Chapter Nine
It was a couple of days later when, as they strolled in the garden with the children, Harriet said to her suddenly, “You do know you are invited to attend the wedding and the breakfast?”
“Oh no,” Carina said. “It would not be suitable, and I have nothing to wear.”
Harriet took her arm. “It is perfectly suitable. I would just ask that you keep an eye on the children. Lily will be my maid of honour, but all the girls will attend me, and they are prone to excitement as you know... As for a gown, we still have time to find something you would like. I know nothing of London fashions myself. My gowns are all made from Lady Grandison’s daughter’s! We could easily do the same for you...”
Although uneasy, Carina could hardly refuse the request. And she thought she could probably manage, sitting unobtrusively with the children. Lord Durward had not been mentioned again, so she hoped this meant no one had been able to find him.
Or at least, she told herself that was what she hoped. In fact, she worried where he was, and in spite of herself, a corrosive disappointment seeped into her heart that she would not see him again, even at a distance.
The following day, she received a long-awaited letter from her father. It was brought to her during morning lessons in the schoolroom, and since the children were all quietly at work for once, she sat down at her own desk and read it.
It was written in a straight hand, his sentences coherent if mundane.
He commented on a few of the stories in her own letter, and talked about the weather, telling her little of his own life, except a minor repair to the Marie, which he had carried out successfully on his own, thus saving much of the cost. This served only to sharpen her anxiety, for he mentioned nothing about sobriety or work.
And then came the sentence that almost undid her.
I have seen nothing of young Durward, and I find I miss the scamp.
She set the letter down hurriedly and found all four children watching her.
“It’s not bad news, is it, Miss Jasper?” Alex asked.
“Oh no, nothing like that.” She rose quickly and went to see how they progressed on their assignments.
“ALEX!” LILY EXCLAIMED, shocked to find him bent over Miss Jasper’s desk. She had come back from their trail through the nearby wood, looking at different trees, flowers and insects, in order to find her sketch pad. “Aren’t you supposed to be with Snake, learning about horses and sports?”
“He said to give him five minutes,” Alex replied, colouring. He straightened, revealing Miss Jasper’s recently received letter lying open in front of him. “I am not sneaking,” he added quickly. “I’m just worried about Miss Jasper.”
“Why? Because of that letter?”
“It made her sad. More than sad. Orchid likes her.”
No doubt a stranger would not have seen the connection between his sentences, but Lily understood immediately. Orchid’s affections were rare but fierce and she liked Miss Jasper. None of them wanted her to leave.
“I know,” Lily said, “but we have no right to read her letters.”
His blush deepened. “No. And I wouldn’t have, only she left it there, and the words sort of leapt up at me. And in truth, I can’t find the reason for her sadness. It’s only from her father about weather and ships.” He gave a quick grin. “And he said we sound delightful.”
“Well, that is encouraging, but Alex—”
“I know,” he said, irritated and shame-faced at the same time. “I won’t do it again. Only...why did she look so sad?”
Lily struggled with her conscience. “Did the letter mention no accident or death in the family?”
“No. It didn’t really mention anyone at all, except this Durward character. Why do I know his name?”
“Snake was talking about him the other day, as his possible groomsman... Then Miss Jasper does know him? I thought so... I sense a mystery, Alex. I’ll talk to Harriet later. You ask Snake about him.”
Alex nodded and started for the door while she unearthed her sketch book. “Lily? You won’t tell Harriet, will you? Or Miss Jasper? I really won’t do it again.”
“I know,” Lily said. He wasn’t a sneak by nature, but he was caring, and it was done with the best of intentions. He was right that they should do what they could for Miss Jasper. She gave a quick, conspiratorial grin. “They’re not likely to ask, are they?”
Alex grinned and sped off for the stables.
DURWARD WAS LEARNING first-hand the problems of largely absentee landlords.
He had quite clearly failed to see when things began to go wrong at Gullaine Park and the steward he had appointed began to abuse his position.
Worse, when Durward failed to do anything, the steward had been emboldened and began to feather his own nest with increased rents and unauthorized fines.
Furious, Durward dismissed the man, well aware that the true culprit was not the steward but him.
