The Captain's Daughter (4 page)

Face to face
with a Benjamin Anstruther who was
sporting an irritatingly smug grin, Amy fought desperately to find something
appropriate to say.

“Good Morning, Sir Benjamin,” was
all she could come up with. Think. Think. Think.

“Good morning, Lady Amy... Is Amy a
diminutive?”

“What?”

“Is it short for a longer name? You
just don’t seem like a young lady with a short name.”

“Why not? If you really need to
know, it is short for Amaryllis.”

“That’s a pretty name. Just like
the pretty flowers.”

She was relieved that Ben himself
seemed to be ignoring her careless comments. While they certainly had been
complimentary of him and truly described her feelings, she didn’t want
him
to know. She decided she must keep him from remembering what she had said.

“You do know, Sir Benjamin, that
the name Amaryllis does not come from the pretty flowers as you call them, but
from a shepherdess named Amaryllis in Virgil’s Eclogues.”

“Ah yes, ‘Fair Amaryllis,’ bid the
woods resound.”

“I see, Sir Benjamin, that you are
familiar with Mr. Dryden’s translation.”

“And I see, Lady Amaryllis, that
you are too.”

She had the uneasy feeling that Ben
was toying with her.

“Yes, I looked myself up to see
what I was doing in ancient Rome.”

“As I recall, you were doing a
number of things, mostly with saucy shepherd lads.”

Amy blushed. If he noticed he did
not make it obvious.

“I have not had the privilege, Lady
Amaryllis, to study botany, but if I recall, the Amaryllis can refer to more
than one flower such as the resurrection lily, and...what is another one...oh
yes, the naked lady.”

“You are likely correct, but I must
apologize because I must take my leave of you now. I have to take my morning
ride.”

He was taken by surprise as she
suddenly strode off, but caught up with her just as she reached old Hubert at
work at the same marigold bed that he had been working on when she had her
little adventure with Turpin.

“Hubert, saddle up Pansy, I’m going
for my morning ride,” she somewhat imperiously asked, pretending not to notice
Ben.” And then feigning surprise, “Oh, I am sorry I didn’t notice that you were
still here Sir Benjamin.”

“I thought perhaps if you’re going
for a ride that I might accompany you part of the way.”

She wished Hubert would hurry up as
he struggled to get up from the flower bed. She normally felt compassion for
him, but the presence of Ben and her recent comments about him still hovered
around like a swarm of bad tempered bees and buzzed away all thoughts except
her desperation to get away from him and convalesce from her bout of life
threatening embarrassment. She was relieved when Hubert made it to something
close to a standing position and slowly walked off grumbling indiscernibly.

As she walked in the direction of
the stables she noticed with irritation that Ben was still leading his docile
mount just slightly behind her.

“May I? I’d be honored if you would
say yes.”

“May you what?”

“Accompany you?”

“I don’t see how I can prevent
you.”

The light sparring actually made
her feel a little better. At least he had not brought up her remarks. How she
wished she had not made them. She must do something. Maybe she should bring
them up and make light of them.

“I wish to apologize if I have been
rude, Lady Amaryllis. I will return to the hunt immediately.”

“Oh no, Sir Benjamin, I did not
mean to convey the idea that I was offended. You may ride along with me.”

He looked at her closely and she
could see that irritating smirk reappearing on his face once again.

“You don’t want me to go after the
fox,” he said grinning. “You feel sympathy for the fox.”

“No,” she said emphatically.

She was about to say more when Ben
noticed the Ramsey’s mounts in front of the stable. He went up and gently
stroked Sir Frank’s horse on the nose.

“I see that some of the hunt
preceded me here. Aren’t these Sir Frank and Lady Ramsay’s mounts?”

“They got here a little before you
arrived. Sir Frank served in the army with my father. He’s visiting with him
now.”

“I would like to meet your father.”

Amy looked at the ground for a
moment.

“My father... A few months ago, he
was thrown by his horse, Turpin.” She paused. “He is not his old self anymore.
Some days he is better than others, but he never sees visitors these days.
Mother doesn’t want people to see him in his present condition. She couldn’t
say no to Sir Frank since they campaigned together.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I didn’t
mean to be intrusive.”

