A Lady of Rare Quality
Autor
Anne Ashley
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15
Chapter One
It was a full minute before Miss Annis Milbank could recover sufficiently from the shock to exclaim, ‘But, my dear ma’am! What in the world makes you suppose that I am the most appropriate person to aid you? For all that I endeavour to behave as my dear mama would have wished, I remain shockingly outspoken on occasions. In consequence, I’m ill equipped to take upon myself the role of mediator, most especially in such a delicate matter as this.’
Lady Pelham merely smiled that serene smile of hers, as she raised her eyes to study the delightful features framed in a riot of glossy chestnut curls.
Beautifully candid as ever, her goddaughter had spoken no less than the truth. Yet, even though her manners and behaviour were somewhat unorthodox on occasions, and there were those who considered her a little too self-reliant for someone of her tender years, Annis had been blessed with her mother’s serenity, not to mention kindness and understanding, and her father’s determination and sound common sense. These admirable traits, coupled with an abundance of roguish charm, made her the ideal person to adopt the role of envoy.
‘You err, my dear,’ she countered gently. ‘Your not being afraid to speak your mind in this instance might well prove advantageous.’
Annis betrayed her misgivings by lifting one fine brow in a decidedly sceptical arch. ‘Ma’am, if the present Lord Greythorpe resembles his predecessor in character, is it likely he’ll listen to anything I might choose to say?’
‘The truth of the matter is, child, I’ve no notion of what manner of man the current holder of the title might be,’ Lady Pelham confessed as she rose wearily to her feet and went across to the window. ‘Opinions vary. I’ve heard it said that he’s very like his late father in so much as he has a tendency to be cold and unapproachable on occasions; others, so I understand, hold a very different view of him. I myself am endeavouring to keep an open mind.’
Her expression suddenly grave, Lady Pelham swung round to stare at her goddaughter. ‘Please do not imagine I ask this of you lightly,’ she revealed at length. ‘In fact, if I could have turned to any other, a member of my own immediate family, or some close friend here in Bath, I should never have written in such a melodramatic fashion, begging you to visit here without delay. You must have been a little concerned when I offered no explanation in my letter.’
Her lively sense of humour coming to the fore, Annis couldn’t help smiling at this gross understatement. The instant she had received the communication, she hadn’t hesitated to make all haste to Bath. The journey from her Leicestershire home had been achieved swiftly enough, but even so she had been granted ample time to imagine the worst.
On her arrival a short time earlier, she had half-expected to be met with the intelligence that Lady Pelham was gravely ill, or at the very least that some shocking misfortune had befallen Helen, her godmother’s niece. Never in her wildest imaginings had she supposed she had been summoned for the sole purpose of acting as go-between and spokesperson, a role for which she had had no previous experience. Therefore she could only assume the situation must be more dire than she had first supposed.
‘Ma’am, perhaps I have not perfectly understood,’ she felt obliged to admit. ‘You say you received a communication, quite out of the blue, from Helen’s half-brother, inviting you both to spend a few weeks at the family’s country residence in Hampshire, and that Helen herself was not altogether enthusiastic about accepting.’ Annis found it impossible to suppress a wry smile. ‘Well, ma’am, I for one can fully appreciate her feelings on the matter. She appears to me to have gone on well enough without being acknowledged by any member of her late father’s family throughout her life.’
‘Helen feels neither bitter nor resentful towards any member of the Greythorpe family,’ Lady Pelham assured Annis, before subjecting her to a thoughtful stare, as she resumed the seat opposite. ‘Which is something I have strongly suspected that you yourself have experienced increasingly over the years towards your mother’s relatives, my dear.’
Annis’s refusal to be drawn on the irksome topic of her late mother’s close relations ignited a glint of respect in Lady Pelham’s eyes. ‘Do not misunderstand me,’ she went on. ‘I for one felt nothing but admiration for your mama. Unlike my sister and myself, she at least possessed the strength of character to go against her family’s wishes and marry a man of her own choosing. How different Charlotte’s and my life might have been had we possessed the courage to follow a similar path!’
