The Scarlet Gown Page 17

  ‘Try not to let that worry you.’

  She leaned a little closer.

  ‘But it does, Mr Colne! You see, Ralph insists that I wear identical gowns, that my hair is dressed the same as hers. I am very much afraid that he is grieving for his lost love—’

  ‘Ralph never loved Helene, Miss Halbrook. That is a good part of the reason he feels so guilty about her death.’ He smiled, and she found herself blushing, as if Harry Colne had discovered some secret. ‘You need have no worries on that head. Now if you will excuse me, my wife is looking tired. I must take her home.’

  She watched him walk away. Perhaps she should not have voiced her concerns, but she guessed that Harry Colne knew Ralph better than anyone. If he did not believe Ralph had been in love with Helene, then it was very likely to be true.

  And Lucy was surprised how much that mattered to her.

  * * *

  The warm, sunny weather continued and Lucy realised she was seeing Adversane at its best. The atmosphere in the house was relaxed, with the visitors left to amuse themselves for most of the day. Sir James and Lady Preston preferred to remain at the house with Ariadne after breakfast each morning, while the rest of the party went out riding. Ralph rarely accompanied them, attending to business during the mornings so that he could be free to spend the afternoons and evenings with his guests.

  On the second day Caroline suggested they should all go for a walk. Lady Preston declined, and insisted that Charlotte should remain indoors at least until the midday sun had lost some of its heat. It was therefore late afternoon when the party set off, by which time Ralph had finished his business and was free to join them. Lucy was not surprised when Ariadne decided to remain at home and keep Lady Preston company, and Sir James also declared that he would prefer to spend the afternoon in the library with a good book. The others, however, congregated in the Great Hall, eager to be on their way.

  ‘Which way shall we go?’ asked Caroline as they stepped out of the house.

  ‘Oh, to Ingleston, if you please,’ cried Charlotte. ‘We drove through it on the way here, and there were such pretty shop windows that I should dearly like to browse there.’

  ‘So far?’ said Ralph. ‘It is nearly three miles. Are you sure you wish to walk such a distance?’

  Margaret brushed aside his concerns.

  ‘Pho, what is three miles? We have plenty of time to be there and back before dinner. And you may treat us all to a glass of lemonade at Mrs Frobisher’s when we reach the town.’

  ‘We could take the route across Hobart’s Bridge,’ suggested Charlotte, pointing to the wicket gate. ‘It must be a good deal shorter.’

  ‘Past Druids Rock?’ asked Margaret. ‘Are you sure you want to go there, Charlotte?’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ she said blithely. ‘I have not been there since Helene died, but it holds no terrors for me.’ She giggled. ‘Although I confess I should not like to go there at night. It is haunted.’

  ‘Who told you that?’ asked Adam, frowning. ‘It is no such thing.’

  ‘Oh, not by Helene,’ said Charlotte quickly. ‘No, it is by spirits.’ She looked around, her blue eyes very wide. ‘The servants told me. They say that on moonlit nights you can hear the tinkle of fairy laughter at Druids Rock.’

  ‘That would be the packhorse bells,’ said Ralph prosaically. ‘The jaggers often cross the moors by the light of the moon.’

  ‘You are a spoilsport, Brother.’ Caroline laughed. ‘Don’t you know that ladies like nothing better than to be terrified by tales of hauntings and ghosts?’

  ‘Not when one is talking of Druids Rock,’ said Adam, repressively. ‘It does have very tragic associations.’

  ‘Perhaps we should walk somewhere else,’ murmured Judith Cottingham, casting an anxious look up at Adam.

  ‘No, no, if Miss Preston would like to go there we shall do so,’ said Margaret, putting up her parasol. ‘Come along, then, no dawdling!’

  Ralph held out his arm to Lucy, saying with a smile, ‘We have our orders, it would seem.’

  ‘Do you mind?’ she asked, taking his arm.

  ‘Not in the least.’

  ‘I think, upon reflection that I might remain here,’ said Judith Cottingham, giving the group an apologetic smile. ‘It is still very hot.’

