Miss Winbolt and the Fortune Hunter (7 page)

This time there was genuine warmth in his smile. ‘Shall we join the others?' he asked, offering her his arm. He led her unerringly out of the maze and together they walked back to join the rest of the party in the arbour.

They were watched by at least two interested parties as they came back. It has to be said that when Rosa and Lady Deardon saw Emily's heightened colour, and William's air of satisfaction, they exchanged a look which in less elegant ladies would have been called conspiratorial.

B
efore the afternoon ended it had been decided that all three Winbolts should visit Charlwood to view the gardens there. William warned them not to expect anything like the order and beauty of Shearings.

‘I have been concentrating my efforts on making the Dower House into a suitable home for my family,' he said. ‘The rest of the place still needs a lot of attention.'

‘Your family, Sir William?' said Rosa, with a quick glance at Emily.

‘I have two wards, Mrs Winbolt,' William explained. ‘They are at present in the West Indies waiting for a suitable passage, but I expect them soon.'

‘They will all stay with us at first,' said Lady Deardon, ‘but then the family will move into the Dower House as soon as it is ready. Later, of course, they will all live in Charlwood itself.'

‘I'm afraid that day is still some way off,' William said ruefully. ‘The work is going rather slowly. We seem
to have had more than our share of accidents. None of them has been serious, but they delay the work.'

‘I imagine there's a great deal to do. The house has been empty for so long, and I don't believe there was even been a care taker to look after it,' Philip said. ‘It's a pity. It was beautiful in its day.'

‘And it will be again. But it takes time and patience,' William said.

‘Not to mention money,' added Philip. ‘The house and land here at Shearings had been left in excel lent order, but I was surprised how expensive it was to restore the gardens. I don't envy you, Ashenden, with both to see to.'

‘But worth it,' William said briefly. ‘However, since I am just a simple Navy man, I must look to my neighbours for advice and help with the gardens. And from what I've seen today, I couldn't ask for anyone better to help me than you, Winbolt, and your two ladies. Do you think you could oblige me?'

‘Willingly,' said Rosa. ‘I'm sure we should love to do it. Quite soon. But tell me about your wards, Sir William. Two, you say? Are they…are they closely related to you?'

William turned to Rosa with a smile. It was a nice smile, but had a hint of something in it which probably only Emily saw. He's heard of Rosa's search for a husband for me, she thought, and he thinks she sees him as a possibility. But Rosa doesn't know that he would never think of asking me to be his wife—he still isn't sure whether or not I'm a hypocrite, a well-bred lady with the soul of a wanton. He might flirt with such a woman, kiss her, but he wouldn't want to marry her. As for me… I'm not looking for a husband, but even if I were he would be the last man I'd choose. After what
has happened, how could I ever be at ease with him? But she listened all the same with interest to his reply.

‘A niece and nephew, Mrs Winbolt. They are my brother's children and now, except for me, quite alone in the world. James, the boy, is eight, and Laura is just six.'

Rosa's tender heart was touched. ‘And they have no mother?' she asked.

‘No,' Lady Deardon said, and went on, ‘But they need one. All children do. I keep telling William that he must find a wife before very long.'

‘I intend to,' said her godson, ‘but that, too, takes time and patience.'

‘In that case you should start working at it as soon as possible,' said his god mother a little tartly. ‘Suitable wives don't simply fall from trees, William.'

‘Oh, I don't know,' said William with a smile. ‘Stranger things have happened.'

Emily jumped, threw him a look, and said hastily, ‘Talking of strange things, is it true that Lord Langley is selling his greys? I find that
very
strange. I can't imagine why he would, they are a splendid set of horses.'

She held her breath for a moment, wondering whether Rosa had seen the significance of William's words, but, much to her relief, her diversionary tactic appeared to have worked and the talk slipped into less dangerous channels until it was time for the visitors to go.

As he took his leave of her William said, ‘I hope I am to see you too at Charlwood next week, Miss Winbolt. I look forward to hearing what you will recommend.'

‘My brother and sister-in-law are the experts, Sir William. I don't think I have much to add to what they can tell you,' said Emily coolly.

