Lady Knightley's Secret

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Richard transferred his gaze from the Viscount’s rather puzzled expression to study the delicately painted box in his hand. Yes, he silently agreed, that was most odd. Perhaps, though, she was by nature very modest and didn’t want her highly commendable acts of kindness to become generally known. Or, maybe, there was some other reason? She must have realised, surely, that Brin knew the truth already? So there could have been only one other whom she had been trying to mislead. His eyes narrowed. How very intriguing!

Before returning to his estates in Hampshire, he decided, clamping his jaws together in hard determination, he intended to get to know the delightful Miss Beresford a good deal better!

Chapter Four

Settling himself more comfortably in the corner of his well-sprung travelling carriage, Richard looked across at his intriguing companion with narrowed, assessing eyes. Although they had resided under the same roof for several days, he knew little more about Elizabeth Beresford now than he had after that first exploratory ride across Viscount Dartwood’s estate.

It would be grossly unjust to suggest that she had deliberately gone out of her way to avoid him, because she most certainly had not. He’d spent many pleasurable hours in her company, either exploring the Devonshire countryside on horseback, or enjoying a hand or two of piquet in the evenings after dinner; but since that first ride across the estate, they had never once found themselves alone together.

Of course this went some way to explain why he’d been unable to discover anything further about the life she had been leading since leaving the protection of her family home; nor, indeed, what had induced her to seek sanctuary with her maternal grandmother in the first place. He could hardly question her in any great detail when in the company of either their host or hostess. To do so would give rise to the wildest suppositions, especially on the part of the sportive Viscountess, who was quite obviously as touchingly fond of Elizabeth as was that dragon-faced maid who always accompanied her whenever she took a stroll in the gardens.

Not that he believed this was done with the deliberate intention of thwarting his attempts to be alone with her, nor through any reasons of propriety, either. If that were the case, why hadn’t Miss Beresford insisted on her maid accompanying her out this evening? After all, it was hardly considered correct behaviour for a young, unmarried female to ride in a closed carriage with a gentleman who wasn’t a close relative without the support of some female companion.

‘Something appears to be troubling you, Sir Richard,’ Elizabeth remarked, turning her head suddenly and catching the frowning scrutiny. ‘If it is the prospect of dining with the Chilthams which has brought on a bout of ill-humour, then let me remind you that it was you who accepted the invitation, not I.’

‘On the contrary, I am looking forward to it.’ He didn’t add that it might offer the opportunity to discover why—and this was pure supposition on his part—she seemed disinclined to make up her differences with her sister. ‘I’m rather surprised, though, that you chose to leave your maid behind.’

He had long since come to the conclusion that she was far from slow-witted and wasn’t in the least surprised, therefore, to see a spark of mischief suddenly brighten her eyes. ‘Sir Richard, let me assure you that you’re in no danger of being compromised. Nor do I consider my reputation is likely to suffer by taking a short carriage ride with you. Besides which, I deemed it far more important for Aggie to remain at the house.’

She wasn’t slow to recognise the unspoken question in his eyes, either. ‘It’s my belief that the Viscountess is nearer her time than she supposes.’

His brow rose. ‘I didn’t realise, Miss Beresford, that amongst your many other accomplishments you were such an expert on childbearing.’

‘Certainly not in childbearing, sir. But I have some experience of childbirth.’

Again his brow rose and he regarded her with amused interest. ‘May I be permitted to know how you acquired this knowledge?’

‘Unlike many young females of my class, I have not frittered away my time in sewing or painting water-colour pictures. During the past few years I have not infrequently accompanied Tom out when he has made calls.’

‘Tom?’ he echoed, totally bemused.

‘Dr Thomas Carrington, a licentiate of the London College of Physicians.’ Her lips curled into a warm smile, betraying clearly enough her regard for the doctor. ‘His father was an apothecary and a close friend of my grandmother’s. He died when Tom was little more than ten years old, and my grandmother virtually brought Tom up. She took him into her home, paid for his education and provided him with funds when he went to train in London. When he returned to Bristol he continued to live in my grandmother’s house up until her death.’

