Sally James (16 page)

Mary explained. “Was Mrs Standish greatly hurt?”

“Not really, but I understand from Mrs Leigh that she is so annoyed that she is determined to go away from Bath for a few days, to have peace and quiet to calm her overset nerves, she says. I believe she plans to visit a friend who lives in Gloucestershire.”

“Did she make any reference to having been pushed? Could she fear it?”

“Mrs Leigh did not say anything to give me that notion.”

Mary explained Teresa’s suspicions, and Caroline shook her head.

“The girl is nonsensical.”

“If Mrs Standish feared she was in danger, it would explain her wish to get away.”

“It seems most unlikely. Poor Mary, your drive ruined, and having to deal with an hysterical Teresa into the bargain! Never mind, no doubt Sir Ingram will repeat his invitation.”

“Teresa advised me that it would be wise to avoid him,” Mary said with a slight laugh. “I am likely to be his next victim, in her view.”

Caroline chuckled. “Not of murder, I would have thought.”

“What do you mean now?”

Caroline smiled enigmatically. “When did Mr Knowle say he proposed to visit Bath?” she asked.

Mary blinked. “Mr Knowle?” Then she recalled she had promised an answer to that faithful lover, and blushed, for she had continuously pushed the unwelcome decision to the back of her mind.

“I believe you have forgotten all about the man,” Caroline challenged her.

“Well, this morning rather a lot has been happening,” Mary excused herself. “Oh dear, he comes tomorrow! And I still have not made up my mind!”

“There is not a great deal of time left then,” Caroline said, and laughed when Mary said that indeed she would have to hurry, but refused to explain the reason for her laughter.

Chapter 9

At that moment Susan came in with the letters. Caroline retired to her bedchamber to read the one from Arthur, and Mary sat down with one from her father. He was a poor correspondent, and she had not expected another letter from him for some time. Then the thought occurred to her that he might be unwell, or planning to return to Appleacre and the letter was a summons home. Swiftly she broke the seals and unfolded the single sheet.

Mr Wyndham began by saying how interesting he found Oxford, and Mary breathed a sigh of relief that at least he was well. Then, after digressing about Mary’s visit to Bath he suddenly changed the subject.

“As you are now so well provided for, my dear child, I feel free at last to do what I have for long had in mind, delaying only because you gave me consolation for the loss of your dear mother, and because you had not yet found a home of your own to go to. That latter consideration at least no longer applies, and I have arranged with my friend Mr Drake that I will sell the house at Appleacre and come to join him here at Oxford. When all the details of your approaching marriage are settled, and naturally you will wish to be married from our home, my plans can be made. I will hold myself ready to return home whenever it is convenient to you, but of course Mrs Grafton’s treatment must be completed first, and I know you will not care to desert her. It only remains for me to wish you every happiness, and the joy that your dear mother and I found together. I know you will not have your head turned if I tell you that he is the most fortunate man alive to have won your love.”

There was more, but Mary hardly took it in, for it was about his doings at Oxford. What had led him to write in such a fashion, she wondered distractedly. Had Mr Knowle allowed him to believe she had accepted him? If so that was an impertinence on Mr Knowle’s part, and Mary grew angry at the thought, and determined she would let him know what she thought of such presumption.

It was then she recalled what her father had said about wishing for a long time to settle in Oxford. It was ironic she had been protesting to Caroline that her father needed her, when all the time, it seemed, he had been patiently waiting for her to find herself a husband so that he could retreat to join his old friends. Why had he never told her this was his wish, she wondered, and then realised he might have feared that if she had known she would have taken the first opportunity of marriage so as to allow him his freedom.

A sudden bleakness descended on her as she realised the implications. Her father was pleased, not only for her but because he could change his way of life. If she refused Mr Knowle after all it would destroy his happiness, and her father might never find it possible to retire to Oxford, for that would depend on whether she found a husband.

“I shall have to accept him,” she whispered to herself, admitting at last that she did not in the least wish to do so. Trying to be calm and think rationally about it, she asked herself why this decision, forced on her in such a way, should cause her such distress when she had been half prepared to make it for herself a few days before.