  ‘It will be cooler under the trees,’ Margaret pointed out, but Judith could not be persuaded and returned to the house.

  ‘Well, that is very convenient,’ declared Caroline, unabashed. ‘Now we have an equal number of gentlemen and ladies!’

  They all paired off, Ralph’s sisters taking their husbands’ arms while Ralph escorted Lucy and Adam looked after Charlotte Preston. The trees lining the old ride still provided some shade, and when they emerged on the far side, a gentle breeze was sufficiently cool to make walking very pleasant.

  The walk downhill to the town was accomplished in good time and it was a merry party that entered Mrs Frobisher’s store, where the grocer’s wife had set aside a room with tables and chairs for weary shoppers to refresh themselves with tea or cups of hot chocolate in winter, and barley water or delicious lemonade during the hot summer months.

  It did not take long to stroll up and down the High Street, the ladies looking in the shop windows and the gentlemen falling behind to talk amongst themselves, but by the time they set off again the afternoon was well advanced.

  The old road twisted its way steeply upwards through the trees to emerge high above the valley, where the path levelled out and the going was much easier. Their route took them towards the afternoon sun and as they approached Druids Rock it towered over them, shadowed and menacing. The uphill walk had separated the little party. Margaret and Sir Timothy were marching well in advance, followed by Adam Cottingham, who had given his arm to Lucy, while Ralph followed a short distance behind with Charlotte Preston, and Caroline and Lord Wetherell straggled along at the rear. As Adam and Lucy made their way around the base of Druids Rock they heard Charlotte’s youthful giggle behind them, followed quickly by Ralph’s deep laugh.

  Adam smothered an oath.

  ‘How can he be so unconcerned?’ he muttered in a strangled undervoice. ‘I cannot—’

  He broke off and Lucy turned to look at him, startled.

  ‘Whatever is wrong, Mr Cottingham?’

  ‘I beg your pardon, Miss Halbrook. Perhaps I should have kept silent, but it is unbearable. It is beyond anything that he should laugh here, where Lady Adversane died. How can he act so, knowing—?’

  ‘Knowing what, Mr Cottingham?’

  He pressed his lips together, but then, as if the words forced themselves out against his will, he hissed, ‘Knowing that he is responsible for her death!’

  ‘Oh, surely not!’

  She glanced over her shoulder, but Ralph and Charlotte were too far behind to have overheard. Adam continued to speak in a low, angry voice.

  ‘He was besotted with her, but she never loved him, never! And when his demands became too much she fled here to Druids Rock to escape him.’

  ‘Please, Mr Cottingham, I do not think you should say anything more. Especially not to me.’

  Lucy withdrew her arm and began to walk on a little faster.

  ‘But don’t you see?’ Adam lengthened his stride to keep pace with her. ‘You are precisely the person I should speak to. You have the look of her. I noticed it immediately. Do you not see what is happening, Miss Halbrook? He is turning you into his dead wife.’

  ‘Nonsense,’ said Lucy, flushed. ‘There is some slight similarity, perhaps, but—’

  ‘And he is making you in her image,’ he persisted. ‘You dress your hair the way she did. And your clothes—he chose them for you, did he not?’

  They had dropped down to Hobart’s Bridge and were momentarily out of sight of the rest of the party. Adam grab
bed her hand, forcing her to stop.

  He said urgently, ‘Miss Halbrook, I believe you are in danger here. You should go. Leave Adversane, before it is too late.’

  ‘Too late for what? I do not understand you, Mr Cottingham.’

  But at that moment Ralph and Charlotte came into view.

  ‘I cannot tell you here,’ he muttered.

  Lucy began to walk on.

  ‘I do not believe there is anything to tell,’ she said robustly. ‘Mr Cottingham, you have allowed your imagination to run away with you.’

  ‘Perhaps you are right, madam, but I am concerned for you. I would not like you to suffer Lady Adversane’s fate.’

  ‘That will not happen, sir. I am aware that some people think she killed herself because she was so unhappy, but such an action would not be in my nature.’

  ‘Nor was it in hers!’