Her sudden scowl revealed quite beautifully her feelings of intense annoyance, even before she added, ‘He then considered that it would be grossly improper for him to remain there with me, and now resides in the far from comfortable rooms above his father’s old shop.’ She raised her hand in an impatient gesture. ‘I’ve come to the conclusion that your sex can be quite foolishly stubborn at times!’

He decided that, as she seemed in an informative frame of mind, it might be wise to refrain from agreeing wholeheartedly with the actions the doctor had taken on her behalf, but could not resist remarking, ‘And I suppose the experience you gained by accompanying Dr Carrington on those visits to his various patients over the years came in very useful when you were in Brussels last summer?’

Her expression betrayed her immediate understanding. ‘I see! So you’ve been gossiping about me behind my back.’

‘It was remarked upon that you nursed some British soldiers, certainly,’ he admitted.

‘And so did many others, sir,’ she responded with yet another dismissive wave of her hand. ‘My grandmother and I were in no way unique. Many opened their doors to the injured.’ She looked at him steadily. ‘I understand that you, too, were wounded and offered sanctuary. I trust you were not badly hurt?’

‘As you see, ma’am, I survived.’ Richard turned his head to stare out of the window at the rapidly fading light as he experienced again that all-too-frequent gnawing spasm of grief. Would thoughts of Mary Smith, and her untimely death, always remain a painful torment?

He forced himself to look back at Elizabeth again, saw that she was regarding him rather thoughtfully and decided it might be to his advantage to change the subject before she turned the tables on him and began to enquire too deeply into certain aspects of his past that he would far rather be allowed to forget.

Consequently, they continued the journey with him only raising topics as impersonal as the weather, which had in the past twenty-four hours grown markedly colder. Evidently, Elizabeth was feeling the drop in temperature, for he noticed her shiver and glance up at the dark early evening sky as she stepped down from the carriage, after it had drawn to a halt outside the front entrance of the Chilthams’ imposing but rather gloomy greystone mansion.

The high-ceilinged, draughty hall was anything but inviting, but no fault could be found with the warmth of the welcome bestowed upon them by their hostess as they entered the drawing-room. Lord Chiltham, too, was urbanity itself, praising his sister-in-law on her charming appearance before introducing her to his youngest brother, Edward, who was at present residing with them and who, Elizabeth noted with a wry smile, was in the gravest danger of continuing the family tradition by doubling the size of his girth by middle age.

Several people had been invited to dine and the sumptuous meal, which included numerous courses and a wide variety of richly prepared dishes, as Lord Chiltham was not famed for his abstinence, was most enjoyable. Afterwards the ladies returned to the drawing-room and Elizabeth found herself seated beside the lady who had accompanied Evadne on her visit to Dartwood Manor two days before.

Apart from the fact that Caroline Westbridge resided in Hampshire, and happened to be Sir Richard’s nearest neighbour, Elizabeth knew absolutely nothing about her. She had seemed rather ill at ease when she had made that visit with Evadne, barely uttering a word, while at the same time watchful.

This evening, however, she appeared far more relaxed and chatted away on a variety of topics before announcing quite unexpectedly, ‘You are nothing like your sister, Miss Beresford.’

Elizabeth had heard this remarked upon too many times in the past to experience the least pang of jealousy. Although she held her sister in scant regard, she had to own that Evadne, even though not in her first flush of youth, was still an extremely pretty woman.

She glanced across the room to where her sister stood conversing with the Rector’s wife and eldest daughter. Considering Evadne had borne two children, her figure was good, and although perhaps her complexion could no longer withstand close inspection, her blonde hair still retained its guinea-gold lustre.

‘No, I bear no resemblance to my sister whatsoever. There’s no denying that Evadne was the beauty in the family, and I must confess she has retained her looks remarkably well.’