“I like Mr Knowle, and have known him for a long time, and we
are
friends,” she told herself slowly. “Is love so important? Is it as he says, that it will come? Yet Caroline disagrees with him, and she knows what it is to marry the man she loves.”

Her argument with herself went on for a long time, returning always to the fact that she did not love Mr Knowle in the way she felt she would want to love the man she proposed to marry.

“But this is ridiculous!” she said eventually, rising impatiently from the chair where she had been sitting. “I have no choice and
must
accept him! There is no alternative if papa is not to be disappointed, and that must not be! I do like Mr Knowle, and must do as he says and trust him, and there is no purpose in thinking any more about it!”

So decided, she walked quickly to where the writing desk stood and opened it with the intention of penning a note to her father, but at that moment Caroline walked back into the room.

“What is amiss?” she asked in quick concern as she saw Mary’s worried expression. “Is it your father? Is he ill?”

“No, he is well, but you had best read this,” she said slowly, offering her friend the letter.

Caroline was not certain whether to be amused or worried at the dilemma in which Mary found herself.

“And you have been saying for years that you could not leave your father, and discouraging any man who showed the slightest interest in you, while all the time he has been patiently wishing you married,” she said indignantly. “But you do not have to allow this to influence you with regard to Mr Knowle,” she added quickly. “You will always be welcome to make your home with us!”

“Caroline, I could not!” Mary protested, overwhelmed at this generosity.

“Well, I might not offer it if I thought you would be there for years,” Caroline chuckled. “I know I would lose you in a few months!”

“Yes, when in despair I accepted Mr Knowle after all - if he would wait so long,” Mary retorted, refusing to consider any other implication in Caroline’s remarks. “You have told me often enough that I have been unfair to him, refusing to give him a definite answer, and now I have decided you try to persuade me to keep him waiting for yet longer!”

“But it is the wrong answer!” Caroline almost wailed. “Oh, why did Teresa have to come rushing to you! Wretched girl!”

Reminded of the events of the morning, Mary became grave.

“I do not see how that has anything to do with it!” she said shortly. “The poor girl must have been terrified. She was hysterical with the shock of what happened. I think I will send round a note to ask if there is any more I can do. Possibly Mrs Leigh would like me to visit her this evening if she still feels low.”

She did this, and a reply was brought back to thank her, but Mrs Leigh did not need her assistance. Teresa was still most distressed at the death of her parrot, but seemed to have overcome her fears, with the help, Mrs Leigh added, of a visit from Mr Wyndham that seemed to do her a great deal of good. Indeed, she had asked for a dose of laudanum, and said she intended to retire early, hoping to sleep for a long time to recover from the shock.

Relieved that Teresa seemed to be behaving sensibly, Mary allowed Caroline to bully her into attending a small party they had been invited to that evening. She had been intending to remain at home, resolving on her answer to Mr Knowle, but after her father’s letter there was little she could do other than accept him, and she agreed to go with Caroline, hoping it would take her mind off what she knew was an unwelcome decision.

The party was at a house belonging to some friends of Mrs Wright, and Mary had met them only once. When she and Caroline reached the house, they discovered the Wrights were almost the only people they knew well, although they had been introduced briefly to some of the others and had seen yet more about the town, or in the Pump Room, where all the visitors to Bath were to be found at some time.

In new company Mary was able to relax, and in the interest of talking with comparative strangers she forgot her own troubles. Caroline grinned at her appreciatively when she heard one of the young men asking Mary to walk with him in Spring Gardens on the following morning.

“Mr Knowle is not the only man who is attracted to you, you see,” she pointed out with a laugh as they made their way home. “Did you accept his invitation?”

“How could I when I am expecting Mr Knowle to call?” Mary asked, a trifle sharply.

“Oh, Mary, you do not have to accept him!” Caroline cried, but Mary would not give her friend the satisfaction of taking her advice.

“I must. I will in the end, I know, so why not now? In any event, I have promised him an answer, and the poor man deserves some consideration. He has been most patient.”