“That is all right. Perhaps if you
visit us again it might be on one of Papa’s good days.”

She realized that Hubert was
nowhere to be seen.

“I think Hubert must be off looking
for Daniel. Daniel’s our stable hand. Poor Hubert is too feeble to do anything
by himself except to weed our marigolds. Could you leave your horse here and
accompany me to the house for a few minutes. There’s something I want to show
you.”

She led him to the house. Inside
the front door she stopped in front of a large gilt framed painting in the
front hallway.

“This is a portrait of our family.
It was painted a few years ago by the great Thomas Gainsborough just two or
three years before his death.”

“A tragic loss for the nation. You
know, I actually visited his tomb at St. Anne’s Church in Kew. He’s interred
next to Francis Bauer. Bauer was an artist who painted flowers. Was
Gainsborough alone when he painted your family? I heard that at the end he
collaborated with John Hoppner.”

“I don’t remember anyone else. This
is Emma,” she said pointing to the little blond two-year old in the painting.
“She looked so angelic then. And that is Mother standing behind her. You were
introduced to Mother at the ball, weren’t you?’

Ben nodded.

“And this mischievous red head is
you?” he asked.

“I was eleven then. That’s Mattie
next to me. She was around seven. You’d never guess from her tousled blond hair
then that she is the most ladylike of us all now. That’s Papa in his old
uniform. He could still fit into it back then.”

She fought back a tear.

“”I wanted you to see us as a
family. Mama looks the same as you can see. Papa...”

They both stood in silence for a
few moments.

“Let us take a ride,” said Amy with
forced cheerfulness.

When they got back to the stable
they found Pansy all saddled and ready to go. Ben helped Amy into the saddle
and then went to his own mount. As soon as he wasn’t looking, Amy kneed Pansy
and took off much to Ben’s amazement. Although he mounted his horse with a
speed and agility that left old Hubert and Daniel quite amazed, she had a
considerable head start.

As she reached the road, she spun
left and headed in the direction of Hillfield House. Pansy certainly didn’t
have the temperament of Turpin with his slightly malevolent streak, but she was
younger and capable of speed and dexterity. As Amy approached the gentle curve
in the road, she looked over her shoulder. Ben was just leaving the drive of
the house. He paused to see which way she had gone, and when he spotted her
disappearing around the curve took off after her.

Amy feeling keenly mischievous
after her recent embarrassment knew she had to give him the slip. She quickly
considered several possibilities, but decided that he would soon round the
curve leaving her with one choice and that was to hide. There was no better
place to do that than the overgrown path to the River Arne. As soon as she
reached it, she quickly turned into it squeezing through the growth.

When she reached a spot where she
could still see the road through the trees and bushes, she stopped and turned,
waiting for Ben to ride by. Not being from around Stockley-on-Arne there was no
way he would know about the path to the river and the old mill.

To her satisfaction, moments later
he rode by. She petted Pansy.

“We fooled him, Pansy,” she
gloated.

She was trying to decide what to do
next when she heard the sound of hooves. They weren’t galloping but instead
were slowly clip-clopping towards where she was hidden. She hushed Pansy so she
wouldn’t give away their location. Then Amy heard Ben’s voice. He was talking
to himself, at least he pretended to be, and very loudly.

“Where do you suppose she went? She
seems to have disappeared altogether. Maybe she’s a witch. That would explain a
lot.”

What did he mean by that?

“She does look a little bit like a
witch with a pointy nose.”

She forced herself not to feel the
end of her nose. Her temperature was rising, and it was all she could do to
remain silent as he rode past and disappeared. He was only out of sight for a
moment when he returned and looked quizzically at the location where the
pathway to the river started.

“That looks as if it might be the
entrance to a pathway,” he said loudly as he gently patted his horse.

“How could he possibly see that?”
she said mostly to herself because Pansy, like most horses, couldn’t talk. “The
trees and bushes are too thick.”

Then he backed up and rode in a
circle to where he was about twenty feet away from the entrance to the path but
had his mount pointed straight at it.

“What is he doing, Pansy?”

