7 A Runaway
Cal held Violetta tight as she sobbed into his coat. “It’s all right, Vi,” he murmured into the drooping feathers of her bonnet.
Her head shot up, tears sparkling on her lashes. “It is not all right! He has destroyed your home! Everything is gone, do you not understand?”
“It’s only things, Vi. Nothing important. So long as no one was hurt.”
“Papa would not let anyone go in to rescue your things, but I went in to get your book of plant drawings. I saved that, at least.”
“You went into a burning building? That was foolhardy, Vi. Nothing’s worth risking your life for.”
“There was no risk. The fire was only in the kitchen, then, and I knew where you kept your book. It is a bit smoky, but otherwise unscathed — as am I. Papa was angry, but I do not care a bit! He would not let me have the carriage to come here, so I came on the stage coach, and—”
“Alone?” he said sharply.
“No, no. I had Mary-Ann with me — my maid. You are not cross, are you, Cal? I did this for you.”
“I’m not cross. Relieved you’re unhurt, and that you got here in one piece, but you really shouldn’t disobey your father like that. It’s not right.”
Her eyes widened. “You will not send me home, will you?”
“That’s not for me to say,” Cal said. “Staineybank is the duke’s house, not mine.
You must throw yourself on his grace’s mercy, Vi.
What do you say, your grace? Shall we tie her to the bedpost and whip her until she promises never to do anything so foolish again, or shall we lock her into a trunk and dispatch her back to Lampton Priory by way of the carter’s wagon? ”
The duke was one of many who had arrived to see what was going on, but Cal could see by the twinkle in his grace’s eye that he was not minded to be harsh. Had Violetta been a brash young man, perhaps matters might have gone otherwise, but a pretty young lady was always going to be kindly received.
“Well, well, that was certainly reckless, Miss Garth,” the duke said, smiling at her, “but still, it was a brave thing to do. I hope we will all have a chance to see this book that was so important it needed to be rescued from the flames.”
“It is in my portmanteau,” she said, gesturing to the drive, where the maid waited with two bags beside the carrier’s cart.
“Excellent,” the duke said. “Bring it to the drawing room this evening. Mrs Merrington, since you are unencumbered by the infantry, may I request that you take Miss Garth inside and make the necessary arrangements for her to stay here until we have her father’s instructions for her?
Yes, yes, my dear, but he must be frantic with worry about you, and must be notified that you are safe with us.
Garford, Richard, my study, if you please.
You, too, Hammond, when you have paid off the carter. Robert, see to Miss Garth’s luggage.”
So saying, he turned and marched off towards the house. Cal followed more slowly, finding himself walking alongside Richard Merrington.
“Is she always so impetuous?” Merrington said sotto voce, for Violetta and Mrs Merrington were not far ahead of them.
“She’s always had a rebellious streak in her,” Cal said. “She’s not normally so foolish, however. She’s supposed to be going up to town to make her come out this spring, but I can’t see her father allowing it now.”
“Is she in love with you?”
Cal burst out laughing. “I’m old enough to be her grandfather, just about.”
“And she is old enough to fall in love — just about.”
“She chafes against her father’s restrictions. I’m just an excuse for her to push back now and then, when she’s feeling particularly constrained. A season or two in town, and a look at the possibilities of the world, and she won’t spare a single thought for me.”
“I merely thought it might give her father some excuse for this vindictiveness towards you. Or does he regularly burn down his employees’ cottages?”
“I never heard of him doing it before,” Cal said soberly. “He knows perfectly well he’s nothing to fear from me where Violetta is concerned.”
The duke was pacing up and down the study, scowling. “This is a bad business, Garford,” he said gruffly. “Is Garth quite insane?”
That made Cal smile. “No more so than any other rich man who wants his own way at all times and in all matters.”
“Hmpf. Like me, I suppose.”
“You’re a duke. You’ve some entitlement to do as you please.”
“None of us are free to do entirely as we please,” the duke said, the scowl darkening.
“To be burning your possessions like that — it is monstrous! The house he may do with as he likes, I dare say, since it is his, but the contents are your property, or some part of them, at any event. Have you lost much?”
“Everything, except what I brought here,” Cal said, with a shrug. “Every stick of furniture, every pot, every blanket — all of it was my own, either made by my own hands, or bought honestly. And the house was mine, too, left to me by Mr Garth’s grandfather when he died.”
