Chapter 32
Cecilia had locked the door when she went out and brought the key with her, which was just as well, as she had very little idea how long she had spent in the summerhouse.
Hours, certainly. Beatrice did not accost her when she crept carefully up the stairs this time, and she was glad of it.
She’d engineer a conversation with Mrs Pritty first thing tomorrow and make sure all her sisters were party to it, but she was not confident that it would be right or kind to warn Bea particularly against growing too fond of Miss Pallant.
Assuming everything the Major had told her about Lord Pallant was true, even accepting he was a fortune hunter and something perilously close to a rapist, that wasn’t his sister’s fault.
Living with a man like that, under a roof where such things as Major Bartrum had described happened, couldn’t be pleasant.
She would need a great deal more evidence than this to tear down Bea’s shiny, fragile new happiness and wilfully trample on it.
She was first downstairs the next day, having slept deeply, and went to find Mrs Pritty in the kitchen, where she was already preparing breakfast. The housekeeper shot a sharp look at her, and then sent Lucy off to set the table.
‘I see you have something to ask me, Miss Cecilia. Best to have the girl out of the way. Little pitchers have big ears, as they say, or that one does. What’s the matter? ’
‘You know we’re going out for a picnic with the Pallants this afternoon, Mrs Pritty.
It’s been suggested to me that I should not trust that family, His Lordship in particular.
So I would be very grateful, if you are willing, to hear everything you can tell us about them.
All of us, so that there are no secrets, except from Lucy, since I’m told her sister is a maid at the Manor. Maybe after breakfast?’
Mrs Pritty was nodding before she’d finished speaking.
‘Of course, miss. I’ll come to you all in the parlour.
Nobody else’s business what we speak about while Lucy and Hannah are doing up the beds and so on, and Sally is preparing vegetables for dinner.
I don’t know who’s been telling you all this, but I won’t say any of it is wrong. Just as well you should be warned.’
The sisters were all a little quiet when the Pallants came to call for them, though this might not have been obvious in the flurry of greetings, introductions for those who had not yet met, and preparations for departure.
It had been arranged through Vivienne that they would all come over to Albery Hall on horseback, then Lord Pallant would take the reins of the dog cart, the sisters would all travel in it together, and Sebastian and Vivienne would ride alongside them, since the cart did not have room for everyone.
Cecilia could only regret that none of the Constantines could yet drive, and resolved that Miss Macintyre must begin her lessons the very next day.
As the Major had said, it was not pleasant to be so dependent on others, and in this case, all the more so as they were not people they could trust. Whatever happened at this picnic – and they all hoped nothing out of the common way would – they must rely on one of the Pallants to drive them back home in their own vehicle; His Lordship at least would be obliged to return with them anyway, to retrieve his horse.
If they wanted to leave at any point, and escape them, it would not be very easy to do so without a great deal of fuss.
She at least was wishing it had been possible to cancel, but that would just have meant a postponement, unless they’d been prepared for a confrontation and an open breach.
It was not the sort of thing that a lady could easily say to a gentleman without all kinds of repercussions: Sir, it has come to my notice that your reputation is such that my sisters and I should not be in your company.
How had they reached this point so swiftly?
They’d been in Suffolk considerably less than a fortnight.
Mrs Pritty had not told them anything much that she hadn’t already heard, but it had all been new to Bea and Bianca.
It was quite correct, the housekeeper said, that decent girls would not, if they could help it, go to Pallant House as servants.
There was an offensively high number of little blond, blue-eyed children in the nearby villages – some of them not so little by now – and His Lordship was not notably generous in supporting any of them.
Lucy’s pretty, silly sister Fanny was without doubt his mistress, and tripped about the place giving herself airs on account of it; if there was any silver lining to this cloud, it was the fact that the totty-headed wench at least had gone more than willingly to her fate, which wasn’t necessarily something you could say with confidence about some of her predecessors.
‘If I had my way,’ said the housekeeper, looking fierce, ‘I’d have him done up the way Farmer Eary did for your poor horse.
I beg your pardon for the crude speaking, but it does make me that mad.
I’ve a big, sharp knife; I’d happily do it myself.
So, you be careful, do you hear? I have heard tell the younger one is getting near as bad, too.
Rotten, the whole lot of them. Their wicked old father was the same, and don’t you be asking me how I know that for certain sure, for I won’t ever say. ’
Cecilia sat at Lord Pallant’s side now – she could not doubt that he had arranged it so – with her sisters behind her.
She stared at the gelding between the traces in front of her and thought of Mrs Pritty and her big knife while she listened to his flow of easy conversation, and tried to the best of her ability to return coherent, if unenthusiastic, answers.
The Baron was trying with practised ease to flirt with her, and now that she knew exactly what he was, it sickened her.
But she had a plan. By the end of this afternoon, it seemed quite likely that he’d think she was Suffolk’s most bird-witted female, but that was the least of her worries at the moment.
The dog cart was designed in such a way that the second seat was set back-to-back with the first, so Bea and Bianca were facing away from the direction of travel.
The vehicle had no cover – it would be very little use in the winter, or when it rained – and Sebastian Pallant and his sister were riding behind, as close as they could, no doubt taking the opportunity to make sheep’s eyes at their guests all the while.
They were, she felt, surrounded by altogether too many Pallants, and only Bea could be at all comfortable with any part of their situation.
‘Surely, none of this is Vivienne’s fault,’ she’d hissed at her stunned older sister when they’d been getting ready to come out; she couldn’t be quite confident that this was true, but on the other hand, she had no proof it wasn’t.
Bea had whispered that she was well aware of that, but it was still excessively shocking news and must give her pause.
The ruined castle was not a quarter of a mile beyond the village, so they arrived at their destination soon enough.
That was something, at least – they were not terribly far from home.
The men dealt with the three horses between them, leaving them in the shade, tethered loosely to convenient trees where they could crop the fresh spring grass.
Mr Pallant offered his elegant hand, adorned by a heavy gold signet ring, to help Cecilia up the path through the bluebell woods, but she pretended not to see it, striding out energetically on her own and exclaiming fatuously and at great length at the beauty and scent of the flowers.
Since he and his brother each had a heavy basket of food to carry, he was obliged to leave her entirely alone as the track grew a little steeper, and if Sebastian had similar designs on Bianca or Bea, those too were thwarted by the terrain.
They reached the top of the small hill without incident, and the girls spread out the blankets they had brought, and arranged the baskets upon them.
They had agreed – even Bea – that nothing would induce them to separate.
There wasn’t much left of the castle, which Lord Pallant told them had been destroyed by relentless Parliamentarian bombardment in the Civil War, so it only took a short while to explore its crumbling walls and gaping chimneys.
The company of six soon returned to their chosen picnic spot and stood looking out at the view, which was breathtaking.
She knew Bianca must be regretting not having brought her drawing materials.
They were above the tallest trees here, the vista stretching from one side of the bay to the other, and far out to the distant horizon of the sea.
The village below them looked like a child’s toy, as did the chequerboard fields and lazily winding river.
Cecilia could think of at least one person she’d rather be here with.
As far as she was concerned, this was nothing but a waste of a blanket and a fine afternoon.
She and Bianca exchanged a quick glance, and then began setting out the food.
If either Oliver or Sebastian Pallant did have nefarious designs on anyone, they could hardly do anything while they were all sitting together sharing cold chicken and Mrs Pritty’s rabbit and ramson pie.
The two gentlemen were fulsome in their praise of the delicious cold collation, and the sisters smiled politely, sharing the thought that the housekeeper would far rather it had choked them both.