Nell (5 page)

As if he read her thought, the culprit threw a sheepish grin across the table. ‘I had best hold my tongue before
Eden takes it into his head to eject me from these hallowed walls.’

It was too much! Nell erupted. ‘Indeed, I wonder that he does not, sir! Since it is apparent that Lord Jarrow is not overfond of the place himself, it might be kinder in you to refrain from poking fun at circumstances that are clearly beyond his control.’

There was a brief instant of silence. Then Mr Beresford broke into a shout of laughter. ‘You’ve a new champion, Eden. Spoken like a true governess, ma’am!’

But Nell was listening to the echo of her own words in her mind with growing dismay. Without volition, her eyes strayed towards the head of the table. Lord Jarrow was watching her with an unreadable expression. Was that an ironic gleam in his eye? Recalling the way she had spoken to him earlier, Nell could not in all honesty blame him. Involuntarily, she smiled.

‘You must be wishing me at Jericho, my lord. I see that I have been too used to speak my mind to be capable of minding my tongue. I shall do my best to mend, I promise you.’

Unexpectedly, he grinned. ‘Don’t. I like it. Besides, I thought I had explained that we have dispensed with formality.’

‘And a good job too!’ came irrepressibly from his brother-in-law. ‘It would be a great deal too bad if we were obliged to add ceremony to the tortures we endure in this abominable hole.’

Exasperated, Nell turned on him again. ‘Then why in the world do you stay, sir? I refuse to believe that his lordship holds you here against your will.’

Lord Jarrow broke in before the other man could answer. ‘Far from it. But you do not perfectly understand, my dear Miss Faraday. My respected brother-in-law has
not a feather to fly with, and, much as he loathes it, this abode is better than none.’

Nell could scarce prevent herself from wincing as Mr Beresford responded with another bout of hearty laughter, that eerie wide-eyed stare prominent. It struck her suddenly that his amusement was feigned. Why he should be at pains to pretend left her at a loss. Although he took his host’s words in good part.

‘Perfectly true, old fellow. No notion how I’d manage if I didn’t batten on you.’

He took up his wine glass again and drank deep. Nell wondered whether she ought to apologise for taking him to task. She looked to Lord Jarrow again and found that he was engaged in a low-voiced conversation with his butler. A hissing sound from across the table drew her attention. Toly Beresford was leaning towards her. He signalled a wish that she should come closer. Intrigued, Nell leant forward.

But before he could speak, a sudden shrieking broke into the silence. Nell jumped and dropped her fork. The noise was muted, but there could be no doubt that it emanated from within the castle, and close at hand. It sounded like a fury at full sail, repetitive and urgent. A curse was drawn from Lord Jarrow.

‘Hell and the devil!’

He laid down his utensils and rose quickly, brushing past the butler towards the door. Nell turned her startled glance upon Mr Beresford in mute question.

He threw his eyes heavenwards. ‘Your charge, I believe.’

Hastily getting to her feet, Nell made to follow her employer. He already had the door open, and the immediate crescendo of the shrieks threw Nell’s heart into
her mouth. Lord Jarrow paused when he saw her, looking back. His voice was sharp.

‘Stay where you are! I will not be long.’

Nell hesitated, but Keston settled the matter by closing the door behind him. She listened in a good deal of dismay to the continued emanation of the distressing cries.

‘If you take my advice, you will sit down again, Miss Faraday. Nothing you can do.’

She turned, utterly discomposed, to find Mr Beresford had come around the table and was once more holding her chair. Unable to think what else to do, Nell returned to it, taking her seat in a bemused fashion. She supposed that he and the butler were too used to such happenings to be troubled by them. She looked at her plate, where the remains of her meal lay congealing. Her appetite deserted her.

She glanced towards Keston, who was busying himself in clearing dishes from the table to the sideboard, presumably in preparation for the remove to the second course. Nell found a glass of wine in her hand and discovered that Mr Beresford had put it there, having refilled it from the decanter.

He smiled as he moved back to his own seat. ‘No need to look so distressed. She’ll stop in a moment.’

Nell frowned across at him. ‘Does this happen often?’

‘Oh, yes.’ He took up his knife and fork again. For all his complaints, he was making a hearty meal. ‘Regular little madam is Henrietta, if she don’t get her own way. You’ll get used to it.’

