Sally James (9 page)

'You take too much for granted! I will never marry you,' Isabella cried and then, fighting down the tears of mingled fury and humiliation, thrust her way past William and fled towards the house.

Chapter Five

Isabella had regained her composure by the time she reached the house, and was able to blame the oppressive heat both for her high colour and retreat from the grounds. Sir Frederick was enchanted, firmly believing she had deliberately sought him out, and Isabella ruefully chastised herself for not having foreseen this. She endured the rest of the visit as best she might, and attempted to discourage Sir Frederick when, on parting, he suggested driving over to Woodings on the following day.

'I am not certain I will be at home,' she explained, and Georgiana, who was sitting next to her, looked at her in surprise.

'Why? What has been planned? Mama did not say anything to me.'

'I must do some shopping one day soon,' Isabella said desperately. 'I want to drive into Lewes one morning.'

'Permit me to escort you,' Sir Frederick said immediately. 'At what time shall I call for you?'

'No! I beg of you. I cannot be certain of going tomorrow. Fanny – Lady Sharman might need me.'

'I can do anything Mama wants,' the too-helpful Georgiana volunteered.

'And if it is that you cannot go, then I shall have the pleasure of seeing you twice,' Sir Frederick said with heavy gallantry.

Isabella sighed inwardly. Having failed to dissuade him, she realised the sooner she complied with his suggestion the better. Then when he renewed his offer, which it was clear he intended to do, she could make it perfectly clear to him that his attentions were unwelcome. There was no more she could say now, and with a bleak smile she muttered some indistinguishable words and turned to thank Lady Fordington for her hospitality.

'You must ride home quickly, there are storm clouds coming up,' Lady Fordington said as they waited on the front steps for the grooms to bring round the horses.

'Until tomorrow,' Sir Frederick said meaningfully, clasping Isabella's hand for longer than she thought necessary. She turned from him and found Lord Fordington at her side, eyeing her with a curious expression in his eyes. His glance flickered to Sir Frederick and back again, and Isabella read contempt in it, and writhed inwardly, sure he must consider her either a heartless flirt or a determined husband-hunter.

William was silent on the way home, but since Lydia and Georgiana were full of the splendours of the ruins and the stories they had heard, neither his moroseness nor Isabella's abstraction caused comment.

The threatened storm passed over and when they reached Woodings Isabella pleaded a headache which enabled her to escape to her room until dinner time. Then she discovered William had gone to visit a friend, and by the time they met on the following morning she had decided the most dignified way of behaving would be to ignore his treatment of her, while avoiding being alone with him if she could. She wanted neither his apologies nor renewed protestations of love.

Georgiana had told her mother of Sir Frederick's intended visit, and although Lady Sharman was feeling unwell that day she remained in the drawing room, feeling it her duty to receive him should he call. When he duly appeared and asked for permission to escort Isabella to Lewes she willingly granted it. Despite her anxiety to get over the ordeal she anticipated, Isabella shook her head.

'You are far from well, Fanny, and I ought to remain with you.'

'Nonsense, my dear, I shall be perfectly comfortable sitting here quietly. Georgiana can do all I wish. The weather holds as yet, but by tomorrow it might be too wet to venture out.'

Reluctantly Isabella fetched her pelisse, a light-blue one that matched her gown, and permitted Sir Frederick to hand her into his curricle. Georgiana waved farewell and went back to her mother.

* * * *

'Thank heavens he has gone!' Lady Sharman exclaimed. 'I must lie down. Pray help me to my room, my dear, and fetch me a glass of cordial.'

Georgiana attended to her mother, who soon began to doze. Then Georgiana wandered about the house, wishing she had arranged for Lydia and Diana to come to Woodings. Even William's company would have been welcome, but he had vanished somewhere with Sir Roderick. There was little hope of a visit from Lord Fordington or Ninian, for they had both said they were going to Brighthelmstone that day.

An hour later Lady Sharman appeared to be sleeping deeply. Her elderly maid, Daisy, crossly told Georgiana not to keep disturbing her ladyship by poking her head round the door so often, for she was perfectly capable of doing all that was needed if and when her ladyship awoke. Feeling unwanted, Georgiana determined to go for a ride.