‘You underestimate yourself. After our walk this
afternoon—and our most instructive talk—I am sure you will have a great many ideas.' He held her eyes as he said, ‘I shall see you next week, Miss Winbolt.'

 

At first Emily was annoyed and frustrated at this command of William's to come with her brother to Charlwood—for it was no less than a command, of that she was sure. She felt she could trust him not to betray her secret, but she had no desire to spend more time with him than she had to. He had seen a part of her nature, a passion, a strength of feeling, which no one else had ever even suspected, herself included, and she resented the hold this gave him over her.

Nevertheless, as the days went by she found to her surprise that her resentment was fading and she was even beginning to look forward to the visit. Indeed, she was surprised to find that she was happier than she had been for a long time, if only because life had become so much more interesting. After all, Sir William and she could now in fact meet on more or less equal terms. What had she to lose? She had nothing more to conceal, he knew the worst of her. She expected nothing from him except his silence. Though he might tease her, she could now be herself with him in a way that had been impossible before. And, if she was honest, she had to admit he had a quirky sense of humour which, in spite of herself, she found appealing.

 

When the day came even Rosa could not find fault with the way Emily was dressed. She was wearing one of her newest and prettiest dresses of pale apricot muslin, and over it a corded silk spencer in a deeper shade of the same colour. Her kid shoes and gloves, and her bonnet of Leghorn straw, were of the first elegance.
Her hair had been released from its severe knot to allow one or two curls to escape. The colour of her dress gave a soft glow to a complexion that was normally rather pale, and excitement gave her face animation. But Rosa would have been less pleased if she had been aware of her sister-in-law's motive for taking such pains with her appearance. She was not out to attract, but to impress. She had so far been at a disadvantage in every one of her encounters with William, but that was now about to change. She aimed to look every inch what she was—an elegant, well-born lady of some wealth, who could keep any man, including Sir William Ashenden, firmly in his place. It was purely coincidental that she was also looking her best.

The look of surprised admiration in William's eyes as he greeted them at Charlwood was very gratifying. Emily had half-expected one of his comments and braced herself, but his behaviour could not be faulted. He welcomed her as conventionally as he welcomed Rosa and Philip, and a little to her surprise said nothing to disturb her. Nor did he make any special effort to engage her in private conversation. On the surface at least, the owner of Charlwood was merely receiving three of his nearest neighbours for their first visit.

They went first to the Dower House, where he introduced them to the couple who lived over the stables there.

‘Mrs Lilley looks after this house for me, and her husband keeps an eye on the rest of the place, including Charlwood. Have you seen anything more of our intruders, Sam?'

‘No, sir, not today I haven't. I think they must have been frightened off.'

William turned to his guests. ‘Several intruders
have been seen in and around Charlwood recently. Sam says they must be vagrants—but there's no sign of any damage, is there, Sam?'

‘None that I could find, sir. But if you don't mind I'd like for my brother's lad to share the watch with me for a while. He's a strong, well-built boy, and he'd soon deal with anyone what oughtn't to be there. The house is too big for me to be every where at once. It'll only be for a short while till they fellows learn that Charlwood is being properly looked after again and they ain't welcome any more.'

‘Very good. See to it. And thank you.' William turned once again to his guests. ‘If you wish, I could show you a little of the main house before we start. One of the rooms has a view of the grounds, which will give you an idea of the basic plan. The house is still in a mess, but the way through to the salon at the back isn't as hazardous as it was. I'm afraid you would have to walk up the drive. It's too rough for the carriage.'

Philip said instantly, ‘I'm sure we could walk. I've heard so much about Charlwood. And I would very much like to see whatever you can show us. What about the ladies?'

As the ladies were both in complete agreement, they walked up to the house. Emily was still half-expecting William to present her with some sort of challenge, but his behaviour continued to be exemplary. They conducted a very civilised conversation about plans for the garden and nothing more. Of course, it was perfectly natural for him to offer her his arm and help her over the uneven ground. Philip did the same for Rosa. He even lifted her over a pile of stones from a broken wall that was blocking their path, but without comment. If she suspected that he held her fractionally longer and
perhaps a touch more firmly than was strictly necessary, she said nothing.