‘She certainly has,’ Mrs Westbridge agreed. ‘But I was thinking more of the difference between you in temperament.’

Although she had spoken levelly enough, there was something in the tone which puzzled Elizabeth. She had assumed that Mrs Westbridge was an old friend of Evadne’s, but she experienced the oddest feeling, now, that this was far from the case.

‘Have you been acquainted with my sister long, ma’am?’

‘My husband was Lord Chiltham’s cousin. We became acquainted through our husbands.’

‘Was?’ Elizabeth echoed.

‘I’ve been a widow for five years.’

‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.’

‘One grows accustomed, Miss Beresford. My son is my life now. He’ll be going to university in the autumn, and I must confess I miss him dreadfully when he’s away from home.’

‘I see you two are getting along famously.’

Evadne’s sudden interruption brought the little te?te-a`-te?te to an abrupt end. It seemed to bring a cessation to Caroline Westbridge’s friendly and easygoing manner too. Although she added one or two snippets to the ensuing conversation, she appeared to have grown tense quite suddenly, with that watchful, almost wary look returning to her eyes.

Elizabeth was not granted the opportunity to dwell on this rather puzzling circumstance, for a few minutes later the door opened and the gentlemen rejoined them. Evadne was in her element, and it rather amused Elizabeth to discover just how much pleasure her sister derived from playing the hostess.

There was no denying that she was extremely adept at the role, dismissing such mundane entertainments as cards or charades as commonplace, and encouraging most of her guests to join in one of her, now, famous treasure hunts. Only Lord Chiltham, the Rector and his wife refused to be tempted. Names were written on pieces of paper and placed in a bowl, and Richard, his being the first name to be drawn out, found himself partnered with Caroline Westbridge, which seemed not to displease either of them. The Rector’s daughter was teamed up with the very handsome son of the local squire, which left Edward Chiltham to make up the last pairing with Elizabeth.

She was not too disappointed at this. Edward was an amiable enough young man, if a trifle light-minded, but the bright glint in his eyes, which suggested that he had been imbibing rather too freely of his brother’s port, did cause her a moment’s disquiet.

Handing each pair a folded sheet of paper on which was written their first clue, Evadne started each couple off at ten-minute intervals. Elizabeth and Edward were the last to begin and it didn’t take Elizabeth very long to realise that she would be doing most of the searching and solving of clues on her own, as Edward appeared far more interested in reducing the levels in the decanters placed in the various rooms.

By the time she had discovered the whereabouts of the fifth clue, taped to the back of the mantel-clock in the Yellow Salon, Edward had succumbed to his excesses and had fallen sound asleep on the sofa; whereas Richard and Caroline, having satisfactorily completed the hunt in record time, were making their way back along the gallery towards the head of the stairs.

‘Evadne is quite famous for her treasure hunts, and I must say it does make a pleasant change from sitting down and playing cards.’

‘Yes, most enjoyable,’ Richard concurred. ‘But I think someone should drop Lady Chiltham a hint to play her games only during the summer months. Some of these rooms are confoundedly draughty!’

Caroline laughingly agreed. ‘I must say my bedchamber is not the most comfortable of rooms. Fortunately my visit this time is only a brief one,’ she confided, smiling up at his handsome face.

She had been a close neighbour of the Knightleys for almost sixteen years. Richard had been little more than a boy when she had first gone to live in Hampshire with her husband. She had liked his brother very much, and Richard’s sister-in-law had been a particular friend. Their deaths had upset her deeply; but she had never doubted Richard’s ability to take his brother’s place as head of the family. He had inherited the Knightley temperament, steadfast and reliable, and had already won the respect of his tenants and estate workers during the few short months he had been back in England.

‘How long do you intend to remain in Devon?’ His sudden scowl surprised her. ‘I’m sorry, Richard. I didn’t mean to pry.’

‘No, no. I wasn’t thinking that,’ he hurriedly assured her, his attractive smile erasing the lines in his forehead. ‘I really haven’t given it much thought…Another week, maybe two.’

