The Scarlet Gown Read online

  His very reasonable response made Lucy grind her teeth, but she swallowed her irritation and tried to match his cool tone.

  ‘Perhaps the first thing we need to ascertain is why my mother did not accompany me on this visit.’

  ‘If we are keeping to the truth, then you have not told her about me. She thinks you have been employed as companion to some elderly invalid, is that not correct?’

  ‘Well, well, yes, that is what we agreed I would tell her—’

  ‘And it gave you the excuse to remove yourself from your uncle’s unwelcome attentions.’

  ‘I never told Mrs Killinghurst that,’ Lucy retorted, her face flaming.

  Mrs Dean gave a little tut and busied herself with the tea tray, but Lord Adversane merely shrugged.

  ‘It is the truth, is it not? I made a few enquiries of my own before engaging you, Miss Halbrook, and what I learned of Silas Edgeworth did not lead me to think he would be able to keep his hands off a pretty young girl living beneath his roof.’

  ‘Ralph, you are putting Miss Halbrook to the blush,’ Mrs Dean reprimanded him in her gentle way. She handed Lucy a cup of tea. ‘You may be sure there will be nothing like that going on at Adversane, my dear. My cousin may have hired you to prevent his family from importuning him, but his reasons for inviting me to act as your chaperone are to make sure that your stay here is not marred by any impropriety.’ She rose. ‘Now, if you will excuse me for a moment, I must go and check that your trunks have been carried upstairs and everything is as it should be.’

  With a vague smile she bustled off, leaving Lucy alone with Lord Adversane. There was an uneasy silence as the door closed behind her. Lucy’s glance slid to her host.

  ‘I know,’ he said, a measure of understanding softening his hard eyes. ‘She tells you there will be no indecorum here, then promptly leaves us alone. I’m afraid you will have to accustom yourself to it. We are supposed to be engaged, you know.’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  ‘If I have made you uncomfortable then I am sorry for it.’

  His blunt apology surprised her. She put down her cup and, to cover her agitation, she raised her eyes to the fireplace. ‘The overmantel is very finely carved. Grinling Gibbons?’

  ‘Yes. My ancestor paid him the princely sum of forty pounds for it. Heaven knows what it would cost today.’

  ‘If you could find someone skilled enough to do it,’ she replied. ‘My father was an artist, but of course Mrs Killinghurst will have told you. He was a great admirer of the old masters like Gibbons.’

  ‘I am aware of that. And I knew your father.’ Her brows went up and he explained. ‘At Somerset House. It is the home of the Royal Society as well as the Royal Academy. We met there once or twice when I was attending lectures. My condolences for your loss.’

  The words were spoken in a matter-of-fact tone, but Lucy felt the tears prickle at the back of her eyes. Rather than show any weakness she rose and went across to the window, where she stood looking out at the fine prospect, although she saw little of it, her thoughts going back to happier times.

  ‘Papa used to take me to his studio sometimes, and encourage me to try my hand at painting.’

  ‘There are many fine views at Adversane for you to capture.’

  ‘I brought my sketchbook with the intention of doing just that, but as for painting—I enjoy working in oils and watercolours but I do not have Papa’s gift. When I was a child I loved best to curl up in a chair and watch him at work. He had a passion for the picturesque. Vast, dramatic landscapes.’ She thought of the hills and valleys she had seen on her journey. How her father would have loved them. She gave a little shrug. ‘But everyone wanted portraits.’

  ‘From the work of your father’s I have seen he was very good and in demand.’

  ‘You wonder, then, why it is I need to earn a living.’ Lucy bit her lip. She had never spoken of this to anyone, but now felt a need to explain. ‘He drank to excess. And gambled. I only discovered the truth after his death. With his talent, the money he earned might have paid for one or other of those vices and still allowed him to provide for his family, but together...’

  ‘Disastrous,’ he said bluntly. ‘And your mother, did she—was it an arranged marriage?’

  ‘Yes. She had a large dowry. He was a younger son, you see, and needed to marry well. Unfortunately the settlements were badly drawn up and very little was secured upon her. The money was all spent years ago.’

  The room seemed to grow a little darker. The cloud outside the window had thickened and a blustery wind agitated the trees, threatening rain. She turned and came back to the sofa, throwing off her melancholy to say brightly, ‘For all that they were very much in love.’