When they reached Charlwood, William led them care fully through a maze of half-finished woodwork and plaster to the back of the house. Here they found them selves in a large, beautifully proportioned room with tall windows along the back wall that led on to a wide terrace. Emily looked round. There was evidence every where of the ravages of time and neglect. The floor was littered with bits of plaster from the ceiling, which had once been white and gold, but was now a dirty grey. Torn strips of some sort of material hung down from the walls, and pictures and mirrors that had once hung against them were propped up on the floor. And yet the dust and debris could not disguise the elegance of the room's proportions, its light ness and grace. Resisting a strong desire to linger, Emily picked her way care fully through the mess, walked over to the windows and looked out at the view.

‘Why, it's perfect!' she exclaimed and paused, gazing at the symphony of colour outside.

The house was built on a slight rise over looking the valley, and from the windows could be seen meadows and woods gradually sloping up to a line of hills. The whole was a symphony of green, the soft green of the meadows and the bright greens of early summer in the woods beyond. And beyond them lay the blue haze of the downs. ‘This view alone would make any effort to restore the house well worth it,' she said impulsively, turning round to the room. William pulled a face. ‘Have you looked nearer to hand?' he asked, coming to join her.

It was true that the view nearer the house was not so attractive. A wilderness of weeds, over grown bushes
and trees was threatening to take over from what had been a formal garden. A broken statue covered in ivy and other creepers and surrounded by thorns stood forlornly in an untidy circle of stones, which had once held a pool. But Emily was not put off.

‘Philip! The fountain is just like the one we have at Shearings.'

William laughed out loud. ‘What an imagination you have, Miss Winbolt. I can't see any resemblance whatever.'

‘Oh, but I do! You must look below the surface chaos, Sir William. That statue, once restored, would be as lovely as any we have. It is so right for its setting that the fountain must have been laid out when the house was first built. And it is obviously original. I hope you realise how lucky you are. And…is that the remains of an avenue beyond? Does it lead to a folly? A summerhouse, perhaps?' She turned back to him eagerly. ‘Sir William, you must restore it all! The fountain would not be difficult—I am sure you'll find there's a stream nearby to feed it. And look at those urns—they are perfectly placed to carry the eye out beyond the lawns!'

Emily had always been the creative mind in schemes for Shearings's gardens, and the potential of these gardens of Charlwood had set her imagination alight. In her pleasure and eager ness she was a different person, quite for get ting her normal reserve.

For a moment William studied the animated face turned up to his, his expression difficult to read. Then he raised one eyebrow and said quizzically, ‘You don't think the urns are, shall we say, a touch randomly posed, then? To me they look rather like the local lads outside the inn at the end of a hard day.'

They both regarded the urns. True, they were sym
metrically placed at intervals round the edge of the lawns, but not one of them was vertical. Half were leaning drunkenly to one side or the other, and the pedestals of the rest had sunk and were half-buried in the earth. Viewed objectively, they were a sorry sight.

Emily could not help herself. A smile appeared first, then she laughed. ‘You are quite right, of course. I can easily imagine Job Diment and Will Darby looking as tipsy. But I suspect the urns are still fairly un dam aged. May I take a closer look at them?'

‘We can have a look at the garden as soon as you feel you have finished here. Seeing more of the house would be better left to later. Parts of it are still too dangerous. We shall even have to go out the way we came—the other doors are all blocked at present.'

‘Because of the danger?' asked Philip

‘Mostly. But also because of the intruders I mentioned. It's easier to keep a watch for them if there's only one entrance.'

‘What are they looking for? Do you know?'

‘They could well be seeking shelter here. I can't imagine why else anyone would be interested.'

They returned through the hall and round to the back of the house, which lay in bright sunshine. Rosa eyed the tangle of vegetation in front of them somewhat doubtfully, and when she saw a bench nearby which was still in reasonable condition she spread her shawl over the seat, sat down and firmly announced, ‘I shall have walked enough by the time we are back at the Dower House, Sir William. I shall be very happy to sit here for a while and enjoy the warmth of the sun while the rest of you make your way through that…jungle.'