  They were approaching the trees, where Margaret and her husband were waiting for the rest of the party to catch up. Lucy put her hand on his arm to stop him again.

  ‘What are you trying to say, Mr Cottingham?’ she demanded.

  ‘I think,’ muttered Adam with deadly emphasis, ‘that Adversane deliberately drove her to it!’

  Chapter Ten

  The last few yards to where Margaret and Sir Timothy waited were barely sufficient for Lucy to recover from the horror of Mr Cottingham’s words. She could not believe it. Ralph would not do such a thing. But could she be sure? Her own parents had kept from her the truth about their finances and she had never guessed. Even after her father’s death Mama had said nothing, until the truth could be concealed no longer. And if Mama could hide things from her, how much easier, then, for a man she had known barely three weeks? Lucy moved away from Adam Cottingham and fixed herself with Margaret, engaging her in conversation as they walked back through the old ride and the park.

  Lucy thought perhaps it was her disordered thoughts that made the remainder of the journey uncomfortably hot, but as they made their way across the gardens to the house she noticed the heavy black cloud bubbling up on the horizon.

  ‘We shall have a storm soon, I think,’ opined Margaret, following her glance. ‘Good thing, too. Clear the air.’

  ‘Well, I for one am ready for my dinner,’ declared Lord Wetherell as they all made their way into the house. He took out his watch. ‘And, by Jove, there is barely time to bathe and change. I hope that new-fangled range of yours can cope with supplying so much hot water in one go, Adversane?’

  ‘Of course it can.’ Sir Timothy laughed, clapping his host on the shoulder. ‘Next thing we know he will have found a way to pump it up to the bedrooms, ain’t that so, my boy?’

  ‘I am working on it,’ replied Ralph, smiling a little.

  The party dispersed, and Lucy felt a hand on her arm.

  ‘One moment.’ Ralph detained her. ‘You professed an interest in the orrery. Perhaps you would like to come into the library and see it now.’

  She swallowed. She would much rather not be alone with Ralph at that moment, but short of running away she had no choice. She followed him to the library.

  It was not a room she was familiar with. It was such a large, lofty chamber that until the house party it had been rarely used and she had come in here only to gaze at the thousands of books on display and to choose one of the more popular novels to read. Now she noted that there was a large terrestrial globe beside the desk, and Ralph pointed out to her the odd-shaped lamps positioned on shelves and side tables around the room.

  ‘Argand lamps,’ he told her. ‘They burn oil, but in a way that makes them ten times as bright as any candle. Excellent for reading in the winter.’

  When I will no longer be here.

  In just over a week’s time, the end of the month, she would be gone. Life at Adversane would go on as it always had done but she would not be there to share it. Lucy did not know why she found the thought so depressing.

  Ralph led her to the far end of the room, where the brass orrery stood in the bay window, gleaming in the light. The delicate brass arms stretched out from the circular base, each one carrying a miniature planet or an even smaller moon fashioned from ivory.

  ‘It belonged to my father,’ Ralph explained, coming to a halt before it. ‘I have had it brought up to date to include Herschel’s planet with its two moons, and the extra moons around Saturn. It has a fine clockwork mechanism.’ He grinned. ‘When my nephews are here they like nothing better than to wind it up and watch the planets spin around.’

  He wound it up now, and Lucy watched, fascinated, as the various planets and moons circled the sun in a slow and stately dance.

  ‘Why was Cottingham holding your hand at Hobart’s Bridge?’ Ralph asked. ‘What was he saying to you?’

  He was telling me that you are obsessed with your late wife and that you hounded her to her death.

  Lucy kept her eyes on the spinning globes.

  ‘Why, nothing. Our conversation became a little animated, that is all.’

  He caught her wrist. ‘Was he making love to you?’

  ‘No! Nothing like that.’

  ‘Then what?’

  She should tell him what Adam had said and allow him to defend himself. She should watch his reaction and judge for herself if it was true, but suddenly Lucy was afraid. She did not want to learn the truth. She tore herself from his grasp, saying coldly, ‘It was nothing that need concern you, my lord.’

  ‘Lucy!’

