The Scarlet Gown Read online

  ‘There is a lovely duet from The Magic Flute here somewhere,’ cried Caroline, pulling more music from a cupboard. ‘It would suit you both beautifully—’

  ‘Not tonight,’ said Ralph firmly. He signalled to his brothers-in-law to come forward. ‘We have performed, and now it is your turn to join your ladies.’

  Lucy had enjoyed herself far too much. The way Ralph had smiled at her had made her pulse race again, disastrous for her peace of mind. She went over to sit next to Ariadne on the sofa. It was only large enough for two and Ariadne’s ample frame took up most of the space, so she would be able to enjoy the singing without being distracted by Ralph’s disturbing presence.

  However, when the couples had agreed who would sing, and Caroline had replaced her sister at the piano, Ralph came across and perched himself upon the arm of the sofa beside her. Lucy kept her gaze fixed rigidly on the piano, but she was very much aware of his thigh so close to her shoulder. He leaned back and rested his arm on the back of the sofa, his fingers playing with the curls at the nape of her neck.

  It was all very nonchalant, if a little daring, for a gentleman to lounge in such a manner so close to a lady, but at an informal house party, and when the lady in question was his fiancée, Lucy knew no one would object.

  She sat upright, removing her curls from his reach, but her skin still tingled at the knowledge that his fingers were so close and, even more disturbingly, she was very aware that no more than a few inches and a thin covering of kersey separated her from that long, muscular thigh.

  Her mind was in turmoil. She had no idea what was sung, or even how long it went on. Part of her wanted it to be over so that Ralph would get up and move away.Another part of her, a much more invidious part, wanted it to go on for ever so that she might lean back again and feel those strong, lean fingers playing with her curls, perhaps even caressing the back of her neck.

  * * *

  The singing ended. Ralph eased himself off the arm of the sofa and walked over to congratulate the performers. Lucy told herself she was delighted, relieved. Margaret returned to the piano to play a sonata and the others disposed themselves gracefully around the room. It was a warm evening, and Sir Timothy threw open the long windows and stepped outside. It was growing dark, and a servant entered with a taper to light the candles. Lord Wetherell invited his lady to accompany him onto the terrace and watch the bats. For the first time Lucy saw Caroline show signs of nerves.

  ‘Bats—horrid creatures! They swoop upon one so silently.’

  ‘But I shall be there to protect you,’ murmured her husband, holding out an imperious hand. ‘Come along, Caro.’

  They wandered out. Ariadne went off to tidy away the music and Lucy was left alone on the sofa. Ralph sat down beside her.

  ‘No, please do not go.’ He put his hand on her arm as she went to get up. ‘I enjoyed singing with you.’

  ‘Did Helene sing?’ The question was out before she could stop it.

  ‘Of course. She was most accomplished.’

  He removed his hand and her skin felt cold where his fingers had rested. Lucy suddenly felt very depressed. One could not compete with a dead love. Compete? The very idea was ludicrous. She was an employee, little more than a servant. Ralph would never think of her as anything else.

  ‘I should retire.’

  ‘But it is early yet.’

  ‘I am very sleepy.’

  She rose, and Ralph followed her to the door.

  ‘I will escort you—’

  ‘No, please—’ She turned, knowing tears were not far away. ‘I would prefer to be alone. Please remain with your family.’

  He raised her hand to his lips, and the now-familiar heat shot through her veins. She said, to distract herself, ‘We have more guests arriving tomorrow. I will need to have my wits about me for that.’

  ‘You managed very well tonight.’

  She glanced down. The skirts of her midnight-blue silk looked black in the dim light. Mourning colours for a dead wife. She raised her head, forcing a smile.

  ‘I am doing what you employed me for, my lord.’

  He did not correct her, and she went out, closing the door quietly behind her.

  * * *

  ‘Ralph, where is Lucy?’ Margaret called across the room as she closed the lid of the piano.

  He had no idea how long he had been standing at the door. Long enough to imagine Lucy crossing the hall and climbing the stairs, her silken skirts whispering about her and the little silver stars in her hair twinkling in the light of her bedroom candle.