Then she found out. He rushed
towards the path in a charge that would make any cavalry regiment proud,
crashing through the vegetation straight towards her. As he reached her he
reined his horse to a sudden halt.

“Imagine meeting you here, Lady
Sibbridge.”

Before she could rein herself in
she found herself saying: “I’m not Lady Sibbridge. My mother is Lady Sibbridge.
My father is Lord Sibbridge. My name is Amy.”

Ben was a little surprised that she
had just surrendered her formality.

“I’ll make a deal with you. I will
call you Amy if you call me Ben.”

Before she could answer he coaxed
his horse in the direction of the River Arne. She followed slowly. She and
Pansy came alongside him as he looked intently at the river.

“I’ve always loved the sound of a
river. I used to come here with my father when I was young. He was very much
involved in trade and we only occasionally came to Hillfield House. That is
likely when you were very small. Maybe it was before you were born. Then my
father went to India and left me with my uncle.”

Amy had been studying Ben while he
was talking. She felt she had seen him someplace.

“Have we ever met? I feel as if
I’ve seen you somewhere.”

“Yes. We met last night at
Brewminster Hall.”

“I don’t mean that! Had we ever met
before then?”

“I probably just look familiar
because I’m Everyman. Just as the old morality plays says: My name is
Everyman
.”

“If I saw you in London or Bath
that might be a possibility. Mother has only taken me to gatherings in London
for the last two years.”

“Well I never go to gatherings in
either place if I can avoid them. I only went to the Brewminster’s last night
in order to be a good neighbor.”

“I had to read
Everyman
and
I don’t remember these words.” said Amy as her thoughts drifted back to his
comment.

“You do know that you seem to have
the tendency to resurrect parts of discussions that are already past?”

“Let’s look at the old mill,” said
Amy intentionally changing the subject.

“The river might be too deep to
cross.” Ben was clearly reluctant to cross over to the mill.

“No it isn’t,” said Amy. “I can see
the bottom from here.”

“I’m not so sure,” said Ben with a
grin she didn’t see, “sometimes water can look shallower than it really is.”

“I can assure you that the river is
not too deep.” She shuddered as her recent experience at plumbing its depth
came back to mind.

“I don’t think we should,” said
Ben. “The owner might not like it.”

“Aren’t you the owner?”

“I don’t know. I think my property
ends at the river. I’ll have to ask my uncle. My uncle and my father
practically grew up here, but as I said I’ve only been here a few times when I
was small and my father never brought me down here.”

“Well, whoever owns it I’m sure he
wouldn’t care.” She nudged Pansy forward, but Ben reached out and caught her
reins.

“I’d much prefer if we didn’t. I
don’t like to trespass on someone else’s land.”

Ben’s reluctance didn’t make much
sense to Amy, but she went ahead and changed the subject as she turned Pansy
around and headed back through the trees and bushes to the road.

“I’ve never seen Hillfield House
except from the distance.” Which was not entirely accurate. “Perhaps you will
do me the courtesy of allowing me to visit sometime,” she asked coyly.

“You may visit me anytime if you
bring a chaperone.”

Amy was annoyed at his implication
she might do otherwise. She nudged Pansy into a gallop in the direction of
home.

Chapter 5

When they
reached her home, Ben escorted her into the
house where her mother almost collided with them when she emerged suddenly from
the drawing room looking quite distracted.

“Oh dear, oh dear,” Lady Sibbridge
muttered quite flustered.

“Mother, Sir Benjamin is here.”

Looking around in several
directions at once, something only she could do, Lady Sibbridge said with only
a glance, “Good morning, Sir Benjamin. Oh dear.”

“What’s the matter, Mother,”
inquired Amy.

“Oh dear. I’m trying to arrange a
picnic, and I can’t find my invitation cards. And I’ve lost Mrs. Parkhurst.”

“We’re going to have a picnic?
Could we invite Sir Benjamin if he is willing to come?”

Amy knew if her mother was sending
out invitations the picnic was for more than just the family.

“Would you like to come to our
picnic, Sir Benjamin?” Amy invited.

“I would be honored,” he replied.
“If I am not down in London. When is the picnic?”

Her mother had already wandered off
muttering to herself.