  So much so that they united to keep me in ignorance of our poverty.

  The swift, unbidden thought twisted like a knife in her ribs.

  * * *

  Ralph saw the sudden crease in her brow and the way she folded her arms across her stomach, as if to defend herself. But from what? Her parents’ happiness? Not all arranged marriages ended in love, as he knew to his cost. Bitterness made him reply more curtly than he intended.

  ‘They were very fortunate, then.’ Her eyes were upon him, questioning, but he did not wish to explain himself. He looked up with relief as the door opened. ‘And here is Ariadne returned. I take it the rooms are in readiness for our guest, Cousin?’ He rose, glad of the opportunity to get away. This young woman unsettled him. ‘If you will excuse me, I have business that requires my attention. Until dinnertime, Miss Halbrook.’

  * * *

  Mrs Dean escorted Lucy to her room, talking all the way. She was very knowledgeable about the house and by the time they reached the upper floor Lucy knew its history, including the improvements made by the fourth baron, Ralph’s father. Lucy let the lady’s chatter flow over her while she tried to take in the stunning beauty of the interior. Baroque carvings and plasterwork vied for her attention with dozens of magnificent paintings.

  ‘And here we are in the Long Gallery,’ said Mrs Dean, puffing slightly from having talked all the way up the stairs. ‘The principal bedchambers lead off the corridor just along here and at the end of the gallery is the passage to the east wing, where all the guests will be accommodated.’

  ‘I have never seen such splendid interiors,’ remarked Lucy. She stopped to watch two servants carefully hanging a large painting upon the far wall, while a third stood back and directed them as to the correct alignment. ‘Has Lord Adversane made a new purchase?’

  ‘No, no, it is not new. I suppose my cousin thought it would look better here.’

  Lucy regarded the painting with some surprise. It was a dark and rather nondescript view of some classical ruins, and looked out of place amongst the portraits of past barons and their wives. Mrs Dean touched her arm.

  ‘Shall we go on?’ She led the way into a dim corridor running parallel to the gallery and threw open a door at one end. ‘The two main bedrooms are here. You will be occupying the mistress’s bedchamber—’

  ‘Oh, but I do not think I should!’

  Lucy stopped in the doorway, but Mrs Dean urged her to enter.

  ‘Lord Adversane thought it necessary,’ she said, closing the door behind them. ‘If my cousin truly intended to make you his wife then this is the apartment he would choose for you.’

  Lucy’s reluctance must have shown clearly on her face, for Mrs Dean smiled and patted her arm.

  ‘You need have no fear of impropriety, my dear. Believe me, Adversane was not at all happy about putting you in his wife’s room, but he knows it must be so, if his family are to believe he is serious about marrying you. There is a dressing room through that door where your maid will sleep—he has appointed one for you, of course. She has already unpacked your trunk, you see, and has probably gone off to fetch yo
ur hot water.’

  Lucy made no further protest, and when Mrs Dean left her she wandered around the room, taking in her surroundings. The furniture was dark and heavy, the huge tester bed hung with faded brocade and while the walls were covered in a pretty Chinese wallpaper it was of no very recent date. In fact, there was nothing new in the room at all, and nothing to give any clue to the character of the last occupant. The brushes resting on the dressing table were Lucy’s and the linen press held only the meagre supply of clothes she had brought with her. All the other drawers and cupboards were quite empty. One part of her was relieved, for she would have felt even more of an impostor if the chamber had been redolent of the late Lady Adversane. As it was, there was nothing to say this was not a guest room, albeit a very grand one.

  Knowing it would be sensible to rest before the dinner hour, Lucy stretched herself on the bed, determined to go over all the questions she wished to put to her host when they met again, but within a very few minutes she was sound asleep.

  She awoke when the door to her room opened and a shy, breathless voice said, ‘Ooh, ma’am, I’m didn’t mean to disturb you, but Mrs Green says its time I brought up your hot water and made you ready to go down to dinner—’

  ‘That is quite all right.’ Lucy sat up, stretching. ‘You are to be my maid, I take it?’

  ‘Aye, ma’am—miss.’