Although she knew a great deal about Lady Pelham and her late sister’s marriages, neither of which had been even a moderately successful alliance, though both blessedly of short duration, Annis felt obliged to have one salient point confirmed at this juncture, and so did not hesitate to ask that all important question.
‘There has never been any doubt in my mind that the Sixth Viscount Greythorpe was indeed Helen’s sire,’ Lady Pelham answered, the conviction in her voice unshakeable. ‘My sister’s behaviour might not have been altogether wise, though understandable in the circumstances. Married to a highly cynical and unapproachable being, many years her senior, was it any wonder she responded to the gentle attentions of the young man commissioned so early in the marriage to paint her portrait? Charlotte freely admitted that she sought the artist’s company frequently during those few weeks he stayed at Greythorpe Manor. But she swore their association never went beyond mild flirtation. It was perhaps unfortunate that Helen was conceived at that time,’ Lady Pelham felt obliged to concede. ‘More unfortunate, still, was that she should have been cursed with the red hair that has not infrequently crowned the heads of certain members of our family down the generations, myself included.’
‘It does seem strange that the late Lord Greythorpe didn’t appreciate this fact himself,’ Annis remarked.
‘He might well have done so,’ Lady Pelham acknowledged, after a moment’s intense thought. ‘A gentleman prone to moods of deep depression he might have been, but I never heard it said he lacked intelligence. He might have taken into account too that it is not uncommon for two people with very dark locks to produced auburn-haired offspring. It was just unfortunate that the artist himself had Titian hair.’
‘Unfortunate, indeed,’ Annis agreed. ‘But if, as you say, Helen feels no bitterness towards her late father’s family, why is she so unwilling to accept the invitation to visit the ancestral pile?’
‘Oh, she isn’t wholly against the notion,’ Lady Pelham corrected gently. ‘It is simply that we had previously accepted an invitation to spend a few days with a friend of Helen’s in Devonshire at the end of February, which was the time Lord Greythorpe proposed for the commencement of the visit to Hampshire. So I wrote back explaining this, and suggested a shorter visit might be more appropriate for Helen’s first stay at Greythorpe Manor.’
‘Is Helen against a protracted sojourn in the country?’ Annis queried when her godmother relapsed into silence.
‘Oh, no. I think, had circumstances been a little different, she might well have been quite happy to oblige her half-brother,’ Lady Pelham revealed, her expression suddenly grim. ‘As things stand, however, it doesn’t suit Helen at all to remain away from Bath for a lengthy period at present.’
Annis’s attention was well and truly captured, for she felt that at last they had arrived at the crux of the matter. Consequently she did not hesitate, yet again, to have her curiosity satisfied.
‘Because shortly before we received Lord Greythorpe’s invitation, Helen’s path was, regrettably, crossed by a handsome, silver-tongued young rogue, who has been paying her marked attention ever since,’ her godmother revealed without a moment’s hesitation.
Annis wasn’t slow to comprehend. ‘A fortune-hunter, ma’am?’
‘Undoubtedly!’ Lady Pelham concurred. ‘Surprisingly, Helen has yet to see him for precisely what he is. However, as you know yourself, she is not prone to folly, and is mature for her years. It is my belief that, given time, she will overcome this foolish infatuation of hers and common sense will prevail, providing she is granted that all important time.’
Once again, Lady Pelham rose from her chair, only this time to pace about the room, clearly revealing her troubled state of mind. ‘My one great fear is that, if forcibly removed from Bath, while she remains utterly besotted, she just might be persuaded into an elopement. Then, I’m afraid, there would be nothing either her trustees or I could do to prevent that young ne’er-do-well, Mr Daniel Draycot, from getting his hands on at least part of her inheritance.’
Such was her perturbed state, she appeared to find it necessary to adjust one of the ornaments on the mantelshelf a fraction of an inch, only to return it a moment later to its former position. ‘You see, my sister Charlotte was determined that Helen, like your own mother, should marry for love. Helen will come into her inheritance unconditionally upon marriage, at least the money left to her by her mother, which is not insubstantial.’