Prince's fetlock was still not healed and Georgiana stood considering which horse to take. She disdained the ancient old pony her mother occasionally rode and the unexciting mount Sir Roderick provided for Isabella. Yesterday she had complained about the sluggish nature of the beast she had ridden, but there were few others in the stables. Suddenly she realised William had taken his old horse, not the new, highly bred one he had just purchased.

'I'll have Arrow, Reuben,' she told the elderly groom.

'Why, Miss Georgiana, you darsn't,' the old man quavered.

'Why on earth not? He's used to side saddle, William told me the wife of the man he brought Arrow from frequently rode him.'

'He's too strong for 'ee, missee,' the groom pleaded, but Georgiana laughed.

'Nonsense! I was with William yesterday when he was riding Arrow, and he was perfectly behaved.'

'Ar, when 'e knows 'oo's master! Mr William would never forgive me.'

'I'll take all responsibility. Saddle Arrow for me!'

The old man shrugged. Miss Georgiana had always had her own way and he knew she was an excellent rider. He did not really think she would come to grief, being more concerned over William's reaction at his beloved Arrow being ridden by someone else. And he could scarcely defy Georgiana. Grumpily he saddled the horse and led him out of the stable.

'By rights I ought to come with 'ee, Miss Georgiana,' he said, 'but there's no one else here, Jake has taken the carriage horses to the smithy and young Ned has gone with the master.'

'I don't need anyone, Reuben, and I have often ridden alone. I prefer it.'

She mounted, and although Arrow pranced playfully she quickly brought him under control, and Reuben had to be satisfied as she trotted the horse out of the yard, curbing with apparent ease his desire to break into a canter.

Georgiana rode up onto the downs and let Arrow have his head, then reined in, laughing, and looked about her. She had ridden in the direction of Brighthelmstone and she realised Priory Dene lay only a few miles away. The urge to see again from the downs the ruins they had explored yesterday came to her and she rode on, more slowly now that Arrow had shaken the fidgets out of his legs.

From the spot high on the downs where Priory Dene was visible Georgiana reined in and looked at the ruins with interest. It was much too far away to see details clearly, but she could now trace the line of the cloister and see the darker spot where the door between the walls barred the entrance to the cellars. As she looked she thought she saw a movement, and then a flash of white in the patch of shadow, but although she strained her eyes she saw nothing else and decided she must have been mistaken. A strong breeze had risen, a thick bank of cloud was sweeping in from the south and Arrow was becoming restive. He laid back his ears and pranced uneasily, trying to turn his head and look at Georgiana as if to ask her what she was about. She patted his neck reassuringly and decided she would ride down to the toll road for the journey home. She was about half a mile away from it when the breeze dropped as suddenly as it had risen and the storm clouds, now directly overhead, opened to pour vast quantities of rain on Georgiana's head. Arrow, who obviously disliked the wetness as much as she did, responded eagerly to her heel and increased his pace, fighting with the bit when she tried to slow him down to negotiate the steep drop into a narrow lane that led onto the post road. He slipped on some loose stones and they slithered down the bank, but miraculously Arrow retained a foothold and immediately picked up speed again and cantered towards the post road.

A stage-coach was rumbling along the road ahead, and peering through the driving rain Georgiana saw the vast bulk of it bearing down on her. Afraid Arrow would run blindly out into the road she hauled on the reins, and at that moment a terrifyingly loud clap of thunder came, at the same time as a blinding flash of lightning which lit up the sky ahead and silhouetted the trees and the distant spire of a church.

Arrow reared and when Georgiana clung determinedly to the pommel, loosening her grip on the reins as she did so, he bolted. Frantically she tried to regain control, and breathed a sigh of relief when she realised the coach had passed along the post road a few seconds before Arrow galloped across it and plunged into another small lane opposite. Grimly she hung on, and sensed the horse was beginning to calm down when another flash of lightning and another rumbling crash of thunder sent Arrow hurtling into the hedge at the side of the lane. He reared and then bucked, and as Georgiana fell to the ground she had a confused impression of flying hooves and a tangle of branches against a dark sky. Above the noise of the rain came a cackle of laughter. When Georgiana struggled to her feet she found a gnarled, wrinkled old crone leaning on a stick and regarding her from small black eyes that twinkled out of the depths of a creased, weathered face incongruously topped by a dirty, lace-edged mob-cap.