  ‘She has gone to bed.’ He added lightly, ‘No doubt you have tired her out with your endless questions.’

  ‘Pho, we have been unusually restrained,’ Meg retorted, coming across the room and taking his arm. ‘There are so many questions we could have asked. Such as, why have you chosen a woman who looks so much like your late wife?’

  ‘She would not have been able to answer that.’

  ‘No, but you can.’ She squeezed his arm. ‘Well, Ralph?’

  ‘She is nothing like Helene.’ He saw Margaret’s cynical smile and shrugged. ‘Very well, there is a passing likeness.’

  ‘Helene is gone, Ralph. You cannot bring her back.’

  Margaret was the sister nearest to him in age and temperament. He was not used to seeing sympathy in her eyes, but it was there as she murmured the quiet words.

  ‘I have no wish to bring her back,’ he muttered. ‘I just want—’ He stopped. This was his burden, and he would not share it. Instead, he smiled at his sister. ‘I want you and Caro to look after Lucy. This house party will be something of a trial for her.’

  Chapter Eight

  Lucy rose early the following morning. After a night’s repose nothing seemed quite so bad and she decided to go out. She dressed quickly, but when she went downstairs she found that Margaret and Caroline were before her.

  ‘Ah, so you are going out walking, too,’ Caroline greeted her cheerfully when she met them in the hall. ‘We are going to Druids Rock. Will you join us?’

  The prospect of congenial company was too tempting. The three ladies went off together, the sisters setting a brisk pace, which suited Lucy very well.

  ‘This is a favourite walk of ours,’ said Caroline as they headed for the wicket gate on the far side of the lawn.

  ‘Really? Even after the accident?’

  ‘Well, that was very sad, of course,’ said Margaret. ‘We always spare a thought for Helene when we go this way, but we enjoy the walk, and the views from Druids Rock are spectacular.’

  ‘Besides,’ said Caroline, ‘I am sure many dreadful things have happened there in the past. The Druids, you see.’ She lowered her voice and said with relish, ‘Dark deeds, sacrifices and satanic rituals!’

  ‘Hush, Caro, you know that is all nonsense. Pay no heed to my sister, Lucy. She has a penchant for horrid mysteries and Gothic tales.’

  ‘But you must admit it does add a touch of excitement,’ said Caroline. ‘Oh! What has happened here?’

  They were approaching the gate into the old ride, and Lucy looked up with some surprise. The trees had been cut back, allowing the sunlight to pour onto the path.

  ‘It has been opened up,’ cried Caroline. ‘And about time, too. Now we shall be able to ride this way again. This must be for you, Lucy. Ralph told us you are a bruising rider.’

  Lucy blushed and shook her head, wishing he did indeed care enough to do such a thing for her.

  ‘And the undergrowth has been cut back so we can walk three abreast,’ declared Margaret, linking arms with her companions. ‘It is quite shocking how overgrown it had become in the past couple of years. Since Helene did not ride much this path was rarely used, but after the accident Ralph closed the gate and never came this way any more.’


  ‘Accident!’ Caroline gave a snort. ‘Everyone knows she killed herself.’ When Margaret protested she waved her hand. ‘It is best that Lucy knows the truth, Meg, if she is going to live here. It was recorded as an accident, of course, but Helene must have been very distressed to go out without changing her gown.’

  ‘You think she was distraught?’ asked Lucy, curiosity overcoming her reluctance to discuss the matter.

  Margaret looked at Caroline.

  ‘We think she and Ralph had quarrelled that day,’ she said. ‘Or rather, that he had upbraided her, for she was such a soft little thing she never argued with anyone. There was a brittle quality to her at the play that evening, and Ralph was looking decidedly grim. At the end of the night we all thought Helene had gone to bed. Of course with so many people in the house it was all noise and confusion, and it wasn’t until the following morning we discovered she had gone out.’

  ‘It was quite dreadful when her body was brought back to the house,’ added Caroline. She gave a shudder. ‘I have never seen Ralph so pale. And later, after dinner, he had the most terrible row with Adam.’

  ‘Adam Cottingham,’ queried Lucy. ‘His heir?’