Although Annis perfectly understood her godmother’s concerns, she still considered the problem could be easily resolved. ‘Why not simply do what Helen herself wishes, ma’am, and write to Lord Greythorpe suggesting a shorter visit later in the year? Surely that will satisfy all concerned?’
‘That is precisely what I did do, my dear, and my reply most definitely did not satisfy his lordship. He sent me this in response.’
Lady Pelham went over to the escritoire, and, quickly locating a certain letter, promptly presented it for Annis to read. A moment later she watched her goddaughter’s finely arched dark brows snap together, and the green flecks in the strikingly lovely grey eyes intensify, as they avidly scanned the missive written in a bold and unmistakably masculine hand.
‘The arrogance of the man!’ Annis tossed the letter aside in disgust. ‘Who on earth does he imagine he is, insisting his half-sister pays a visit when it suits his purposes? His maternal grandmother…?’ She paused to consult the missive once more. ‘This Dowager Lady Kilbane is no relation to Helen, after all, so there is no necessity for Helen to be present at the proposed birthday celebration to be held at Greythorpe Manor early in the spring. If I were you, ma’am, when the carriage he clearly intends sending to collect you arrives next week, I’d send it back immediately, with a letter stating in no uncertain terms that you will decide when your niece shall visit Greythorpe Manor.’
‘Believe me, my dear, nothing would afford me greater satisfaction,’ Lady Pelham divulged. ‘I very much fear Lord Deverel Greythorpe is not unlike his father, imperious and uncompromising, having scant regard for the feelings of others. Sadly, though, he is well within his rights to insist upon Helen visiting whenever he chooses.’ She smiled as Annis’s expression turned to one of consternation. ‘The late Lord Greythorpe, for reasons best known to himself, never took steps to divorce my sister after their separation. When he died, guardianship of the daughter he never acknowledged as his own, along with everything else he possessed, passed to his only son and heir, the present holder of the title.’
Misguidedly, Annis had always assumed that, after Charlotte’s demise, Lady Pelham had become Helen’s guardian, and didn’t attempt to hide her astonishment. ‘I never knew that, ma’am,’ she admitted. ‘It makes one wonder what can have been in the late Lord Greythorpe’s mind. Why did he not transfer guardianship to you after his wife’s death, as he clearly wanted nothing to do with Helen?’
Lady Pelham’s smile was twisted. ‘Whatever the motive, I cannot imagine it was because he had his youngest child’s best interests at heart. No, it is much more likely that he succeeded in putting her very existence from his mind.’
As this seemed highly probable, Annis nodded, before something else occurred to her as rather odd. ‘Why, do you suppose, has the present holder of the title suddenly taken such an interest in his half-sister?’
Clearly at a loss to understand this herself, Lady Pelham shook her head. ‘I do know that he has travelled extensively and was abroad when news of his father’s demise reached him, which is perhaps why he waited almost a year before making contact at all. The ancestral home covers very many acres of Hampshire countryside. There is also a smaller estate in Derbyshire and a fashionable London residence, both of which he has visited in recent months. He must have been kept very busy since his return.’
As this, too, seemed a reasonable enough assumption to make, Annis didn’t dwell on it. Instead she asked, ‘Do you suppose that he, at least, now that his father is dead, is prepared to acknowledge Helen openly as his sibling?’
‘If that is his intention, it could do the child nothing but good. I wouldn’t attempt to suggest that Helen has suffered greatly as a result of her late father’s unnatural behaviour, but there have been occasions when some heartless wretch has questioned her birth within her hearing.’
‘We must hope, ma’am, that her half-brother’s actions will check any future speculation, and that his wife too is disposed to look kindly upon your niece.’
‘Oh, he isn’t married, my dear,’ Lady Pelham disclosed, with a quizzical smile. ‘I cannot quite make up my mind whether that surprises me or not. I met him only once, when he paid an unexpected visit here, offering his condolences, shortly after Charlotte’s death. Whether he did so with his father’s full knowledge and approval, I’m not altogether sure, though I will say this, his expressions of regret at his stepmother’s demise did seem genuine. Understandably, after almost ten years, my memory of him is a little hazy, but I seem to recall thinking him a very serious young man, though not unappealing in a darkly brooding sort of way. And I seem to remember too someone, quite recently, mentioning that he resides with his sister who, if I remember correctly, is close to him in age and, like himself, has never married.’