* * * *

'Be 'e 'urt?' the apparition enquired, hobbling towards Georgiana.

'No, but I'm wet through!' Georgiana replied crossly, looking at her wet and muddy habit. 'The horse was frightened, and you must have stepped out in front of him,' she added accusingly. 'I wondered why he swerved.'

'Aye. Likely,' the ancient old woman, for Georgiana now perceived that the crone was attired in skirts so old the colour was indeterminate, replied with no trace of apology in her voice. 'They beasts don't like wind nor thunder. But don't 'ee worry, they knows their way 'ome to their own stables!'

'That's all very well, but I'm
miles
from home!' Georgiana complained. 'I would have controlled him if you had not scared him by stepping out so suddenly!'

' 'Twas nought to do wi' I,' the crone maintained, the pitch of her voice rising angrily. 'Don't 'ee go blamin' old Mother Weaver! It'll be regettin' it if 'ee do!'

'Mother Weaver?' Georgiana repeated, and recalled the name of the reputed witch.

The old woman gave a croak of delighted laughter.

'So ye've 'eard o' me?' she gasped. 'Gi' me yer arm back to the cottage, young lady, and I'll tell yer fortune!'

Georgiana shivered.

'I – I do not think I want to have my fortune told, thank you. Is your cottage far? I really must start on my way home, for if that odious horse arrives without me my mother will be terrified.'

'On'y a minute or so, along this 'ere path. I'll tell yer luck one day, missee, that I know! Yer don't need my 'elp to make 'ee more beautiful, not yet, but I think ye could do wi' a love-potion?'

She had clasped Georgiana's arm in a claw-like hand, and peered up into the girl's face, her eyes twinkling. Controlling her distaste with an effort Georgiana helped her along the path and was relieved to see it was only a very short distance to the broken-down hovel where the old woman lived. As they entered the small clearing around the building a huge black cat silently leapt from beneath the shelter of a low bush and ran into the cottage ahead of them. Georgiana, whose nerves were raw, jumped and the old woman gave a hoarse crow of laughter.

'It be only old Nick,' she quavered. 'He don't 'urt them as don't wish 'arm to me! Now, young miss, do 'ee want a potion to make yer lover turn to 'ee?'

'No, no thank you!' Georgiana gasped. 'I must go home at once. Goodbye.'

She turned and fled, and Mother Weaver called after her in a surprisingly loud voice.

'Go to the Priory.'

* * * *

When Georgiana regained the path and stopped to draw breath, she realised the old woman's parting advice had been sensible. It would take her hours to walk home in her riding boots and trailing a heavy, soaking wet habit. Priory Dene was much nearer and there she could at least borrow a horse and save her mother much anxiety by reaching home soon after Arrow did.

Priory Dene must be straight ahead of her, she decided, although the lane she was in was not the one they had used the previous day. However, she began to trudge along it, and to her relief it soon joined the one she recognised. It took her almost an hour to reach the haven of the house, by which time the storm had finished and a watery sun was re-emerging between fast disappearing clouds.

The long drive was deserted and there seemed no one about as Georgiana plodded wearily on, but her knock on the door was speedily answered and the butler, recognising with some difficulty the pretty guest of the previous day, admitted her.

'I will inform her ladyship immediately, Miss Sharman,' he said, and then paused uncertainly.

'I can wait here. I am far too wet to be asked to sit down,' Georgiana said, laughing ruefully and pushing wet strands of hair away from her face. He smiled at her gratefully.

'I will call Mrs Butcher, the housekeeper, too,' he offered, and that highly efficient matron appeared from the kitchen regions at the same time as Lady Fordington came bustling down the stairs.

'My dear child, what in the world has happened?' Lady Fordington exclaimed.

'I was caught in the storm, and my horse was frightened and threw me,' Georgiana explained. 'I came to beg the loan of a horse for my mother will be frantic when Arrow returns home without me, and it is so far to walk!'

'You cannot ride home in such a state. Oh, why is Justin not here? He never is when he is needed!'