Did he not know then of Lord Jarrow’s fears? Surely he must. If there truly were signs of insanity, no member of such a close household could possibly be unaware of them. She eyed him uncertainly and surprised a look of sympathy in his face. He shook his head.

‘Poor old fellow. Don’t like to say it to his face, but you can see now why I remain. It’s what I was about to say to you when Hetty started her yowling. Positively inhuman to leave Jarrow alone at such a time.’ He grinned brightly. ‘You’d written me down as unfeeling, Miss Faraday, now hadn’t you? I do it to tease him, y’know. Keep him from brooding.’

Nell pounced. ‘Why should he brood, sir?’

He looked taken aback, but she kept her eyes on his face. ‘Don’t you know? Gad, you must do, ma’am. Can’t have escaped your notice that we’re both in mourning.’

She was disconcerted. ‘That, no.’ On impulse, she shifted her plate to one side and leaned forward. ‘How long ago did she die, sir?’

‘M’sister? Oh, must be seven or eight months now. Lose track, y’know. Every day the same.’ He frowned as if in thought. ‘Let’s see. September ’95 it was. Seven months, isn’t it? Yes, seven. And young Hetty turned six in February, which is what started Eden off on the idea of getting her a governess.’

Which drew Nell’s attention back to the cries yet to be heard, even through the thick walls of the castle. Her nerves had settled, however, and she was able to listen without flinching inside. Only she knew that she could not endure to hear it and be forced to sit inactive. Not for long. Even now she itched to run to the child’s rescue, convinced that she would find a means to help.

No, she must not allow pride to rule her. Those in the household could not but know better than she how to allay whatever distress had been stimulated. Her gaze focused again on Mr Beresford, now calmly sipping his wine, having evidently eaten his fill. Could she with propriety pump him for that information which Lord Jarrow refused to give her? She glanced at the butler, who was
snuffing candles, which had begun to gutter in the holder on the sideboard. He was elderly, and hopefully would not hear her. She leaned a little across the table again.

‘Mr Beresford.’ Was that a start he gave? His mind had evidently been elsewhere. ‘How often does this sort of thing happen?’

‘You mean Hetty?’ He shook his head vaguely. ‘Now and then, y’know. Once or twice in a month, I suppose. Perhaps more. So used to it that I can’t properly recall.’

‘What is there besides tantrums?’

Mr Beresford stared at her, a frown gathering at his brow. ‘What else?’ Then he struck a hand to his forehead. ‘I see what you’re getting at! Eden mentioned that, did he? No, no, my brother’s mistaken, ma’am. What else is to be expected of a little girl who has lost her mother? Perfectly understandable, and so I keep telling him. Can’t suppose it possible that the poor mite has inherited the fatal Beresford tendency. Why, I myself am perfectly free of the taint. And as for Julietta…’

His voice died, and he shifted into a reverie. Reluctant to disturb those memories that she might inadvertently have evoked with her questions, Nell watched him in a good deal of distress. The fatal Beresford tendency! Free of the
taint
? Heaven help her, there was some substance for Lord Jarrow’s fears.

Even as she thought it, she became aware that the shrieking had ceased. How had it been managed? She recalled something her employer had said to her earlier, about the nurse only calling him if she could not manage on her own. Only she had not called him. He had chosen to go immediately upon the sound breaking out. Forgetting her resolve, she addressed Mr Beresford in urgent tones.

‘You think Henrietta is merely expressing her grief?
Has no one sought to talk to her of her mama? Is it she whom you meant by Julietta?’

He regarded her as if he had not understood. ‘Julietta? Talk of her to the child? No, no—what could you say? Too horrific by half! Frighten the girl into flinders, and for what? Best to say nothing. If you take my advice, ma’am, you’ll leave well alone on that score.’

Before Nell could think how to reply to a speech that hinted at unknown horrors while giving nothing away, Lord Jarrow was re-entering the room. In silence, she watched him resume his seat. Was it the duller candlelight, or did he look worn?

‘Settled again, has she?’ enquired Mr Beresford sympathetically.

‘She is half asleep.’

‘Capital. Best thing for her. Duggan tends her, I expect?’

Was that a narrow look Lord Jarrow gave him as he nodded? Or was she indulging her imagination again? She stiffened warily as his gaze came around to herself. His voice was curt.

‘I am sorry this should have happened on your first evening.’

