Chapter Four #2
‘And a great talker. He told me the tales of his endeavours for years and even to this day I can recite many of the generals’ names and the battles that they fought.’
‘What happened to him?’
‘Oh, Lionel dismissed him. He was sick of my admiration for Mr Matthers, I think.’
Reining in his stallion, Phillip Moreland picked his way carefully across to her, the elegant lines of his horse on full display as he dismounted, helping her to do the same. She moved back from him as soon as her feet were on the ground, a rush of warmth making her cheeks glow.
‘Your horse is clearly a fine ride, my lord.’
‘Indeed, though he is not mine. I have a healthy stable at Elmsworth but I have not brought any of the animals from it down with me to London.’
‘Because you do not plan to stay long?’
‘I don’t. I have always enjoyed the country more than the city but there is some business here that I need to attend to.’
Phillip took a breath and tried to relax but today he felt edgy. It was partly because Wilhelmina St Claire looked so very lovely, but it was also a result of not quite knowing what he wanted from this meeting.
‘Which stable do you use for your horses in London, Mrs St Claire?’
‘Oh, none, my lord, for I no longer have any of the horses I kept at Belton. I only hire horses here.’
‘What happened to them?’
‘Lionel’s cousin took them. I think he felt he should have received more from the estate but Lionel had never stipulated it and…’
‘He felt maligned?’
‘He was a man who thought women were less than worthy of any inheritance. Lionel and he had been close once, so…’ She shrugged.
‘If an estate is not entailed it means it may be distributed in any way the owner requests. There can be no fighting over the letter of the law.’
‘Well, that was the trouble really. Mr Simon St Claire thought there was a will other than the one the lawyer produced, an updated will, and a document that allowed him a greater share of everything.’
‘So he was disappointed.’
‘And angry. When he came to Belton Park and took the horses and quite a number of the family heirlooms in the house I felt powerless to stop him.’
‘Damn.’
‘He has never contacted me since, though, which is a relief.’
‘Was there other family?’
‘No, just him, his wife and three sons. It’s not as if he was penniless, but he certainly was not as wealthy as Lionel.’
‘So astronomy paid well?’
She shook her head. ‘Not nearly as well as the metals found in a few of the river valleys of Belton. It allowed Lionel the freedom to dabble at anything he wanted.’
‘And what of you? What did you do?’
‘I rode when I could.’
‘In the hours you were not cleaning the house.’
‘You have listened to me well, Lord Elmsworth. I should be more careful with all that I tell you.’
‘I am not your enemy, Wilhelmina.’
‘I know.’
The air around them changed, a stillness pervading, an awareness of each other that was absolute.
‘My mother believed that home is always a place but I am not sure if that is true. Now I might put more weight on people. I imagine it was like that with you and your wife. I hear the stories of your great love…’
She tailed off into silence.
‘Gretel and I were young when we met, so in effect we grew up together, learned to understand the world through the same eyes until…’ He left a gap and could not continue.
Worry suffused her eyes and Phillip thought this version of Wilhelmina St Claire was a different one than he had seen before.
What had changed? He would have liked to ask, but of course he could not.
‘Where did you learn to ride, my lord?’ Her words were quiet.
‘My father had both my brother and I taught at Elmsworth. Our mother had been afraid of horses, you see, and he wanted us to be different, braver, I suppose, and willing to take risks.’
‘And did you?’
He laughed. ‘Many times and often with dire consequences. I broke my arm one summer and Oliver broke his collarbone soon after. There were other scrapes, too, but nothing quite as painful. What of you? How old were you?’
‘I was twenty-two. It was the freedom of speed that I loved the most at first and then it was the power of it. To go anywhere and be anyone, the wind on your face and your breath whipped into energy. It saved me really because it made everything else bearable, and in the country I did not have to ride side-saddle.’
‘Your honesty always surprises me, Mrs St Claire. Usually people are not quite as forthcoming.’
‘My parents believed in a silent stoicism and my husband thought contemplation of the universe required a great many hours, so when I left Belton and my former life there I decided that the currency of communication was something I needed as much as air and water to stay alive and sane.’
‘I admire such perception of your own needs. Most in society have no understanding of what they require to thrive.’
