Carisbrooke Abbey Read online

  ‘It has been very pleasant,’ agreed Hilary. And indeed, without Mr Ulverstone, the time would have passed far more slowly, for she had seen little of Lord Carisbrooke.

  ‘I’m glad you have enjoyed them, too.’ His voice was warm. Suddenly he turned towards her and, dropping his reins, reached over and took her hand. ‘Miss Wentworth —’

  Hilary was surprised. There was something about his tone that made her feel he was about to say something significant. But he stopped suddenly as footsteps intruded on his speech. Looking up, Hilary saw that the rector’s wife had appeared on the other side of the river.

  Mr Ulverstone dropped Hilary’s hand, and a look of vexation crossed his face.

  ‘Mrs Pettifer,’ he muttered. He raised his voice so that it would carry across the ford. ‘This is a surprise. You have walked from the rectory, I take it, Mrs Pettifer?’

  ‘I have,’ said the rector’s wife, raising her voice likewise so that they could hear her.

  ‘It is very good of you to have called, but I don’t see why ... ?’

  ‘I’ve come to see Lord Carisbrooke,’ she called. ‘My husband’s cold has taken a turn for the worse and he’s confined to his bed. He won’t be able to take the service on Sunday, and as chance would have it the curate’s away visiting his grandmother. I don’t know what we’re to do.’

  ‘One Sunday won’t matter, I’m sure,’ said Mr Ulverstone. ‘The villagers’ souls will not be in danger if they miss a week’s instruction.’

  Mrs Pettifer looked shocked. ‘It’s not a thing I’d like to see happen. Nor, I’m persuaded, would Lord Carisbrooke. But perhaps he might be able to think of something.’

  ‘Won’t you join us?’ asked Hilary. ‘We are about to return to the abbey.’

  ‘Thank you, I would welcome the company. I will cross higher up, at the footbridge, and join you shortly.’

  She disappeared from view, to reappear soon afterwards.

  ‘A good thing it hasn’t been swept away,’ she said. ‘It’s been lost before now, when the river was high, but it seems solid enough this time.’

  ‘Would you care to ride?’ asked Mr Ulverstone. ‘I would gladly take you up before me.’

  ‘Oh, no thank you. As long as you don’t go too fast I shall keep up, never fear.’

  They set off at a slow pace.

  ‘I’m glad to see you,’ said Mrs Pettifer, looking up at Hilary. ‘I’ve some news that might interest you, my dear. The very night you called on us at the rectory, we had a second visitor. A local farmer, Mr Hampson - a very respectable man, and doing well for himself - called to ask my husband to christen his newest daughter. She’d just been born, and wasn’t likely to live, and he didn’t want her to depart this world without benefit of a christening. So my husband went and baptised the poor child, though he was sneezing fit to burst, and what do you know? She survived the night, and now looks set to live, which is a blessing, because never a better family than the Hampsons drew breath.’ She stopped to draw breath herself, then asked, ‘Now where was I? Oh, yes, the Hampsons,’ she continued, without waiting for a reply. ‘And what did my husband say on his return, but Mr Hampson’s looking for someone to look after his three little girls until his wife is up and about again.’

  The rector’s wife looked significantly at Hilary. It seemed she had realized Hilary might be in difficulties at the abbey, and had decided to let her know of Mr Hampson’s need.

  ‘That is good news,’ said Hilary thoughtfully. ‘I’m so pleased the little girl has gathered strength. And I confess, I am interested to hear that Mr Hampson is in need of someone to look after the children, for as chance would have it I am looking for a position myself.’

  Although Lord Carisbrooke had promised to find her a position it might take some time, and she did not feel she could neglect this opportunity to do something for herself.

  ‘What a coincidence,’ said Mrs Pettifer blithely. ‘Now if that isn’t good luck all round. Well, seeing as though we’ve still a fair way to go, let me tell you all about it.’

  * * * *

  On their return to the abbey, Mrs Pettifer was soon ensconced with Lord Carisbrooke. Hilary was surprised that he had so readily made time for the rector’s wife, but Mrs Pettifer had taken it for granted that he would see her, and Lund had shown her in right away. Whatever his faults, it was clear that Lord Carisbrooke was a responsible landowner who would always make time for his dependents.

