26 Myercroft
T he next morning, Edward took rather a stiff leave of his mother, and once again handed Tess into the carriage. Tess had to admit that her mother was right — Edward’s luxurious travelling carriage was a great deal more comfortable than travelling post. Betty always settled into her seat with a sigh of pure satisfaction, and the baronial arms painted on the door not only afforded them priority on the road, but ensured that they received instant attention from the ostlers at every posting house.
There was no change of horses needed on this journey, for Myercroft was but a few miles from the Priory. They stopped first, however, at Holly Cottage for Edward to talk to his aunt about Tostig, and explain his proposals for the boy.
“I hope you will consider the girls, too,” Tess said as the carriage rolled smoothly along. “They could benefit from a proper governess.”
Edward frowned. “I do not believe there is room in that house for another female.”
“There are rooms in the attic, and a school room, of a sort.”
“I shall discuss it with Aunt Joan, another item to add to the long list of items to be discussed.”
“Shall we arrive at Myercroft this month, do you suppose?” Tess murmured as they turned into the drive of Holly Cottage.
She was rewarded with the glimmer of a smile from Edward. “I shall be as quick as I can,” he said. “Will you come inside? There will be a fire to warm you.”
“I am not cold,” she said, for although the morning had begun with a sharp frost, the sun was now shining enticingly. “I shall walk about the gardens, I think, to stretch my legs. I will not go far, not beyond hailing distance.”
He nodded, the smile widening a fraction. “I wish I could go with you. Enjoy the sunshine.”
It was a welcome sign that his mood was improving.
There was nothing in bloom in the wilderness of a garden. The flower beds were choked with weeds, and the crunch of the path under Tess’s boots owed more to fallen leaves than to the gravel beneath. Tess recalled the neatness of the grounds at Apstead House, and Mrs Mayberry’s enthusiastic work with a trowel, but there was no sign of interest in the gardens here. A strip of lawn was more mud than grass, and in the distance was something that might once have been a pond, but was now so overgrown that it was hard to make out at all. As she turned a corner, she saw a lone gardener tending the vegetables.
Still, it was pleasant to walk in the crisp autumn air, the sun adding enough warmth that even Betty, following dutifully behind, had nothing to grumble about.
Of course, her thoughts turned instantly to Edward, who seemed to have accepted her rejection finally, and was now turning to his heir. How sensible of him to— Sensible! What was happening to her? Here she was, a person who had always revelled in her own idiosyncrasies, admiring Edward for taking the sensible option! She, who tried never to be sensible if it interfered with her comfort. If she were sensible, she would never even have thought of marrying Tom or Ulric. The sensible course would have been to marry Edward. But then, if she had been sensible, she would never have set her sights on Ulric, Edward would not have come tearing up from London to protect his cousin, and they would never have been thrown together. What a strange, dull life it would be, if she were sensible.
She had seen enough of the unkempt garden and made her way back to the carriage. Edward arrived shortly afterwards with Mrs Jack clinging to his arm, crying piteously. He shook her off, not unkindly but firmly, made his farewell and the carriage set off for Myercroft.
“Is she upset at the prospect of Tostig being sent away to school?” Tess said.
Edward’s face softened into a tiny smile. “Oh no. She is quite happy for me to spend money on her sons. She is cross because she has not been invited to Myercroft.”
“Why has she not been invited?”
The smile broadened. “Because she steals things.”
That made Tess laugh. “Oh dear. Although it was her home for many years, so I suppose she regards the contents as hers.”
“That is a generous interpretation. She is a grasping avaricious woman who will destroy Ulric’s inheritance if left unchecked.”
“I depend upon you to check her,” Tess said.
He only grunted.
As they turned into the drive of Myercroft, he said, “Ulric has been here for three days, and there is no knowing quite how he will take your arrival. Will you allow me to take the lead in dealing with him?”
She agreed to it, and leant forward to catch the first glimpse of the house. Having only visited the stables before, she had not yet seen the front facade in its full glory from the carriage drive. It was a fine house, it was true, not as large as the Priory but with greater symmetry and well maintained. The hedge surrounding the turning circle was neatly trimmed, the drive free of weeds and the windows sparkled in the autumn sunshine.