Reluctantly Caroline ceased her arguments, but as they parted for the night muttered gloomily that Mary would bitterly regret her decision. Mary wondered whether that were true, but realised there could be no turning back now. It was too late for that. Mr Knowle would be with her by the middle of the next morning, and would expect her answer straight away.

They ate breakfast in a sombre mood, for Caroline had accepted the futility of further argument, and yet could not bring herself to wish her friend well. Consequently when Susan appeared and handed Mary a note, apologising that she had forgotten it earlier, Caroline vented her annoyance on the girl by speaking sharply.

“When did it come?”

“Last night, Ma’am, after you’d gone out.”

“And you did not give it to us last night? How is that?”      

“I’m sorry, Ma’am, reely I am, but you said not to wait up, and I put it to one side and forgot all about it till this minute!”

Caroline happened to glance at Mary then, and sprang up in alarm.

“Go away,” she ordered Susan, and scarcely was the frightened maid out of the room before Caroline was kneeling beside her friend, holding her hand and asking what was amiss.

“You are so pale,” she said, when Mary turned blank eyes towards her. “What is it?”

Mary’s colour flooded back, and she rose angrily to her feet.

“The fools! The utter fools! Teresa was planning this when she asked for the laudanum, no doubt! To throw us all off the scent for a few hours! She and my precious brother have eloped again, and this is from Matthew!”

She held the note out to Caroline, but before Caroline could take it drew it back and began to read out parts of it.

“ ‘Teresa is afraid for her life,’ well, that is clear, and she has reason to be, but listen to this! ‘She thought you her friend, but realises now that after your treatment of her earlier, when you used physical force to browbeat her at a time when she needed sympathy and tenderness, she can no longer rely on your friendship.’ In heaven’s name, what would he have me do when she was in a frenzy of hysteria? I hope he has to deal with her in such a state, and then he’ll see how far tenderness will get him!” she said viciously. “Now I understand how it was Sir Ingram was accused of beating her!”

“Thank you,” came a suave voice from behind her, and she swung round to find Sir Ingram smiling down at her. “I only wish her other accusations could be disproved so easily!”

“How - how did you get in?” Mary gasped.

“I walked in,” he replied calmly. “The maid seemed unwilling to announce me, and so, time being at something of a premium, I declined to stand upon ceremony and announced myself. You have heard, I take it?”

Mary waved the note at him. “From Matthew,” she explained tersely. “Where will they have gone? Did Teresa leave any indication?”

“She said, most helpfully, that they were taking ship at Bristol with France as their destination. That I take to mean that they are heading for Scotland!”

Caroline gave a sudden choke of laughter. “Then you had best set off after them,” she advised. “That is, if you mean to make a push to bring them back.”

“I do,” Sir Ingram replied grimly. “I came to ask you, Miss Wyndham, to accompany me, first because I know you have some influence with both my cousin and your brother, but also because, if we overtake them, it will enable us to protect them from their folly by chaperoning them adequately.”

“So now I
have
influence, do I?” Mary demanded furiously. “
Now
I can be used as a chaperone? Do you know, I think I shall wish them good luck! At least Teresa will be free of attacks on her life when she is married and away from Bath!”

So saying, Mary sat down and stared defiantly at Sir Ingram. He took a couple of steps towards her, his look thunderous.

“Heaven preserve me from obstinate women!” he ejaculated. “Are you still nourishing the illusion that I want to murder my cousin for her paltry few thousands? By God, I
could
murder her at times, but not for such a reason, believe me! She is still in danger, even more so with her marriage intended! The man who wants to get rid of her may even yet be following her, and he’ll have a far better prospect of succeeding when she is on a journey, protected only by that mutton headed brother of yours!”

“You don’t seem to have made a very good job of protecting her yourself,” Mary retorted, but with a little less conviction in her voice.

“Because I was handicapped by not knowing how it could benefit him, and did not realise one fact. Now I am certain, but if you do not come soon we shall be too late to protect her life or her reputation. Do I have to carry you out to my curricle?”