‘Lord and Lady Dartwood seem a charming couple,’ she remarked after a moment’s silence.

‘Yes, they are. I’ve known the Viscount for some time, of course. Before he came into the title he was in the army. We spent several years together out in the Peninsula. But this is the first time I’ve met his wife.’

‘Am I right in thinking that she and Miss Beresford were at school together?’

‘Yes, yes, they were. The Viscountess thinks a great deal of her.’

Caroline paused for a moment before descending the stairs. ‘I had the pleasure of speaking to her earlier and thought her a most charming and likeable young woman.’

She chanced to glance up at him as he opened the drawing-room door for her and caught a look in his eyes, a strange mixture of tenderness and what appeared suspiciously like exasperation, and couldn’t help but wonder whether the Dartwoods’ hospitality was the reason he seemed disinclined to leave Devonshire, or something else entirely.

‘How quick you have been!’ Evadne exclaimed as they entered the room. ‘I can see I’m going to have to make the clues more difficult in future.’

She then invited them to play a game or two of whist while they awaited the others. The Rector’s daughter and her partner were the next to return; but half an hour later there was still no sign of Elizabeth and Edward.

Richard glanced up at the clock. It was getting quite late and he didn’t wish to delay his departure too long. His coachman, no longer a young man, was not as dependable as he had once been, and might well lose his way on the unfamiliar roads. ‘I think I’d better go in search of Miss Beresford,’ he announced, rising to his feet. ‘It’s time we were taking our leave.’

Evadne, betraying a moment’s alarm, rose also and drew him to one side. ‘I haven’t as yet been given the opportunity, but I was hoping to persuade Elizabeth to remain here with me tonight.’ She couldn’t mistake the surprised look in his eyes and smiled dazzlingly up at him. ‘Yes, I’m sure, Richard, you have gathered by now that relations between my sister and me have not been—well, very good. And I wish to rectify this.’

She paused as though expecting a response, but when he remained silent, staring down at her almost quizzically, she added, ‘Like most family disagreements, ours grew out of all proportion. My mother was deeply upset when Elizabeth suddenly took it into her head to live with our grandmother and, naturally, I took Mama’s part. But I never intended the estrangement between Elizabeth and myself to continue all these years. So very unnecessary! So foolish!’

His expression changed instantly to one of approval. ‘Far be it from me to throw a rub in your way, but I think it only right and proper that I go in search of her and inform her that I intend to leave.’

‘Oh, no, don’t do that!’ Placing a restraining hand on his arm, she stared into his dark eyes with a look of entreaty in her own. ‘She’ll very likely wish to go with you, and I shall be denied the opportunity to speak to her alone. I cannot abandon my other guests, and was hoping to have a long talk after the others have gone. I cannot expect to heal the breach in five minutes and if, after she has heard me out, she is still determined to leave, then I shall return her safely to Dartwood Manor in my own carriage.’

In the face of these assurances Richard couldn’t find it within himself to thwart her plans. He saw no earthly reason why he should remain, though, and after saying he would order his own carriage brought round from the stables, he made his farewells and went out into the hall.

As a young footman helped him on with his coat, Richard heard the sound of a door closing and turned in time to glimpse a flash of Elizabeth’s dark blue velvet cloak before she disappeared down a narrow passageway. Where on earth was she going? he wondered. Evidently she had gone hopelessly wrong somewhere in the hunt, for all the clues and answers were to be found on the upper floor.

‘Where does that lead?’

The footman turned his head in the direction of Sir Richard’s pointing finger. ‘The kitchen area, sir, and the cellar.’

‘Good heavens! She has got herself hopelessly lost!’

‘I beg your pardon, sir?’

‘Nothing. Don’t bother to order my carriage just yet,’ he called over his shoulder as he set off across the hall. ‘I’ll arrange for it to be brought round later.’