Servants emerged at once to attend to them, followed by three people whom Tess had no difficulty in identifying as Sir Ernest and Lady Peterson, and Miss Peterson. Lady Peterson was as plump as her daughter, whereas Sir Ernest was thin to the point of emaciation. The ladies were dressed in the latest modes, but his coat was of the full-skirted style fashionable twenty years earlier and he wore the sort of wig that made him look like an attorney.
They smiled and were perfectly amiable to Tess, however, displaying no resentment at the disruption her coming heralded. Lady Peterson and her daughter both accompanied Tess to her room, a charmingly appointed chamber overlooking the terrace and pleasure grounds full of pleasantly winding paths.
“Your garden is enticing me out of doors,” Tess said. “So many charming walks! Would it be very rude of me to wish to explore at once?”
“You couldn’t have paid me a greater compliment,” Lady Peterson said, her face lighting up. “The garden is my passion, I confess, and I spend many happy hours out there, winter and summer alike. I’ll fetch my cloak and bonnet, and we may take a turn together. Fanny, will you join us? Your father will be entertaining Lord Tarvin in the library if you prefer to stay close to a fire.”
“I’ll come with you,” she said. “We could walk past the stables if you wish to see Ulric, Miss Nicholson.”
Mindful of Edward’s words, Tess said, “I shall see him later. The garden first, if you please.”
Miss Peterson looked disapproving at this casual disregard for Tess’s betrothed, but she and her mother were soon equipped with warm outdoor clothing, and leading the way to the garden.
Lady Peterson had not exaggerated in saying that the garden was her passion. She could name every plant, and recite its history, what it offered of flower or fruit and the best season for each. Even the pests to which each was prone, and the remedy thereof, she knew and was happy to describe, until Tess’s head was spinning. They walked about here and there, and eventually came to the furthermost point of the flower garden, which ended in a low wall with a gate set in it, providing access to the meadow beyond.
A horseman could be seen cantering across it, heading at first directly towards the stables, but seeing their party, he diverted and rode directly towards them. Tess knew with a sinking feeling that she was about to meet her betrothed again, and without Edward’s reassuring company.
“Fanny!” Ulric shouted across when he was still some distance away. Then, as he drew near, he wheeled the horse and leapt from the saddle. “Lady Peterson! Fine day!” He glanced at Tess, looked slightly puzzled, and then turned back to Fanny. “Fine day, Fanny. Good riding day.”
“Every day is a good riding day to you, Ulric. Here is Miss Nicholson come to see you. She is to stay at Myercroft for a while, too, remember?”
Again, he turned bemused eyes on Tess.
“Good day, Cousin Ulric.” She curtsied. “I am come to talk about our wedding, as I am sure your mama explained.”
“Wedding…”
“Your wedding to Miss Nicholson, Ulric,” Fanny said. “Once you’re married, you’ll be able to live at Myercroft all the time and think how pleasant that will be.”
His frown lifted. “Like to live at Myercroft.”
“Of course you would,” Fanny said.
“Like to live at Myercroft,” he said again. “Always good dinners here. Like to play Beat the Knave with you, Fanny. I like that game.”
“And so do I, Ulric, but I shan’t be here once you are married to Miss Nicholson.”
The frown returned. “You going away, Fanny? Don’t want you to go away.”
Fanny threw Tess a sideways glance, as if to say, ‘You see what disruption you are causing?’ But she only said quietly, “Not for a while yet. We can still play Beat the Knave.”
“You will have to teach me how to play the game,” Tess said brightly. “Perhaps you can show me after dinner tonight.”
His frown deepened. “You staying for dinner? Why?”
“I am staying at Myercroft for a few days just like you, Ulric,” Tess said evenly. “We can talk about our wedding, and you can show me around the house.”
He smiled. “Show you around the house, cousin. Fine house, Myercroft.”
“I can see that it is,” Tess said. “Enjoy your ride, Ulric. I shall see you at dinner, if not before.”
He nodded, remounted and rode off. Tess heaved a sigh of relief to have brushed through the first meeting without disaster.
“He has forgotten all about me,” she said, with a quick laugh. “What a set-down for me!”