  ‘And who is Mrs Green?’

  ‘The housekeeper, miss. She sent me up.’ The young girl put down the heavy jug on the wash stand and bobbed a curtsey. ‘And I am Ruthie, miss, if you please.’

  ‘Well, Ruthie, perhaps you would help me out of this gown.’ Lucy slid off the bed. ‘I am afraid it is sadly crumpled and not a little grubby. I have been travelling in it for days.’

  ‘I know, miss. From London,’ said Ruthie triumphantly as she unfastened Lucy’s travelling dress and laid it over a chair. ‘Everyone’s that pleased to see you. Mrs Green says the house has been too long without a mistress.’

  ‘Oh, but I am not—’

  Lucy’s involuntary exclamation had the effect of making the maid jump back, her hands clasped nervously in front of her.

  ‘Ooh, miss, I’m that sorry, I forgot we wasn’t meant to say anything!’

  Lucy gazed in some dismay at the maid’s woebegone face. So word had spread, just as Adversane had planned. She nodded and said gently, ‘Well, do not mention it again. Now, I think I saw my green gown in the press, perhaps you will lay that out for me.’

  It was her only evening gown, a plain robe of French cambric with puff sleeves and a modest neckline. Lucy thought it would look very dull against the splendid interiors of the house, but it was all she had and it would have to do.

  * * *

  Lucy found her new maid very willing and eager to help. Ruthie carried away Lucy’s travelling gown and half-boots, promising to clean them up as good as new, then came hurrying back, determined to help Lucy to dress for dinner. Her enthusiasm was endearing, but Lucy was a little reluctant to let her do more than brush out her hair.

  ‘Oh, but I can do it, miss,’ said Ruthie, as Lucy sat before the looking glass. ‘Lady Adversane’s maid showed me how to dress hair in several styles. O’course that were a couple of years ago now, but I’m sure I can remember.’

  Lucy glanced at the little clock. There was plenty of time to brush it all out and start again, if necessary.

  ‘Very well, let us see what you can do,’ she said, smiling. ‘All I wish this evening is for you to put it up in a simple knot.’

  Ruthie’s face fell. ‘No ringlets, miss?’

  ‘No ringlets.’

  The young maid looked a little disappointed, but she set about her task with a will.

  ‘You were training to be a lady’s maid?’ asked Lucy as Ruthie concentrated on unpinning and brushing out each shining lock.

  ‘Oh, aye, miss, I was. Lady Adversane’s maid broke her arm, you see, so Mrs Green sent me up to help her.’ She gave a gusty sigh. ‘Oh, my lady was so pretty, with her golden curls and blue, blue eyes, like the china doll they keep in the nursery! It was such a pleasure to dress her. I learned such a lot from Miss Crimplesham, too—that was my lady’s maid, you see—she was a tough old stick, and all the servants was a bit in awe of her, even Mrs Green, but she wasn’t so bad when you got to know her, and so devoted to my lady.’

  She paused to look at the honey-brown curls that cascaded over Lucy’s shoulders. Lucy knew she should reprimand the maid for chattering, but she was amused by her artless talk and besides, for one accustomed to looking after herself, it was so very pleasant merely to sit quietly and have someone fuss over her.

  ‘I was hoping that my lady would give me a reference,’ Ruthie continued, beginning to gather up the heavy locks again. ‘So I could become a proper lady’s maid, but then of course there were that terrible accident.’

  ‘Accident?’ Lucy met her maid’s eyes in the mirror. ‘You mean Lady Adversane?’

  ‘Yes, miss. She fell to her death, from Druids Rock.’

  ‘Oh, heavens.’

  Lucy had been wondering how Lady Adversane had died. She had decided she would ask Mrs Dean at some point, for she did not think she would be able to pluck up the courage to ask Lord Adversane.

  She said slowly, ‘How tragic. When did it happen?’

  ‘Two years ago, on Midsummer’s Eve.’ Ruthie nodded, her eyes wide. ‘Oh, ’twas perfectly dreadful, miss! They found her the next morning, dashed to pieces at the foot of the crag. I thought they’d all blame me, at first, for letting her go out alone, You see, I’d fallen asleep in my chair waiting for her to come up to bed.’