  ‘Yes. We were all gathered in the drawing room, and Adam had clearly been imbibing far too freely, for suddenly he burst out, “You are to blame. You pushed her to this, you cold devil. If she had not married you she would still be alive!” And Ralph never said a word. He just stood there, that closed look on his face—you know the one, Sis—until Adam stormed out of the room.’

  ‘That is right,’ nodded Margaret. ‘And Ralph said, in the quiet way he has, “He is right.” And then not another word upon it.’

  ‘So he blames himself for her death,’ muttered Lucy.

  ‘Yes, but he should not,’ declared Caroline. ‘No one could have been more kind or forbearing, and you will know by now that that is not Ralph’s nature. He went out of his way to look after his wife. Helene was very mild-mannered and kind to a fault, but she had no spirit. She crumbled at the first hint of disapprobation.’

  ‘Caro—’

  ‘It’s the truth, Meg. Oh, everyone loved Helene and I believe she was determined to be a good wife, but she was unhappy. Ralph did his best, as soon as he realised what a nervous little thing she was he did everything in his power to set her at her ease. We never heard him raise his voice to her, did we, Meg?’

  ‘No, he was most forbearing.’

  ‘It’s my belief she was unstable,’ remarked Caroline, considering the matter. ‘She would burst into tears at the slightest provocation. I found her extremely tiresome, and I only saw her occasionally. How Ralph kept his temper with her I do not know!’

  ‘Caroline!’

  ‘Well, Meg, it is most unfair that Ralph should be blamed because she jumped off the rock.’

  ‘No one blames him,’ said her sister. ‘But he blames himself and has been punishing himself quite dreadfully. He even declared that he would never marry again, and I am thankful that he has thought better of that decision! We are so glad that he has brought you to Adversane, Lucy, and that he is hosting another house party. It is a sign that he is getting over it at last!’

  ‘Is he?’ Lucy tried to smile, but all she could think of was the portrait of Helene in the scarlet gown, and all those dresses he had insisted she should wear.

  * * *

  They walked on in silence, over the pretty bridge and onto the moors. The sun was climbing and by the time they reached Druids Rock it had burned off any remaining mist from the valley. They scrambled up onto the rock and the two sisters pointed out various landmarks to Lucy: the paddock where Greg had taught them to ride, the old ruin on the hill where they had played hide and seek and the neat property on the edge of Ingleston where Ralph’s steward lived.

  ‘Harry Colne is Ralph’s oldest friend,’ said Margaret. ‘They used to go everywhere together as boys, fishing, hunting, riding—and here, of course. This was always one of their favourite places.’

  ‘And ours, too,’ said Caroline. ‘This was our castle, or a pirate ship, or whatever we wanted it to be.’ She laughed. ‘Do you remember, Meg, when the boys were climbing the south face and Ralph fell and broke his collarbone?’

  ‘Lord, yes. Papa was so angry. Said it served him right for being careless. Oh, it was not that he didn’t love us,’ she added, catching sight of Lucy’s startled face. ‘As soon as Ralph was well enough he brought him here and taught him the correct way to scale the rock.’

  ‘That was Papa’s way,’ explained Caroline. ‘He was kind, but not a great one for displays of affection. Ralph is very like him—even more so, in fact, because once he inherited the title he had such responsibilities on his shoulders that he became quite serious and lost his sense of fun...which perhaps explains why Helene found him so difficult to live with.’

  Silence followed her words, broken only by the sighing of the wind, until Margaret jumped to her feet.

  ‘Breakfast!’ she declared, making her way off the rock. ‘Then we must prepare for the arrival of the Prestons, and Adam and his wife.’ When they were on the track again she took Lucy’s arm, saying cheerfully, ‘We are so very glad you are here, Lucy. We really could not like the thought of our cousin inheriting Adversane.’

  ‘Oh?’ said Lucy. ‘I met him earlier this week. He seemed a very pleasant gentleman.’