Irrationally, this remark annoyed Nell. It was not as if she were a guest.

‘It is as well, sir. I only wish you might be more forthcoming about what has occurred.’

‘Time enough for you to find out.’

Nell resented the snap in his voice, but reminded herself that she had no right to do so. It was best that she made no reply if she could not school herself to talk to him with propriety. She was saved the trouble by the laughing intervention of Mr Beresford, once more adopting the teasing tone of his earlier remarks.

‘Plain as a pikestaff why he won’t talk, Miss Faraday. He’s in hopes that ignorance may induce you to remain above a few days.’ That irritating laugh came again.

‘Can’t blame the old fellow if he don’t want to put you off.’

It was obvious that Lord Jarrow was in no humour for this type of thing. He threw his brother-in-law a look that caused Nell’s conscience to wriggle. It was not her place to be discussing her employer’s affairs. She’d had no business to ask questions of Mr Beresford. As well as gossip outright!

To make things worse, the wretched man chose to take his lordship up.

‘I see what it is, Eden. Jealousy! While you’ve been off beating that brat into silence, I’ve been privileged to enjoy the sole company of the first interesting female to grace this disgracefully Gothic edifice of yours in months.’

Nell heard only vaguely the rest of this nonsensical speech, for her attention had caught fatally on that one horrible word. Lord Jarrow
beat
his daughter? He could not have done so. Particularly if he suspected that her intellect was disordered. As well send the poor child to Bedlam!

She became aware of his voice, clipped and cynical.

‘If you have designs upon the new governess, Toly, you had better leave. It must be terrifying enough for Miss Faraday without having her virtue endangered.’

The other’s eyes glinted. ‘What, and leave you the field? I think not, old fellow.’

Nell met Lord Jarrow’s icy gaze as it returned to rest on her face. ‘I beg you will ignore my brother-in-law. His notion of banter leaves a good deal to be desired.’ Turning back to the other man, his tone became acid.
‘As for you, Toly, I wish you will hold your tongue before you give Miss Faraday an entirely false impression of my character as well as your own.’

Contrary to Nell’s expectation, she woke in the morning feeling considerably refreshed. It had been long before she had slept, the events of the few hours she had spent in Castle Jarrow travelling round and round in her brain. On the other hand, she had gone to bed exceptionally early, driven thence by the constraint that had reigned throughout the remainder of dinner.

Even Mr Beresford’s determined gaiety had worn thin at last. After the second course had made its appearance, beyond a few jovial remarks upon its content, he had lapsed for the most part into silence. He had stigmatised as meagre a spread of tarts, coddled apples and a selection of fresh fruits augmented by a syllabub, commenting that Mrs Whyte must have swiftly whipped up the syllabub in Nell’s honour.

Unwilling to cause further dissension, Nell had dutifully laughed, feeling all the hollowness of putting on a false front. Lord Jarrow had made no attempt to engage in any further conversation. Instead, he had sat in a brown study, eating nothing more, and staring in a vague way at the fruit bowl.

Nell had forced down most of the syllabub and toyed with a slice of tart. Prudence had soon dictated a swift retreat. When she had risen to leave, his lordship’s gaze had jerked up abruptly.

‘Where are you going?’

‘To bed, sir, with your permission. I am very tired.’

Mr Beresford had reached for the decanter, raising a last grin. ‘Should think you would be. Don’t forget to lock your door!’

Nell had frowned. ‘For what reason, pray?’

Lord Jarrow, who had risen politely, had intervened, impatience in his voice. ‘No reason at all. No one will disturb you. But by all means lock it if you choose.’

To her annoyance, Nell had been rendered apprehensive by the exchange. She had said a brief goodnight and made for the door. Her employer had stepped out to detain her. Taking up the larger of the two candelabra, he had held it out.

‘Take this. Tomorrow Mrs Whyte will give you a supply of candles and some holders.’ He had hesitated, the brown gaze searching her face. ‘Shall I escort you?’

Nell had shaken her head. ‘I will be obliged to find my own way about, sir. I may as well begin now.’

In truth, the eerie darkness of the passages had done little for her peace of mind. She’d been glad of the five candles that spilled light in all directions about her. But there had been no difficulty in finding her way. She had indeed felt excessively tired by the time she had dropped into bed, but her ruminations had kept sleep at bay.