‘Because they are scared to dream? But it’s not a race, I don’t think. All truths form in time if you just know how to listen. When Lionel died I left Winchester as soon as I was able and took the road to London without once looking back, and have found a place here that I like and that is mine.’
So certain. He wished he could be like that, someone who could forge a path and follow it to become different. But it was a false hope and an impossible one. He was chained to Elmsworth, to its history and to his title and to all that had happened because of it. He took a step back.
‘I have been invited to a masquerade ball to be held at Lord and Lady Duggan’s next week. Are you attending?’
‘I am, my lord. It is one of the bright spots in the Season’s calendar, and a masked soirée is so full of secrets. One can be anything one wants, so there is a certain mystery present, I suppose.’
‘I shall not ask what you shall come as, then, Mrs St Claire.’
‘And if you did I would not tell you.’
‘But I promise I shall track you down there before midnight when the masks are removed.’
She shook her head.
‘The Duggans never insist on that. In fact, they normally discourage any revealing whatsoever and everyone goes home as the character they arrived as.’
‘An interesting concept.’
‘You sound as though you disagree with it.’
‘I should think anyone with half a brain should be able to decipher the identity of most people there.’
‘I imagined that, too, but it is much harder than you might think. A feigned stoop, a pair of gloves, a voice altered in timbre… There are so many ways to become someone else entirely.’
Such words piqued his interest. ‘How would you imagine I could become…incognito?’
She frowned as she considered the question. ‘You are always in black, so a brighter colour might do it to begin with.’
‘And then…
‘Falter a little as you walk. Shorten your steps. Look as though you do not quite fit in.’
He began to laugh again.
‘Powder your hair and put it up in a tight queue. Wear an ill-fitting jacket and boots that look scuffed. Find a mask that covers most of your face, and when you speak, do it in a whisper.’
‘A complete overhaul, then. Nothing left of me?’
‘That’s the goal.’
‘Should I drink?’
‘Only the non-alcoholic punch and very sparingly.’
‘And what of dancing?’
‘Plead a headache if anyone asks you.’
‘Why?’
‘I have seen your notable style and so have others.’
‘Terrible?’
‘The worst. Avoid anyone you are usually seen with…’
She stopped as she said this and began to giggle, a light amusement that turned into laughter, her eyes welling with tears which she wiped away on her sleeve. After a minute of this she took three deep breaths and faced him squarely.
‘On second thoughts I believe nothing you could do to hide would be of any use. People will know you because they will be looking for you. It is the great curse of your position here and of your prolonged absence from an estate and a title that is steeped in gossip.’
‘Well, I think you are wrong, Mrs St Claire. I believe I should be good at hiding in plain sight.’
‘You do?’
‘I have just spent years in the Americas being more people than can be counted on two hands and never once being caught out.’
‘Were you a spy there?’
‘Of course not.’
‘An actor in a circus, then?’
‘No.’
‘A cowboy. A preacher. A gunslinger.’
Phillip could not remember a conversation he had enjoyed more as he shook his head to each one of her outlandish suggestions, and without meaning to he told her the truth.
‘I was simply running away from myself.’
That stopped her mirth as nothing else could and she was quiet. Waiting.
‘A very hard thing to do?’
‘The hardest.’
‘I know that because I did the same.’
He reached out for her hand and brought it into his.
‘Yet now you live well?’
‘I do.’
He looked away but did not drop her fingers. Rather, he cradled them closer.
‘Thank you for today.’ The words were torn from the innermost part of him.
There were more people on the paths now in the distance and he could see his manservant on a horse cantering towards them.
He had asked him to do this to allow him an escape in case…
He cursed under his breath and let her go, the wind rising between them and the sky returning to grey.
Jamming his hands in his pockets, he watched as Bates came closer.
Every time she saw the Earl of Elmsworth Willa was more bewildered. It was if he had a certain amount of hours to give her before some invisible clock struck twelve and like Cinderella he fled away.
From her. From the truth. From a conversation that might expose him.
But his laughter had not been forced and the jesting between them had been…she tried to think of the right word. Real? Genuine? Exhilarating? A connection that had felt just the same as in the kitchens of Elmsworth.
He’d held her hand to warm it against his coat and she’d known the heavy beat of his heart. Steady. Constant. That of a man who had stood against the forces that had been thrown against him and survived.