  It intrigued Hilary. He was short-tempered and curmudgeonly, and she had thought he would be irritated by Mrs Pettifer’s visit, but it showed her that, where Lord Carisbrooke was concerned, she had a lot to learn - although she would not have time to learn it.

  The thought deflated her. He was the most interesting man she had ever met. Complicated and irascible as he was, he drew her, and she had the strangest sensation that her life would be empty without him.

  ‘Will you join me in the drawing-room and give me my revenge at a game of chess?’ asked Mr Ulverstone, as Hilary started to go upstairs.

  ‘Gladly,’ she said, turning her thoughts from their gloomy path.

  Having repaired to her room to take off her outdoor things and replace her boots with soft shoes, she went into the drawing-room. A large fire was blazing cheerfully in the hearth.

  She went over to the side of the room and was about to lay out the chess board when Mr Ulverstone forestalled her by saying, ‘Miss Wentworth, there is something I would very much like to ask you.’

  She turned towards him with an enquiring glance.

  ‘I have thought for some time ... that is, it has not been long, I know, but I feel I know you already. We have had such interesting discussions during our time here, and I have enjoyed our games of cards and chess. Then, too, our occasional rides have been so pleasant ... in short, Miss Wentworth ... ’ Here he went down on one knee. ‘Miss Wentworth, I am asking you to be my wife.’

  ‘Your wife?’ Hilary was dumbfounded.

  He spoke seriously. ‘Yes, my wife.’

  ‘But this is all so sudden ... we hardly know one another ... and you are from London ... ’

  ‘I have taken you by surprise. I knew it would be the way. I have spoken too soon. Believe me, I would have liked to court you properly, but the circumstances are such that, if I do not speak now, after tomorrow I will probably never see you again.’

  ‘Yes, that is so. But please, you look uncomfortable. Won’t you be seated?’ she said, flustered.

  ‘Very well. But only if you promise to hear me out.’

  Hilary consented. Although it had come as a shock, and although she was tempted to refuse him out of hand, she also knew that she owed him a hearing.

  ‘I can understand your surprise, but please believe me, Miss Wentworth, when I say that my feelings are sincere.’

  ‘We have known each other for such a short space of time, and you must have a large choice of more suitable young ladies amongst your London acquaintance,’ she protested.

  ‘It is true that, in terms of rank, I have met many suitable young ladies, but they are shallow and selfish, caring nothing for anything except money and position. I am a man of large fortune, and attract all the worst kinds of attention whilst in town. And if the young ladies are bad enough, their mothers are ten times worse. I have been the target of every matchmaking mama Society has to offer,’ he said with a grimace. ‘Perhaps now you can begin to see why I have not chosen a bride from amongst the ton. I have met any number of beautiful damsels, but I don’t care to be married for my fortune.’

  Hilary nodded thoughtfully. She had not considered the question from that point of view, but now that he had explained it, his proposal seemed easier to understand.

  ‘Whereas you have shown no regard for fortune or rank. You have spoken to me pleasantly and openly, without coquetry - in exactly the same way as you spoke to Mrs Pettifer, in fact. You see me as a person, Miss Wentworth, and not as a man of fortune or position. I know it is too soon to speak of love, we
know each other too little for that, but I have a liking for you, and I believe you have a liking for me.’

  Hilary did not reply. A willingness to join him in a hand of cards or a game of chess was one thing. Marriage was quite another.

  ‘Unfortunately, I cannot marry you,’ she said.

  He looked taken aback. But then his features resumed their charming cast.

  ‘Do not give me your answer now. I will not be leaving the abbey until tomorrow. Think it over, I beg you. I am persuaded your life as my wife would be enjoyable. You would have a house in town, and the means to travel. I will not speak of it any further today, it is for you to decide, but I will hope for a more favourable answer to my proposal in the morning.’

  The door opened, and Mrs Pettifer entered the room.