Whether he had been too trusting or too careless hardly mattered.
The results had been hardship for many and very nearly tragedy.
He therefore had to spend much longer than he had intended on untangling the mess, restoring the original rents and his people’s faith in him.
He had long discussions with the manager of the home farm, old Todd Greengrass, and began to realize the improvements that needed to be made to the land, to his tenants’ property, and, most of all, to his own laissez-faire attitude.
Eventually, he and Greengrass agreed the next steps, and the extra labour to be taken on.
Even then, he only felt able to leave after promising to be back before September.
And if all went well, he would be glad to return with his bride.
.. Though it seemed bad luck to even think those words let alone announce them.
So he kept his marital intentions quiet and finally drove himself back to Harwich.
Approaching the town toward nightfall, he was conscious of an eager anticipation he had never known before.
To see her again, smiling that shy, sparkling smile that always seemed just for him.
.. Would she throw convention to the winds and rush to his arms?
Or pretend indifference? Surely not the latter, she was too honest for that.
He just hoped Captain Jasper had been behaving himself and was in a fit state to give his consent. ..
How soon could they be married? Three weeks from Sunday, surely, if they could induce her local vicar to read the banns, or less if he could obtain a special license. That would involve going to London, though...
Abandoning his horses and curricle at the same inn as before, he bespoke his old room, and paused only long enough to wash, change his clothes, and brush his hair, before striding off to the Jaspers’ house.
Somewhat ominously, there were no lights on in the front parlour. But the usual curtains twitched when he turned into the Jaspers’ front gate, mounted the two steps and knocked on the door. His heart was beating like a schoolboy’s approaching the object of his first obsession.
Smile just once and I will know...
From nowhere, he recalled her response to the first words he spoke to her. Bugger off. His breath caught on oddly painful laughter. Was he assuming too much? Again? He had been so sure she cared, but what if she had changed? What if he had?
Maddeningly, no one answered the door. He grasped the knocker again, only to have it whipped back out of his hand.
Captain Jasper stood there, and he did not look well.
His hair stood on end. Dark, puffy rings encircled his blood-shot eyes and beneath his seaman’s weather-beaten skin he seemed pale and ill. He blinked at Durward several times before recognition dawned.
“Travis! What a pleasant surprise!” The man’s face had lightened. He smiled. But he did not invite him in.
“Got a cup of tea for a weary traveller?” Durward asked, stepping forward.
For a moment, he thought Jasper would hold firm, then the captain gave a resigned little shrug. “I’ll light the candles in the parlour. If there are enough.”
Durward watched him close the front door. “Have you been sitting in darkness?”
“Of course not,” Jasper said irritably. “But I don’t use the parlour when Carina isn’t here.”
Durward paused. “She isn’t here?”
“No, she’s been gone several weeks, now. Gone for a governess in some grand house to the north-west of the county.”
Durward’s heart sank. In fact, it seemed to drop right out of his body with the disappointment. But I told her I would come back... I should have written. Aloud, he said, “Don’t light more candles on my account. I’ll sit with you in the kitchen.”
Jasper cast him a surprisingly clear glance. “You won’t like it. Never had the knack for clearing up.”
That was something of an understatement. Many cups, plates and dirty pots were packed into the sink, giving off an odour of musty old food. A newspaper and a couple of letters had fallen onto the floor and been left there, along with the wrappings of some meal he had probably bought in the tavern.
Worst of all, in front of the only pulled-out chair at the table, stood a full bottle and an empty glass.
Jasper picked them both up and stuffed them into a cupboard.
Only then did Durward realize there were no empty bottles among the general mess.
He could not smell brandy or gin or even ale among the stale scents of the kitchen.
“Sit down, if you like,” said Jasper wearily.
“No, you sit,” Durward said more gently, and pressed him into the chair. “I’ll make the tea. You must have been working all day.”
“I was,” Jasper said, with a brief spark of pride which faded quickly. “It’s hard, though, with her gone... Not much point, you know? I think you came at just the right time. I was going to have a glass...”
The fire was at least built, so Durward lit it, and hung the full kettle over it.