“I know my mother and I am sure
that as of this time she has no idea when she intends the picnic to take
place.”

“Your mother was saying that she
lost Mrs. Parkhurst?”

“Mrs. Charlotte Parkhurst is my
sister Emma’s tutor. And I have no idea what Mother is talking about, although
if anyone can lose someone it is my mother. Anyway, when Mother gets the
invitations sent out, then we’ll know when the picnic will take place. I don’t
know what else to say.”

“I will look forward to receiving
an invitation.”

He smiled, giving Amy a quick bow
and walking to the front door. As he reached it the door swung open and Emma
entered carrying a hedgehog. Ben grimaced and looked at Amy.

“Emma! Take that poor hedgehog back
where you found it. Its mother will be looking for it.”

Ben decided it was time to get away
from the Sibbridge’s residence.

“I bid you ladies adieu,” he said
slipping out the front door.

Amy looked over at the door to say
goodbye but Ben was already gone.

“It’s fully grown. It’s mother will
not be looking for it,” asserted Emma with a tone that suggested there was
something deficient in Amy’s ability to judge the age of hedgehogs, and that
Emma was disappointed in such a failure in her sister. However, in deference to
her sister, Emma opened the front door in order to restore the hedgehog to its
former abode.

“Wait a minute,” commanded Amy.

Emma paused in the doorway and
looked at her sister apprehensively.

“Emma, why cannot mother find Mrs.
Parkhurst?”

“How would I know that,” said Emma
and Amy felt she detected a sheepish note in Emma’s response.

Then a thought occurred to Amy.

“Aren’t you supposed to be doing
your lessons?”

“I... I suppose, but as you heard
mother, we cannot find Mrs. Parkhurst.”

“Emma, where is Mrs. Parkhurst?”

Emma shrugged and said she didn’t
know. But to Amy she looked guilty.

“Are you sure,” asked a highly
suspicious Amy.

“How would I know,” asked Emma
looking ever so innocent. “Am I her keeper?”

“The last person to say that was
Cain and he’d just killed his brother. You didn’t just kill Mrs. Parkhurst, did
you?”

“Not yet,” Emma mumbled darkly
under her breath.”

Amy didn’t catch what her sister
said.

“What did you just say?”

“Nothing,” said Emma and then ran
outside slamming the front door behind her.

Amy considered a hot pursuit then
decided she had better go and see how her mother was doing.

When Amy came downstairs after
changing out of her riding habit, the family was sitting down to lunch. Before
everyone was even seated, Mattie was already gushing about the gangly youth,
and comparing Ben negatively to her skinny and almost certainly temporary
object of affection.

Which reminded her mother of Ben.

“Sir Benjamin was just here,” she
said. “We should invite him to the picnic.”

Emma had just slipped into the room
and she took her seat.

“Are we inviting Sir Frank and Lady
Ramsey?” she asked her mother.

“Maybe we shouldn’t if you keep
making these outlandish and unladylike comments.”

Amy wondered what Emma had said
this time that her mother felt was unladylike. Of course, her mother regarded
most everything that Emma said or did as unladylike. Emma and Lady Sibbridge
looked at this world from two entirely different and incompatible points of
view. Her mother almost immediately satisfied Amy’s curiosity.

“Lord and Lady Ramsey were leaving.
They were in great haste to get back to London before dark. Dear Estella is so
afraid of the highwaymen that have plagued the London Road and other highways
of late. I don’t blame her one bit. These modern highwaymen aren’t like the
ones when I was young. They are so violent today. They think nothing of
assaulting their victims, even killing them. Quite unlike what they used to be.
Once, when your father and I were young we were confronted by a highwayman on
the Dover Road, and he was actually quite charming. He did take your father’s
medallion... And he did take my necklace, but he apologized profusely.”

Amy glanced over at her father. He
seemed to be shaking his head as if he didn’t quite agree, but she couldn’t be
sure. There was no way of telling if he even understood what her mother was
saying.

“Anyway,” her mother continued,
“just as they were leaving, what did Emma blurt out but that she wanted a
telescope and her father had consented to buying her one. Heaven knows that
your dear father can be led to consent to anything right now, but if he was his
old self I cannot believe he would ever consent to such a thing. It is
unnatural for a girl to be interested in such things.”