  ‘Oh, I’m so glad that is sorted out,’ she said, clearly oblivious to what had just passed between Hilary and Mr Ulverstone. ‘Lord Carisbrooke is to send for Mr Chibbins - you know Mr Chibbins,’ she said to Mr Ulverstone, ‘the Reverend Mr Johnson’s curate? He doesn’t live far off, and can preach the sermon on Sunday. But now, my dear, let me finish telling you all about Mrs Hampson and her daughters.’

  Mr Ulverstone, with one last look at Hilary, excused himself as Mrs Pettifer launched into a description of Mrs Hampson.

  ‘Well, my dear, would you like me to tell them you are interested?’ she finished.

  ‘Thank you, that would be very kind,’ said Hilary.

  ‘Then that’s settled. I’ll call on them on my way home.’

  Mrs Pettifer took her leave, and Hilary repaired to the library. She had neglected her work for long enough.

  She set to with a will, taking up where she had left off. As she did so, she thought over Mr Ulverstone’s proposal. There was no doubt about it, if she could have brought herself to accept, it would have made her life much easier. Although she was grateful to Mrs Pettifer for telling her of the Hampsons’ need, they did not want someone for long, and once Mrs Hampson was up and about again she would be forced to seek another place. Even so, that did not mean she could marry a man she did not love.

  For some reason she found her thoughts straying to Lord Carisbrooke. If he had ... but that was ridiculous. Why would an earl propose to a small, plain young woman without a penny to her name?

  As if to emphasise the point, she happened to look up and glance out of the window at that moment, and saw Lord Carisbrooke ... with two elegant ladies. One was young, about twenty-two or three years of age, guessed Hilary, and the other was older, possibly the young lady’s mother. They were dressed in the first stare of fashion. The young lady wore a blue riding habit with gold frogging, which set off her dainty figure to perfection. She wore a beaver hat, perched on her golden curls, and carried a whip. The older lady also wore a riding habit. Hers was of a rich purple hue.

  How had they come there? wondered Hilary, knowing the ford was still flooded. But then she realized they must have crossed at the footbridge, dismounting and leading their horses across.

  ‘ ... mama said we couldn’t possibly come,’ came a silvery voice through the window, ‘but I was not going to let a little rain deter me. "We are promised to Lord Carisbrooke for dinner," I said, "and no flooded fords are going to make me break an engagement".’

  Her mother laughed. ‘Dear Veronica! Always so headstrong! She rules me with an iron hand!’

  ‘Oh, mama!’

  Hilary did not hear Lord Carisbrooke’s reply to this badinage. The small group passed out of sight and hearing, evidently going round to the front door. It seemed the two ladies were to stay to dinner.

  Hilary glanced down at her shabby gown. It seemed shabbier than ever. She did not relish eating dinner with two such exquisitely-attired ladies, and decided it would be better for her to take dinner in her room.

  She put aside the books she was cleaning and went out into the hall.

  ‘Ah, Lund. Lord Carisbrooke has guests for dinner,’ she said. ‘I think it would be better if I took dinner in my room tonight.’

  ‘Guests?’ Lund managed to inject a worldful of suspicion into the word.

  ‘Yes, a young lady and her mother.’

  ‘If that bain’t the limit,’ he grumbled.

  But he had time to say no more. The front door opened and Lord Carisbrooke’s voice bellowed, ‘Lund!’

  Hilary slipped upstairs.

  For all Lord Carisbrooke’s reluctance to have a woman in the abbey, he didn’t seem able to keep them out. First Esmerelda, and now the two elegant ladies who had ridden over. But it was evidently not female visitors he objected to - especially such beautiful ones, she thought with a pang - it was females living in the abbey that he would not tolerate.

  He would not have to tolerate it much longer, she thought, lifting her chin. She would be leaving shortly. As soon as she had an opportunity to have a word with him in private, she would tell Lord Carisbrooke that she had been offered a position with the Hampsons and let him know that she was ready to depart as soon as they should send for her.