  ‘I am sure it was in no way your fault,’ Lucy told her.

  ‘No, that’s what Miss Crimplesham said. In fact, she was more inclined to blame herself. In a dreadful state she was, crying and saying she should’ve waited up for her mistress, but how could she undress her with her broken arm? No, we had a house full of guests, you see, and that night the players had come up from Ingleston to perform, and then after supper there was dancing far into the night, so it was very late before everyone went to bed. Only my lady didn’t come upstairs but went off to see the sunrise, as she often did. Only this time she didn’t wait to change her shoes and her thin little slippers wouldn’t grip on the rock and she slipped and fell to her death.’ The youthful face reflected in the mirror looked sad for a moment, then brightened. ‘And now you’re here, perhaps you’ll keep me on as your maid, miss.’ Ruthie placed the final pin into the topknot and stood back to cast a last, critical look at her handiwork. ‘I’m sure I can pick it up very quickly.’

  Lucy smiled. ‘Have you not learned enough yet, then?’

  ‘Oh, no, not by a long chalk. Miss Crimplesham said it would be months before I had learned enough to even think of offering myself as lady’s maid. She’d started as my lady’s nurse—called her “my baby”, she did—and had spent years learning how to look after her, so even if Lady Adversane hadn’t been dashed to pieces that night it wouldn’t have done no good, for there wouldn’t be time for Miss Crimplesham to teach me everything before they went away.’ Lucy might have thought nothing of this artless speech, if Ruthie hadn’t dropped her hairbrush and stared aghast into the mirror. ‘Ooh, miss, I shouldn’t’ve said that. No one was meant to know. My lady said it was a secret.’

  Lucy held her eyes in the mirror.

  ‘Are you saying,’ she spoke slowly, carefully, ‘that Lady Adversane was planning to...to run away?’

  ‘Yes—no!’ Ruthie’s face crumpled. ‘Miss Crimplesham said I wasn’t to tell no one. She was that angry when she found out my lady had let it slip. Said I should be turned off if I breathed a word of it, and I haven’t, miss. I haven’t said nothing until today, but I got so carried away, pinning up your hair and enjoying myself so much that it just came out.’ As Lucy swiv
elled around on the stool to face her, the girl fell to her knees, sobbing. ‘Pray, don’t tell the master, miss! He’ll be so angry that he’ll turn me off for sure. I’ll be sent off without a character and I’ll never get another position, not even as scullery maid!’

  ‘I promise I shall not tell anyone,’ Lucy assured her. She handed the maid one of her own handkerchiefs and bade her dry her eyes. It behoved her now to send the girl away, but instead she said quietly, ‘It was an arranged marriage, perhaps.’

  ‘Yes.’ The muffled affirmative was followed by Ruthie blowing her nose very loudly. ‘Only M-Miss Crimplesham said her mistress was very unhappy. And once my lady had determined to run away then she had no choice but to go with her, to look after her.’ Lucy’s thoughts raced, and as if reading them Ruthie continued. ‘My lady never loved the master—well, who could? He is so stern and cold, and when he’s angry...’ She shuddered. ‘He frightens me, and I’m not a beautiful, delicate little flower like my lady was.’

  ‘And what happened to Miss Crimplesham after the accident?’

  ‘She went back to my lady’s family. They have another daughter, you see, so she’s gone to be her maid now.’ Ruthie sighed. ‘And I became second housemaid again. And I suppose I shall have to go back to that now.’ She fixed Lucy with an imploring gaze. ‘Only pray don’t tell Mrs Green why you are displeased with me—’

  ‘I have no intention of turning you away,’ Lucy told her, patting her hands. ‘From what I have seen of you so far you have the makings of an excellent lady’s maid, only you will have to learn to curb that runaway tongue of yours.’

  ‘I swear to you, miss, I haven’t said a word to a soul before today—’

  ‘Very well then, we will forget everything that has been said, if you please. Now, you had best remain here until you look a little less distressed. Then go downstairs and have your own dinner. And remember, a good lady’s maid must learn to be discreet!’

  ‘Yes, miss, thank you.’ Ruthie bobbed another curtsey, then impulsively clutched at Lucy’s hand and kissed it. ‘I’ll never open my mouth again, I promise you.’