  ‘Oh, he is pleasant enough,’ said Caroline. ‘And very charming, if you like that sort of thing, yet he is not the man to fill Ralph’s shoes. But now that Ralph is going to marry you,’ she ended sunnily, ‘we need no longer worry about that. Come, let us get back for breakfast. There is nothing like a good walk to sharpen the appetite!’

  * * *

  ‘I’d forgotten what a noisy family I have.’

  Ralph entered the breakfast room to find everyone gathered there and he hardly expected to be heard above the clatter of dishes and cheerful voices.

  ‘Good morning, Ralph.’ Margaret waved her fork at him. ‘Will you join us? There are still some eggs and ham left, I think, and the most delicious pie, if Timothy has not taken the last piece.’

  ‘Thank you. I broke my fast at Ling Cottage,’ Ralph said, smiling at the merry scene.

  ‘And how is Harry, and Francesca, his lovely wife? Will they be joining us for dinner?’ Caroline turned to Lucy. ‘Harry is more like family than Ralph’s steward, but he is very busy with his own life and can rarely be persuaded to dine here.’

  ‘Well, you will be pleased to know I have, er, persuaded them to come along tonight,’ Ralph informed them.

  His eyes rested on Lucy, noting the colour in her cheeks. He had seen her going off with his sisters that morning, and thought how much better she looked for the exercise. So much brighter than last night, when the sadness in her eyes had unsettled him. ‘I came to ask Miss Halbrook if she would spare me a few moments when she has broken her fast.’ All the female eyes turned on him, full of rampant curiosity. He felt obliged to add, ‘There has been a delivery for her.’

  ‘For me?’

  She looked quite delightful, with the colour mounting to her cheek and her eyes wide with astonishment.

  ‘A surprise,’ declared Caroline. ‘Do wait a moment, Lucy my dear, and we will all come with you.’

  Ralph frowned.

  ‘You will not!’

  ‘Is it a secret, Ralph?’ Lucy’s eyes were upon him, green and luminous with shy anticipation.

  ‘No, of course not.’

  ‘Would it embarrass her if we came along?’

  Margaret’s blunt question made him scowl.

  ‘It should not do so, but I pray Lucy will not hesitate to say if she has had enough of your company for one day!’

  Lucy chuckled at that, a soft, melodious sound that he found immensely satisfying.

  ‘Of cours
e I should,’ she said. ‘But I have no objection to them coming with me to see this mysterious delivery.’

  Ralph was relieved when the gentlemen declared themselves happy to remain and finish their breakfast, but all the ladies rose as one to follow him to the hall. He wished now he had said nothing until Lucy was alone, but he was impatient for her to see what he had bought for her.

  A large packing case rested on the floor next to the table in the centre of the hall. Lucy reached in and lifted out a brown paper parcel. Shaking off the packing straw, she placed the parcel on the table. Ralph unfolded his pocket knife and handed it to her.

  ‘You may need this.’

  He stood back as the ladies gathered around the table, their excited chatter reminding him of family birthdays long ago, when the house had been alive with laughter. Lucy cut the string and turned to give him back the knife, glancing up at him a little uncertainly. If it had been Caro or Margaret they would have had the paper ripped off by now. He gave her a little smile and nod of encouragement. Carefully, she pulled the paper aside to reveal a square rosewood box, inlaid with mother of pearl. As she lifted the lid he heard her gasp.

  ‘A paint box!’ cried Margaret. ‘How delightful—look, Caro, it even has little bowls to mix the colours.’ She laughed. ‘And we had to manage with oyster shells! What a lovely gift, Ralph.’

  ‘I know Lucy brought only her sketchbook to Adversane,’ he explained.

  ‘I have never had anything like this,’ she murmured, gently pulling open a drawer and revealing ranks of coloured paint blocks. She turned to face him. ‘It is very thoughtful of you, Ralph. Thank you.’

  ‘You will be able to take it with you.’ He held her eyes. ‘Wherever you travel.’

  Lucy felt her heart skip a beat at his words. This was nothing to do with Helene. It was a gift for her, something of her own to keep.

  ‘I shall treasure it always.’

  ‘Well, that is no way to thank your fiancé,’ cried Margaret, laughing. ‘You must kiss him, Lucy.’