Lady Pelham once again lowered herself gracefully into the chair, and for several moments stared meditatively at an imaginary spot on the carpet. ‘Helen knows nothing of Lord Greythorpe’s most recent letter. She knows nothing either of the extent of his authority over her.’
Annis was surprised to discover this and didn’t attempt to conceal the fact. ‘Great heavens, ma’am! Why on earth did you keep his guardianship secret?’
Lady Pelham shook her head, as though at a loss to know why herself. ‘The truth of the matter is that, even though I was informed, shortly after her father’s demise, that Deverel Greythorpe had become Helen’s legal guardian, I never gave the matter a second thought. Her father never once attempted to interfere in her upbringing, never attempted to make contact at all, come to that. It never occurred to me to suppose that her half-brother might behave differently.’ A further sigh escaped her. ‘Believe me when I say that I didn’t deliberately keep the guardianship secret from Helen. All the same, I cannot help feeling that it would be a mistake to reveal it at the present time, while she is still viewing a certain unscrupulous young rogue through a rosy haze.’
Annis, having no difficulty understanding this viewpoint, at last began to appreciate the extent of her godmother’s grave concerns. ‘You fear that Helen just might be persuaded into believing a prolonged visit to Greythorpe Manor is a ploy on your and her guardian’s part to separate her from her beau?’
Given her troubles were many at present, Lady Pelham managed a secretive little smile. ‘Not only that, my dear, I sincerely believe it would be a grave mistake to cancel our visit to Devonshire, for I’ve recently discovered that Mr Draycot is, for reasons best known to himself, not at all keen for Helen and I to go there. And I feel sure his objection does not stem from a desire not to be parted from Helen.’
‘How interesting!’ Annis was intrigued. ‘You suspect he fears that you might uncover something unsavoury about him there?’
‘That is precisely what I do think, yes,’ Lady Pelham admitted. ‘And, to be perfectly truthful, what I am hoping. He did on one occasion let fall that he stayed for a short space in that part of the world, though whether in Okehampton itself, where Helen’s friend resides with her parents, I’m not altogether sure. Although I believe Mr Draycot has attempted on more than one occasion to persuade Helen to cancel the visit, declaring he cannot bear to be parted from her even for a few days, she has withstood his pleas thus far, and remains determined to go.’
Lady Pelham returned to her chair as the sound of voices filtered through from the hall. ‘Unless I am much mistaken, Helen has once again come upon Mr Draycot…er…quite by chance, you understand, during her walk in the park, and has, unless my hearing is defective, invited him back for refreshments. You may judge for yourself what manner of man he is. But have a care, Annis, my dear,’ she warned in an undertone. ‘Helen does not expect to discover you here. So you must say your visit is purely impromptu; that you are on your way to stay with friends, and that you simply couldn’t pass so close without visiting us for a day or two. On no account must she discover that I have sent for you.’
As a direct result of that one and only encounter with Mr Daniel Draycot, Annis did not linger in Bath. Within the space of two days, she was travelling across the country again in a hired post-chaise, only through Hampshire this time, a county she had never visited before.
Ordinarily Annis would have found sufficient to capture her attention, even this early in the year, when the countryside was most definitely not looking its best, had it not been for the fact that she was more interested in reaching her destination without delay.
Unfortunately, since her departure from that once-fashionable watering place, the weather had taken a definite turn for the worse. Within the space of twenty-four hours the temperature had plummeted, the country was now being buffeted by a biting-cold east wind, and the leaden sky, which had looked grimly threatening all the morning, was finally adding to the sufferings of hapless travellers by liberally scattering frozen droplets across the landscape.