“No, he hasn’t forgotten,” Fanny said seriously, as they turned towards the house once more. “He knows he’s betrothed to you, and he remembers you well enough, for we’ve been talking to him about you ever since he arrived. But seeing you out here, and unexpectedly — that’s something which throws him. If he’d met you in the drawing room, having been warned in advance that you would be there, he would have had no difficulty.”
“Lord Tarvin said something of the sort, too. He wanted to be present when Ulric and I first met, so that he could smooth things over, but you managed it beautifully, Miss Peterson.”
“Fanny gets on very well with Ulric, don’t you, dear?” Lady Peterson said. “She’s the ideal person to advise you on the best way to manage him.”
“He doesn’t need to be managed, Mama,” Miss Peterson said, flushing slightly. “He’s perfectly sensible if he’s not taken by surprise.”
Sensible… that word again. Ulric was sensible, but Tess was not.
Oh, this was madness! What was she thinking of, marrying a man like Ulric Frith?
The answer was instantaneous. Her fortune. She was thinking of her fortune. The thought of it stiffened her resolve.
Lady Peterson wished to speak to the gardeners on some matter regarding some danger to her precious plants — thrips, it might be — so Fanny and Tess walked back to the house alone. Tess thought it politic to address head on the matter that most pricked her conscience.
“Miss Peterson, I am deeply grateful to you and your parents for the welcome you have accorded me today, and your forbearance in what must be a very difficult situation for you. I would not have you removed from your home if there were any other way of proceeding, but I understand how distressing it must be for you all.”
“For Mama, perhaps,” she said. “She’ll miss this garden so much. There’s scarcely a shrub or flowering plant that she hasn’t planted and nurtured with her own hands, and the prospect of starting again in a new garden is one she dreads. As for my father, he has good friends amongst our neighbours here that he will be loath to leave behind. He loves his card parties, and he’s a beloved figure to all the tenants. But for myself — a house is just a house, Miss Nicholson. It’s not the loss of Myercroft that upsets me. It’s Ulric’s future that gives me sleepless nights.” She stopped abruptly and clutched at Tess’s arm. “You will look after him, won’t you? Take good care of him for me. Stay with him, play his simple card games, ride with him, because if you simply marry him and then leave him here, he’ll have no friends looking after him. His trustees will be gone, and I’ll be gone, too. He needs someone to take care of him, and protect him from—”
She stopped, biting her lip.
“From his mother,” Tess said crisply. What was it about mothers that made them such a trial to their children? It was an excellent argument for never having children.
“I shouldn’t have said that,” Miss Peterson said. “I shouldn’t even have thought it. That was very bad of me.”
“I have asked Lord Tarvin to continue his watchful care on Ulric after his marriage,” Tess said. “He will not be a trustee any longer, but I believe Ulric can be persuaded to permit him control of his affairs.”
“But he won’t be here!” Miss Peterson said with a flare of passion. “Ulric needs a friend always by his side. Lord Tarvin lives in London, or else at his own house. Even as trustee, he only comes here a few times a year. Papa takes care of the day-to-day management of the estate. If you were to live here… but you’ll marry him to fulfil the terms of your father’s will, and then abandon him.”
Tess could hear the bitterness in her voice. “It is true that I do not care for Ulric in the same way that you do,” she began hesitantly.
“Nobody cares for him as much as I do,” Miss Peterson said, subdued suddenly. “I wish with all my heart that I could stay with him. If I’d known he wanted to marry, I’d have married him myself, and I think… I truly believe that would have been better for Ulric. Forgive me for speaking plain, but it’s what I think.”
***
F or several days, Lady Peterson painstakingly showed Tess over the whole house, from the kitchens in the basement to the lumber rooms in the attics, and from the crimson saloon, kept only for the most formal occasions, to the balcony of the clock tower on the roof. She saw the coal, wine and silver stores, looked into the linen cupboard, was formally introduced to the butler, housekeeper and cook, had the workings of the still room explained to her and was shown the account books. She even saw the nursery, empty but immaculately clean and ready for occupation. For a strange moment, Tess had a vision of it filled with children, but not with Ulric’s golden hair. Instead, it was Edward’s stern visage that rode the rocking horse and played spillikins. How odd.