“Then that is arson!” the duke exclaimed. “A crime indeed! Ah, Hammond, there you are. I want you to write a letter to Garth. Tell him that his daughter is here and he may collect her at his convenience.”
“Nothing else, your grace? Nothing about the burning of houses?”
“Nothing. Just as I said, to be sent by express.”
“Of course, your grace. Froggett has already sent word to the stables that a groom might be wanted for an urgent ride into Brinchester.”
He sat down and began to write rapidly, his pen dipping into the ink and then scratching across the paper in a steady rhythm, while the duke poured glasses of brandy and handed them round.
“I cannot abide a man who inflicts such vindictive punishment on an employee,” he muttered, between large mouthfuls of brandy.
“If a man is dishonest or disrespectful or fails to do his work, then turn him off, but to be burning down his house! Even if it were his own house, it would be a wicked waste, but when it is not even his own house — perhaps we should simply report him to his local magistrates.”
“He would deny everything, his men would say nothing and the magistrates are hardly likely to stand against him, when they dine with him and hunt on his land,” Cal said, smiling.
“Don’t be angry on my behalf, your grace.
There was nothing inside that cottage that I will grieve over.
The plates were plain wood or pottery, the linen the cheapest I could find.
The only valuable items were a few books, mostly borrowed from his own library.
His grandfather included that in his will, too. ”
“Mr Garth’s grandfather was surprisingly generous towards a gardener,” Hammond said, looking up from his letter with a quizzical look.
“He was a generous man,” Cal said neutrally.
The duke gave a rumble of laughter. “Hammond has a theory that you are the old man’s by-blow, and all this bequeathing of cottages and so forth would seem to suggest something of the sort. Still, no need to talk about that if you had rather not.”
“I’m very sorry to spoil a good theory, but I’m afraid I’m entirely legitimate,” Cal said, with a smile.
“Quite sure?” Hammond said.
“Absolutely sure.”
Hammond sighed. “Ah, well. I shall have to think again. Your grace, would you care to cast your eye over this letter?”
“I am sure it is fine. Send it on its way. Well, Garford, it seems there is no home for you at Lampton Priory. Still, even if Garth is inhospitable towards you, at least you know you have a home here.”
“Your grace is kindness itself,” Cal said, with a bow.
“This Goodenough fellow, whoever he is, has never led me astray yet. Richard’s lovely Rowena, so like my own dear Caroline, Simon Payne and his sister, Lady Juliet, Lance Chamberlain and now you. All of you are most welcome.”
“Don’t you wonder why he chose each of us?” Cal said. “Why me, of all people?”
“I am sure he has his reasons.” The duke chuckled. “So you will stay?”
“It seems I have no choice,” Cal said. “I’m happy to manage the woodlands for you, and whatever your head gardener can find for me to do, but, your grace…
I can’t live in Staineybank. It is a magnificent house, but so much stone presses on me so hard, I can’t breathe.
I need to be out in the woods. If I’m to stay, may I have the charcoal burner’s hut to live in, if it please you? ”
“The old hut? Is it still standing?”
“It’s of solid stone construction, needing very little work to make it habitable. Some simple furnishings, nothing more. I’d be very happy there.”
The duke nodded. “You are an odd sort of fellow, Garford, but I like a man who knows what he wants and is not afraid to say so. You have been sleeping up there already, so I hear. Yes, yes, nothing goes on in this house except I know about it. Well, well, tomorrow we will walk up there and look at your hut and then we shall see.”
And with that Cal had to be content.
***
Cora’s pleasure at being useful to Miss Garth lasted only as long as it took for them to walk into the Marble Hall.
There she found the duchess descending the stairs on light feet and Charlotte scuttling up from the basement, having already been apprised of the new arrival.
Miss Garth was swept into their care and gently shepherded up the stairs, while the maid, even more dishevelled than her mistress and a great deal more miserable, trailed along behind them.
With no one needing her for anything and nothing better to do, Cora made her way through the house and across the new bridge.
A plasterer was hard at work on the gallery ceiling, humming tunelessly on his scaffolding, his eyes fixed upwards so he did not even notice the small figure passing beneath him.
She made her way through the orangery, where the locksmith paused his work of installing new locks to hold the outer door open for her, and thence to the woods.