Amy glanced over at Emma and feared
her sister was on the point of an act of aggression, at least a vocal one, so
she decided she better intervene.

“I was out riding and encountered
Sir Benjamin. He seemed unsure if the old mill was on his property or not.
Doesn’t his property extend over to the London Road?”

“I don’t know, dear,” Lady
Sibbridge said in a rare moment of thoughtfulness. And then moving the boundary
lines of the subject, “I remember his grandfather. And his father too. The boys
used to live up here all the time until they went off to school. After school,
Lord Caradoc, Sir Benjamin’s father, seldom came up here after he inherited the
title and the estate. And I’ve never seen Sir Benjamin’s uncle since he was a
boy. Lord Caradoc was involved in government affairs and then connected to a
trading company in India. I heard he has made a fortune.”

Amy decided she had just
experienced her mother’s one lucid moment for this month between her many
flustered spells, although she had a great suspicion that her mother’s
flustered spells were not entirely genuine.

“Mother,” asked Amy, “you will
invite Sir Benjamin to the picnic?”

“Yes of course dear, whenever I can
find Mrs. Parkhurst. I need her help in making out the invitations.”

Amy looked over at Emma, who shrank
down in her chair.

“Would you excuse me?” Amy asked
her mother. “I will be right back.”

Her mother didn’t seem to notice
the question but looked distracted over the matter of the invitations and whom
she should invite.

Mrs. Parkhurst had not come to
lunch. This was not of itself unusual, but combined with her apparent
mysterious disappearance it called for an investigation, so Amy decided to go
in search of the missing governess.

The first place she looked was in
the room where Emma took her lessons. The room was empty. Amy entered it and
looked around. As she was about to leave she thought she heard something, so
she stopped and listened. Muffled noises were coming from the cupboard where
the school supplies were stored.

She went over to the cupboard and
listened.

“Hello,” she asked, “is someone in
there?”

The muffled voice from behind the
door affirmed that the answer was yes. When Amy went to get the key, which was
kept in the desk by the door, it was missing. She went back to the supply
cupboard door and told the victim inside that the key was missing but that she
was sure she knew where she could find it and she would promptly return and
release her from her prison.

Amy went back to the dining room.
Her mother seemed to be engaged in thought while occasionally acknowledging
Mattie’s effusive comments which seemed to still center around the drooly
youth. Her father sat with a bemused expression slowly chewing his food. Emma
looked as if she was trying not to be noticed.

“I need you to come with me,” Amy
growled to her under her breath.

Lady Sibbridge was still lost in
thought. Mattie was still effusing. Lord Sibbridge was still chewing.

“I’m not through eating,” Emma said
through clenched teeth.

“Your life depends on you coming
with me.”

Emma looked at first as if she was
going to resist, and then she reluctantly got up and followed Amy into the
hall. Perhaps she thought better of refusing given the look in Amy’s expression
that she was about to commit Emmacide.

Once outside Amy held her hand out
and demanded: “I want the key.”

“What key?” asked Emma with her
very best innocent look.

“All right. Do you want to die
right here? Do you want your blood ruining mother’s carpet? Or, do I get the
key to the supply cupboard where you have cruelly imprisoned dear Mrs.
Parkhurst?”

“But...”

“The key,” demanded Amy cutting off
what Emma was about to say.

Emma took the key out of the pocket
of her smock.

“All I’m trying to say is that I
found the key. That is the only reason I have it in my pocket. I didn’t know
Mrs. Parkhurst was in the cupboard.”

“Look at Mr. Gainsborough’s
painting of our family. Do you see that beautiful little girl with the blond
hair? She looks so innocent. Well, she is older now and bound for perdition.”

“Will you get sent to perdition for
locking Mrs. Parkhurst in the cupboard and dissembling just a little bit about
it? I mean, it is Mrs. Parkhurst. Isn’t there some kind of an exception or
dispensation in the case of Mrs. Parkhurst.”

Emma looked up at her sister with a
wondrous expression of innocence and guilelessness. Amy, shaking her head, left
on her rescue mission to release the governess from her upstairs dungeon of
books and papers.