‘I ought to have bespoken rooms back at that posting-house, instead of foolishly attempting to reach Greythorpe Manor today,’ Annis confided to her sole travelling companion. ‘Both you and the post-boys predicted snow before too long.’
‘You’re not one to ignore sound advice,’ Eliza Disher, ever loyal, countered, ‘leastways, not unless you have good reason. I know well enough that you’re not at all comfortable with this task Lady Pelham has set you. So the sooner it’s over and done with the better you’ll feel, my lamb.’
‘That’s assuming his lordship is willing to receive me,’ Annis responded, smiling despite the fact that she was under no illusion about this herself.
Of course, there was a very real possibility that she might be denied admittance, and the discomforts she had suffered during the past days, travelling about the country at a most unseasonable time of year, would have been for nought.
‘It is true I carry a letter of introduction from my godmother. Whether or not it will suffice, and I shall be granted the interview I seek with the Viscount, is a different matter entirely. Furthermore, as what I wish to discuss is of a very personal nature, I might well be shown the door long before I’m able to state my godmother’s case fully.’
‘I see it this way, Miss Annis, you can do no more than your best,’ the lifelong maid encouraged, thereby winning herself a loving smile from the young woman whom she had helped bring into the world almost twenty-four years before. ‘I know you better than most anyone else does, and know that unless you believed you were doing right to speak up for Lady Pelham, you wouldn’t be here now.’
Silently, she acknowledged the truth of this. Lady Pelham was one of the few members of her own mother’s social class whom Annis openly admired. A widow of many years, Henrietta Pelham was intelligent and good-natured, a lady who had taken her responsibilities as a godmother seriously indeed. It was mainly thanks to her that Annis had been able to sample those entertainments enjoyed only by the most privileged class during the many visits she had made to Bath, both before and since her beloved mother’s demise.
Undertaking this mission now was a way of thanking Lady Pelham for the many kindnesses she had shown towards her over the years, but even so Annis had not made her decision without giving the matter a deal of thought first.
‘Well, Dish, every instinct tells me that Lady Pelham has good reason to be suspicious about Mr Daniel Draycot. A rogue and no mistake! I don’t doubt my godmother’s ability to manage things, providing of course she is granted the opportunity. It’s up to me to do my utmost to ensure that she is given sufficient time to reveal Draycot’s true—’
Annis broke off as the carriage came to an unexpected and abrupt halt in the middle of the road. The snow was nowhere near heavy enough to contemplate abandoning the journey quite yet. So she could only assume that the post-boys, not quite certain of the precise location of Greythorpe Manor, were debating between themselves which fork in the road to take.
Drawing her cloak more tightly about her against the inevitable blast of cold air, Annis let down the window, and demanded an immediate explanation for the delay. An apologetic post-boy was before her almost at once, appearing decidedly ill at ease as he revealed the surprising intelligence that there was what appeared to be a body lying in the road, just up ahead.
Naturally surprised, but not unduly alarmed, Annis alighted from the carriage the instant the steps had been let down, with the fiercely protective Disher close on her heels.
She had grown accustomed throughout her life to being compared with her father. Not only did she resemble him in looks, but, to a certain extent, in character too. Undeniably she had inherited the late Dr Milbank’s acute powers of observation, which she put to good use as she approached the clearly masculine form lying prostrate in the road, and the handsome chestnut gelding standing a mere few yards away from his evidently injured master.
After casting a cursory glance over her left shoulder at the trees that edged the road, Annis dropped to her knees in order to examine the stranger more closely. The blood oozing from a scorched portion of his jacket sleeve, between shoulder and elbow, told its own tale, as did the slight swelling and gash on his forehead. With her maid’s assistance she managed to turn the stranger over on his back. Unfortunately a brief examination of his various pockets did not reveal his identity, merely the fact that the motive for the attack was unlikely to have been robbery.
‘Begging your pardon, miss,’ the agitated post-boy said as Annis, after a closer inspection of the area surrounding the injured man, rose at last to her feet, ‘but we’d best not linger. No saying as who might still be about, lying in wait,’ he added, before he turned, eager, it seemed, to rejoin his colleague and remount his horse.