Outside, she toured the stables, and won the respect of the head gardener by admiring the still fruitful kitchen garden. In the evenings, she played cards with Ulric. He still frowned at her if he met her somewhere unexpected, and once he yelled, “What are you doing here?” at her, but luckily Miss Peterson was with her, and able to smooth things over. Otherwise, in the dining and drawing rooms, at least, he called her ‘Cousin Tess’ and seemed to understand that he was shortly to be married.
Yet Tess herself was less and less sure of it. Miss Peterson’s words echoed in her head — ‘I’d have married him myself, and that would have been better for Ulric’. Tess could not find any point of disagreement. Yet this was the only way to have both her fortune and her freedom.
One afternoon, Edward had gone out riding with Ulric, and the Peterson ladies were out in the garden, accompanied by a pair of gardeners. Tess found a sheltered spot on the terrace and, wrapped in her warmest shawl, watched the little group crawl from one flower bed to the next. Footsteps behind her caused her to turn her head, but it was only Sir Ernest, emerging from his library in daylight hours for once.
“May I join you?” he said. When Tess assented, he sat on the other end of the bench she occupied, but he said nothing, seeming content to watch the party in the garden, just as Tess was.
“What are they doing, do you know?” she said. “They seem to spend an age over one plant, then they move along a little way, and begin again.”
“Lady Peterson is selecting plants which she wishes to take with her when we leave Myercroft,” he said. “Not the whole plant, necessarily, but seeds or cuttings. Favourite blooms that she would miss greatly.”
“How you must hate me,” Tess said sadly.
“Not in the least, I assure you. Myercroft is Ulric’s house, and if he wants it back, he must have it. We cannot stay here once he has a wife.”
Unless the wife is Fanny Peterson.
The instant the thought entered Tess’s head, she knew it was the right thing to do. If Ulric were to marry Fanny, the Petersons would stay on to manage the house and estate, Sir Ernest could oversee financial matters and Ulric’s mother would not need to move to Myercroft at all.
It was the obvious solution… the sensible solution. The only question was whether Tess was unselfish enough to relinquish Ulric. It was the primary question that kept her awake at night.
The secondary question was even more troubling. It had gradually dawned on her that she ought to marry Edward, despite it being the sensible option. He was not quite irredeemably stuffy, given his willingness to climb trees for her and at least talk about being a highwayman, but he was still an effete aristocrat. How she lamented the loss of Tom’s manly proportions, but that could not be helped. Edward’s great advantage was that he loved her. He loved her! The very thought of it sent thrills through her entire body. A man who loved her, truly and steadfastly, as Tom never had. At least, she hoped his love was steadfast, and he would not change overnight into severe disapproval if they married.
And so she stumbled through the days, growing more uncertain by the hour, and at night lay awake long after she should have been asleep.
She was awake one night when she heard noises in the corridor outside her door. She could not tell what the time was, for it was too dark to make out the hands of the clock on the mantel, but the house had been silent for some time.
Slipping out of bed, she crept to the door and listened. Yes, there was no doubt — someone was creeping along, making no noise, but bearing a candle, for the flickering light filtered under the door. There was no time to do more than pick up a heavy candlestick as a makeshift weapon, then open the door.
It was Ulric. The light from the candle lit up his golden head so that he was recognisable even from behind. He was still fully dressed, except for his shoes, which he carried in one hand. He turned round, gazing at Tess with a puzzled expression.
“What are you doing?” he said in his flat voice.
“I was just about to ask you the same question, cousin,” Tess said.
“That’s a silver candlestick.”
“Is it? I had not noticed.”
“Why are you stealing the silver? You are a thief.” He dropped his shoes, set down his candlestick on a table and walked steadily towards her.
And only then did Tess see the danger she was in. Fear roiled through her as she backed away from him. “Ulric, it is I, Cousin Tess — your betrothed. We are to be married, remember?” Her voice rose in terror as he continued to approach, his face suffused with anger.
“You are a thief!” he cried, and seized her by the throat.
She screamed once before her cry was cut off. Then there was only pain, and panic, and the terrible, overwhelming fear that she was about to die.