The passageway was dimly lit and, like the rest of the house, prone to draughts. Picking up a candle off an old wooden table placed against the wall, he turned the corner, and was about to open the door on his left, when he saw a faint glimmer of light through an open doorway at the very end of the passage. Shielding the candle flame with his cupped hand, he approached the door and, seeing a series of stone steps, realised it must lead to the cellar.

‘Miss Beresford,’ he called. There was no response, so he descended the steps to the cold stone floor below. ‘Miss Beresford, are you down here?’

‘Sir Richard?’ Her head appeared from behind one of the huge wooden wine racks. ‘I see you had the sense to put on your coat, too. This house is abominably draughty. And it’s absolutely freezing down here!’

‘Very true. But what quite amazes me, my dear girl,’ he responded as he moved towards her, ‘is what you’re doing down here in the first place.’

‘The same as you, I should imagine. I’m looking for clues. I sincerely hope this is the last one. I’m rather tired of this game. It seems to have gone on for—’

Elizabeth caught herself up abruptly as the sound of the door being slammed shut echoed loudly round the cold stone walls. There followed the unmistakable grating of a key being turned in a lock, and Elizabeth looked up at Richard, the all-too-obvious question in her eyes.

‘It would certainly seem so.’ He removed a fleck of dust from his sleeve. ‘How exceedingly tiresome!’

Elizabeth ran back up the steps and her groan as she tried to turn the doorknob was confirmation enough. ‘What are we to do?’

‘Wait until someone comes searching for us.’

He sat himself on the edge of a large wooden table. It creaked slightly beneath his weight, but he had every confidence that it would support him and began to swing one well-muscled leg to and fro, for all the world as though he hadn’t a care.

‘Aren’t you coming up here to help me attract someone’s attention?’ Elizabeth paused in her pounding of the door to ask.

‘No. But far be it from me to stop you making yourself hoarse and bruising your hands if you’ve a mind to do so.’ The look she cast down at him left him in no doubt that she would have derived great pleasure from pounding her fists against him. ‘I think I should warn you, though, before you become completely exhausted, that there isn’t an earthly chance of someone hearing you unless he happens to be in that passageway. And it’s quite obvious to me, at least, that the culprit has long since departed, or is profoundly deaf.’

‘Yes, I suppose you’re right.’ After descending the steps again, she moved towards the table, a sudden frown creasing her brow. ‘If you didn’t come down here searching for clues, why did you come?’

‘To bid you farewell. I was on the point of departure when I happened to catch sight of you disappearing down the passageway.’

‘You were leaving?’ Initially she experienced surprise, but then felt quite aggrieved. ‘What…without me?’

He couldn’t prevent a slight smile at this. ‘Your sister hopes to persuade you to stay the night. She’s wishful to make up your differences.’

‘Is she, indeed.’ Elizabeth was decidedly sceptical. She would never trust her sister an inch, but at the same time would have granted her the opportunity to say her piece. ‘I shall certainly listen to what she has to say, but I’ve no intention of remaining here all night.’

‘Let us hope we’re permitted a choice, my dear,’ he responded drily and, easing himself off the table, held his candle aloft. ‘In the meantime, we may as well make ourselves as comfortable as possible. There’s no saying how long we’ll be forced to wait before we’re released from our temporary confinement.’

He discovered a pile of sacks in a crate and began to carry them across to the table. ‘Spread these out. At least we’ll have something soft to sit on. And, thankfully, we’re not short of something to quench our thirsts, either.’

He began to inspect the wine racks while Elizabeth placed the sacks neatly over the table. ‘If I know anything of butlers, there’s sure to be an opener here somewhere. Ha! Here it is, ready for his secret tipple, but no glasses, I’m afraid. Still,’ he shrugged, ‘one cannot expect every creature comfort.’

He rejoined her at the table and, after helping her to climb upon it, settled himself down on the sacks beside her. The opening of the bottle was accomplished easily enough, and he offered her the first taste, smiling at her grimace as she foolishly took rather a large swallow of the excellent old brandy.