‘You are not proposing, I trust, to continue the journey and leave this poor fellow here?’ Annis asked, raising her fine, expressive brows in faint hauteur, a gesture that never failed to put Disher in mind of her young mistress’s aristocratic grandmother, in her time a fearsome matriarch whom one had defied at one’s peril.
The look had the desired effect. The injured man was subsequently deposited in the carriage by the two stocky post-boys, though not without a deal of grumbling, and muttering of colourful oaths. Not disposed to linger herself, Annis did not hesitate to order the resumption of the journey once the stranger’s fine gelding had been secured to the back of the conveyance.
‘Are you hoping someone at Greythorpe Manor might know who he is?’ Disher asked, after watching her mistress’s attempt to make the stranger more comfortable by placing a fur muff beneath his injured head, and covering him with a rug.
‘If he’s from around these parts, and I have every reason to suppose he might well be, then, yes, there’s every chance he’ll be known by someone at the Manor.’ Annis took a moment to study the evident aristocratic lines of a face that, although not handsome, was ruggedly attractive and full of character. ‘His clothes alone suggest a man of some means. His mount too is a fine piece of horseflesh. Moreover, gentlemen with funds aplenty at their disposal usually travel great distances by carriage, not on horseback. That is why I’m inclined to believe he’s local.’
Disher smiled. ‘How you put me in mind of your sainted father at times like these, Miss Annis.’
If she had suspected this praise to be received with any degree of pleasure she was doomed to disappointment. When she attained no response whatsoever, she turned her head, and was surprised to discover deep lines of concern furrowing her young mistress’s intelligent brow. ‘What’s troubling you, miss? Do you suspect the gentleman is badly hurt?’
‘A more thorough examination is needed to be sure, but I wouldn’t have said so, no,’ Annis answered promptly. ‘Clearly he’s been shot, but that I suspect is nought but a scratch. The gash to his head is the more serious injury and, unless I’m very much mistaken, was sustained when he fell from his mount.’ She frowned again, perplexed. ‘What I find hard to understand is the motive for the attack. It certainly wasn’t robbery. You saw yourself the size of the purse I drew from his pocket.’
‘Perhaps we happened along before the robber had time to search for the gentleman’s valuables,’ the maid suggested, ‘and he made a quick getaway before he was seen by the post-boys.’
‘Unlikely, Dish,’ Annis countered. ‘As we didn’t hear the sound of a shot—and neither, I suspect, did the post-boys, otherwise they wouldn’t have been quite so surprised to discover our friend here in the road—it’s reasonable to suppose the incident occurred some little time before we arrived on the scene. This is corroborated by the lack of footprints in the snow. Apart from our own, and the chestnut gelding’s, there were no prints. It began to snow some fifteen minutes ago, no more. So the attack, I imagine, took place shortly before then. Ample time for a would-be robber to rifle through the gentleman’s pockets, I should say.’
As the carriage slowed yet again before passing between the stone pillars of an imposing gateway, Annis’s thoughts turned to more mundane matters. Since their return to the carriage the weather had deteriorated further. It was almost impossible to distinguish between the sweep of the drive and the grass verges, and she couldn’t help feeling a deal of unease about the return journey to town. Time was of the essence. In consequence she didn’t waste a precious second in studying the architectural splendour of the Restoration mansion, when the carriage came to a halt outside the imposing front entrance a few minutes later, but marched resolutely up to the solid oak door.
The footman in smart green livery who came in response to her imperious application of the door-knocker was not slow to divulge his master’s absence from home, or the fact that Viscount Greythorpe rarely saw strangers without an appointment.
Annis, undaunted, merely announced her intention of leaving a letter of introduction, and returning on the morrow, weather permitting, before revealing the more pressing concern of the stranger in her hired conveyance.
Although naturally taken aback, the footman braved the elements and accompanied her back down the steps to the waiting carriage. ‘You evidently recognise the gentleman,’ Annis said when the footman’s jaw dropped perceptively the instant after he had peered into the carriage.
‘Know him, ma’am? I should say so… It’s his lordship!’