  He might not want to offer her lodging until then, of course, for although he had said she could stay until such time as he found her a position, he was unpredictable and might change his mind. But if he turned her out, then she was sure that Mrs Pettifer would offer her a roof over her head until the Hampsons were ready for her.

  She wandered over to the window. It was almost dark. The winter evening was already drawing in, and there were stars in the sky. They gleamed and glistened, casting their ethereal light over the ground below. It was a restful scene.

  Until something broke the peace. It was a knock at the door. Thinking it must be Lund, she called, ‘Come in.’

  But when the door opened, it revealed Lord Carisbrooke.

  He had changed his clothing, making some small concession to evening. His tailcoat was blue, and was adorned with brass buttons. His breeches were cream, and his shirt was white. But even so, he wore his clothes. They did not wear him.

  His expression was angry, his eyes dark and turbulent.

  ‘What’s all this about taking dinner in your room?’ he rumbled.

  Ah! So that was it.

  ‘I thought, as you had guests, I would —’

  ‘Skulk up here on your own?’ he demanded.

  ‘Relieve you of my presence,’ she returned, lifting her chin. She had learnt from experience that she must stand up to Lord Carisbrooke. He was a strong man, and courage was something he respected.

  But instead of exploding with a customary Harumph! he asked, ‘What makes you think it would be a relief?’

  There was something in his voice that told her it was not an idle question. He really wanted to know. Very well, she would tell him.

  ‘The fact that you have done your best to avoid me over the last few days,’ she replied calmly. But her calmness was misleading. She had been disappointed to see so little of him, and although her head told her it was a good thing, her heart told her otherwise. ‘You have made your feelings about me perfectly clear.’

  He looked at her intently, and she felt herself grow hot with the sudden fire she saw in his eyes.

  ‘I certainly hope not,’ he said, his voice a low growl.

  The words seemed double edged, but she did not dare to ask what he meant. The atmosphere was becoming charged with some potent force that she did not understand and could not control. The air, which a moment ago had been thin, was now thick and heavy, and she was finding it difficult to breathe.

  With an effort, she wrenched her eyes away from his and went over to the window. She flung it wide, taking in a deep draught of fresh air. She knew she should continue their conversation, but her heart was beating too rapidly for comfort, and besides, she was being tormented by the memory of him sweeping her off her feet again ...

  Breathing in deeply, she at last mastered her emotion enough to turn the conversation into less dangerous channels. ‘Lord Carisbrooke, I have no wish to embarrass you in front of your guests —’ sh
e began firmly.

  ‘You seem to forget that you are one of my guests.’

  ‘Not in the same way,’ she returned. ‘They were invited —’

  ‘Miss Palmer has never been invited to Carisbrooke Abbey in her life. She doesn’t concern herself over such niceties, and if she wants to come, she invites herself. She is pleased to think that she was engaged to dine here because at our last meeting she said she would wait upon me as soon as her mother recovered from a slight indisposition, and remarked that it would be wonderful to have dinner in the abbey. More than that was never said.’

  ‘Nevertheless, they are —’

  ‘What?’

  His eyes were fixed on hers, as if he was challenging her to put the facts into words.

  Her heart misgave her. But then she rallied. If he was determined to make her say it, then say it she would. ‘Of a different sort. Beautiful, elegant —’

  His eyes smouldered. ‘Whereas you are not?’

  She should agree, but her voice for the moment deserted her.

  His eyes never once left hers. ‘No - thank God. You are stubborn and headstrong, and completely uncontrollable, but beautiful and elegant you’re not.’

  She felt a twist of pain. It was one thing to know it herself, it was quite another to have it spoken of, and spoken of by Marcus. As he stood there looking at her, his hands clenched by his sides and his eyes burning with some unnamed emotion, she was overwhelmed by a sudden desire to be the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, a breathtaking vision with golden ringlets and ivory skin, cornflower eyes and rosebud lips; an alluring damsel clothed in the finest silks and the most expensive laces, who would make him fall at her feet.

  But this was folly! She would never be such a vision.

  Her plainness had never troubled her before, but now it was a cause of great regret. She was, and always would be, a little, plain woman, shabbily dressed in old-fashioned clothes.