered the kind confidante that she had not found in her godmother. Jessie’s gentle sympathy had drawn out the whole sorry story of Morrison’s desertion, and it had been about him and about Eustacia’s own life that they had talked.

Now, Eustacia felt guilty. She had poured all her troubles out to Jessie without ever wondering whether Jessie might have things that
she
wanted to talk about. Eustacia resolved that she would remedy the situation that very day. The essential thing would be to show herself ready to listen to Jessie’s problems without looking as if she was being vulgarly intrusive.

In the event, it was Jessie herself who raised the matter. ‘I suppose you must be wondering why I fled the breakfast-table this morning,’ she said.

‘It seemed to me that you left just after my godmother spoke about Lord Ashbourne,’ Eustacia replied. They were walking down the drive, making the most of the sunny day. Eustacia,
dressed as usual by Trixie, was in a dark pink gown, set off
handsomely
by dove grey gloves and kid boots, and a charming bonnet with pink flowers and pink and grey striped ribbons. Jessie, in a mustard-coloured gown with a plain bonnet, managed to look several years older than she really was.

‘You must think me such a fool,’ Jessie said, after they had walked along in silence for a short time.

‘Of course I don’t,’ replied Eustacia without hesitation. The other woman’s gentle kindness had won her heart almost from the very first. It made a welcome change to Lady Hope’s imperious conviction that she must know best for everyone, and Lady Agatha’s inclination to make use of other people quite shamelessly in order to further her schemes, and to discount any concerns that did not affect herself.

‘Well
I
do,’ Jessie replied frankly. ‘I have told myself time out of mind what a fool I am, but it does not seem to make any
difference
, I’m afraid.’

‘Have you known the family for long?’ Eustacia asked her.

Jessie nodded. ‘Mama and Lady Agatha were friends for years. My father was a squire with a small income, but he wasn’t very wise with his money, I fear. After he died, Mama and I were left without a home, so Lady Agatha persuaded Lord Ashbourne – the present Lord Ashbourne’s father – to provide us with a cottage on his estate and somehow we managed. Mama was ill for some years before she died, and I looked after her. Then after her death eight years ago, Lady Agatha invited me to come and live with her.’

‘Is Lord Ashbourne like his sister?’ Eustacia asked.

‘A little,’ replied Jessie.

‘Is he handsome?’

‘Yes, he’s very handsome,’ answered Jessie wearily. ‘Handsome and wicked and careless, and he’s never cast so much as a glance my way. Perhaps if I met him every day, I would get used to him. If I never saw him at all, that would be even better; but I see him just enough to keep him in my mind.’

‘Forgive me for asking,’ said Eustacia tentatively, ‘but surely Lord Ashbourne must be a married man.’

‘He is a widower,’ answered Jessie. ‘His wife died giving birth to his only son. Ilam was brought up chiefly by a local farmer’s family. Ashbourne has been kicking over the traces ever since. Mercifully his fortune is immense, or he would have run through it years ago.’

‘Have you never thought of anyone else?’ Eustacia asked
curiously
.

‘Not really,’ replied Jessie simply. ‘However, it may be that that situation could be on the point of changing.’

Eustacia remembered her godmother speaking about the curate, Henry Lusty. Could it be that Jessie was considering encouraging his suit?

By now, they were walking along the main street. Eustacia and Trixie had travelled the other way down it when they had first arrived in the village. Now, the two ladies strolled up the gentle incline. As they reached the gates of Illingham Hall, Jessie said impulsively, ‘Would you like to see Ashbourne’s portrait? There is one inside.’

‘Would it be allowed?’ Eustacia asked.

‘The housekeeper likes showing people around,’ Jessie told her.

‘What about Lord Ilam?’

‘He would not mind. In any case, he is from home.’

‘Is he gambling in Italy with his father?’ Eustacia asked,
remembering
her mother saying that he might be a rake as well.

‘Oh no,’ replied Jessie positively. ‘He and his father are not upon good terms. Shall we go in?’

Eustacia allowed herself to be persuaded. In truth, she was
feeling
rather curious about Lord Ashbourne. Her mother had warned her about this notorious rake before she had ever come here. Now, she had the chance to see him for herself.

The housekeeper, a thin, wiry-looking woman with iron-grey hair, obviously knew Miss Warburton very well, seemed to be
gratified
to meet Lady Agatha’s goddaughter, and was quite happy to permit the two ladies to make a tour of the house without her.

‘I won’t take you all the way round,’ said Jessie confidingly as they made their way up the stairs that led up from the hall. ‘I
expect Lady Agatha will want to do that. I would be grateful, however, if you will perhaps not mention today’s visit.’

‘Of course,’ Eustacia replied, as they climbed the stairs. Like the majority of the house, it was Elizabethan, and richly carved with vines and grapes, in the style of Grinling Gibbons. There was a sharp turn to the right at the top of the stairs, and Eustacia gasped with admiration, for she found herself standing at the end of a long gallery, with huge windows on one side, and bookcases which extended from floor to exquisitely painted ceiling on the other. The windows looked out onto a well kept old-fashioned parterre.

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