  She drew herself up and met his challenging gaze steadily.

  ‘There is nothing in our contract to say I must report to you every conversation I have, sir. That would be quite unacceptable to me.’

  ‘Your reaction smacks of evasion.’

  ‘And yours of jealousy,’ she flashed.

  His black brows drew together.

  ‘I beg your pardon,’ she said quietly. ‘I am perfectly aware that it is nothing of the kind, but surely your logical mind must tell you that it is perfectly possible for a lady to engage in an innocent conversation with a gentleman?’

  His scowl was put to flight and in its place she saw the gleam of humour in his eyes.

  ‘So you would fight me with logic, would you?’

  Sadness gripped her and she was suddenly close to tears. She said quietly, ‘I would rather not fight you at all, my lord. Now, if you will excuse me, I must change my gown.’

  * * *

  Ralph watched her leave the room, curbing the urge to call her back, to demand she tell him what his cousin had said to her. He did not want to force her; he would much rather that she trusted him enough to confide everything. Yet how could he expect that when he would confide in no one?

  He walked to the window, looking out across the gardens but seeing only Lucy’s distressed face. He wished there was a way to carry out his plan without involving her. He admired her spirit, the dignified way she conducted herself. His sisters liked her, too; that was very clear. He could foresee a stormy time ahead, when Lucy left Adversane. His sisters had made it very plain that they considered Lucy the perfect match for him and would take it very ill when the engagement was terminated.

  As would he.

  The thought came as a shock. Ralph raked his hands through his hair and exhaled slowly. When had Lucy Halbrook changed from being a mere pawn in his plans and become a person? One with so much more spirit than the dead wife he had hired her to impersonate.

  He had married Helene because it was expected of him, because she was beautiful and desirable, but he had known from the start that his heart was untouched. She was so complaisant that he had thought she would make him a comfortable wife, but it had not taken him long to realise the truth, that it was most uncomfortable to be in a loveless marriage, especially to a woman with whom he shared no common interests. And Helene’s t
ruly sweet nature had become a constant barb of guilt. He could give her as much spending money as she desired, but he could not love her, any more than she could care for him. He had resigned himself to the fact that once she had provided him with an heir, they would live separate lives.

  Yet, although he had not loved Helene, he considered it his duty to find out the truth about her death and for that he needed Lucy Halbrook. His own desires were secondary. He frowned. What of Lucy’s desires? Despite her avowed dislike of him, Ralph was convinced she was not indifferent. When he had kissed her he had ignited a fire equal to his own. He had recognised it in her response, even if she would not acknowledge it.

  Ralph squared his shoulders. Perhaps, when it was over and he knew the truth, he could tell Lucy, but would she want anything to do with him once she knew how he had used her? He doubted it, but it was too late to change course now. Much too late.

  * * *

  Lucy had no appetite for dinner, but it was impossible for her not to attend. There were no orders as to her attire, but then, she thought despondently, whatever she wore would be styled upon one of Helene’s evening gowns. Ruthie had laid out a rose silk and she put it on, not even bothering to look in the mirror before she went downstairs.

  In the drawing room Lucy did her best to avoid both Ralph and Adam Cottingham and was relieved to be sitting between Lord Preston and Sir Timothy when they went into the dining room. Not that either of the gentlemen she was avoiding seemed aware of her efforts. Adam sent her no anxious looks, made no attempt to continue their tête-à-tête. Lucy wondered if he had realised the imprudence of declaring his suspicions to Ralph’s fiancée. Yet if that was the case, Lucy thought he should have tried to make her an apology. As for Ralph, apart from the occasional thoughtful glance in her direction he kept his distance and in such lively company the reserve between them went unnoticed.

  After dinner she waited with the other ladies for the gentlemen to join them. To retire early would attract more comment than to sit quietly in the corner. The long windows were thrown wide, but even so there was no breeze to refresh the room and all the ladies seemed a little subdued as they fanned themselves and talked in desultory tones. Lucy stepped outside, watching the sunset and enjoying the slight breeze. She was still there when at last the gentlemen came in.