Sir Ashley's Mettlesome Match

She had learned to live with that, to accept her eccentricity and even exaggerate it, so that no one took any notice of the lone figure striding along the foreshore in fisherman’s boots and a voluminous cloak that billowed out behind her, while the wind whipped her hair up into a fiery tangle. She could, of course, cut it off and wear a wig. Wigs were going out of fashion, but some still wore them. It was what Edward had wanted her to do.

Not only had he expected her to give up her writing, at which she had been successful enough to support her brother, aunt and cousin in comparative comfort since her parents had died and which she enjoyed, he had complained about the colour of her hair. He said his mother was superstitious and maintained red hair was the mark of the devil; if he married a red-haired woman, he would never prosper and a lot more nonsense that made her angrier and angrier, not only with his mother but with him for believing it. ‘If the colour of someone’s hair is so important,’ she had stormed at him, ‘then you had better find someone whose tresses you find more to your taste.’

She had expected him to pacify her and tell her it did not matter, that he loved her for what she was, but he had turned on his heel and left her. She had never seen him again and a little while later she heard he had left the country and his parents were blaming her.

Now Sir Ashley had brought it all back. He had said all the things she had hoped Edward would say, and he had said them in such a caring way, as if he knew she needed that reassurance. Were confirmed bachelors all so pleasant? Had they learned how to please without the need to propose marriage? Could they be friends as he had suggested?

It would be difficult if Ben really did know something about the smugglers or if Nat turned up and he was also involved. Her need to protect her brother and cousin would certainly come between any possible friendship. She would have to be especially careful when dealing with Sir Ashley. And that was a great pity because she liked him. He made her laugh and let her be herself. One day she might even tell him about Philip King. So deep in thought was she, she did not hear her aunt enter the room until she spoke.

‘Philippa, Sir Felix has just sent round to ask us to supper.’

‘I do not feel like going. I am tired and worried about Nat.’

‘I know, dearest, but we must not let anyone see that and as Sir Felix and Sir Ashley have been so accommodating about Ben, I think it behoves us to make the effort. I could not bear it if they changed their minds because we snubbed them.’

Pippa sighed and got up. ‘You are right. I will change my clothes.’

‘Put on something attractive—that green silk with the quilted stomacher enhances your figure, you know. It is your best feature.’ She pulled the gown out of the clothes press as she spoke and shook it out. ‘And try to do something about your hair. I will send Babette in to help you when she has finished with me.’

‘Yes, Aunt,’ she said meekly, beginning to take off the blue wool. ‘But if you think I will put up with Sir Felix mauling me, you are mistaken. He gives me the shivers. I cannot think what he sees in me.’

‘Why, a very attractive young lady when she can put herself out to be so,’ her aunt said. ‘But I was not thinking of Sir Felix particularly.’

‘Sir Ashley!’ Pippa laughed. ‘He is a lifelong bachelor, he told me so. We have decided to be friends.’

‘That is something anyway. Usually you frighten men away with your top-lofty manner.’

‘I am not top lofty. How can I be with a head like mine?’

‘Very easily,’ her aunt said. ‘And I wish you would not adopt it. You do yourself no favours.’

‘It would not work with Sir Ashley in any case. He would laugh at me.’

‘That would be very uncivil of him and I am persuaded he is the epitome of good manners.’

‘And all the more dangerous for that.’

‘What do you mean, dangerous?’

‘He is on the side of law and order. We must be circumspect in what we tell him. If he thinks Ben or Nat are smugglers, he will feel he has to do his duty and hand them over to the law.’

‘They are not. At least I am sure Ben is not. As for Nat, we might find out if he deigned to put in an appearance.’

‘I am worried he might be hurt and unable to come home. I asked Joe to try to find out what has happened to him.’

‘Nathaniel is a grown man. It is up to him what he does, but I wish he had not involved Ben.’

‘You do not know that he did. Oh, Aunt, I wish there was an end to all this smuggling. It is ruining men’s lives. Sir Ashley thinks so, which is why he is so against it. He would like to know who is at the back of it, the men who provide the money for the ships and the cargo. They are the real villains, not the poor inhabitants.’

‘We all know that, but I am sure Ben does not know who they are and can tell Sir Ashley nothing. Now finish dressing. We must not be late. Sir Felix is a stickler for punctuality.’ And with that she left to go to her own toilette.

Pippa dressed slowly. Her stomach was churning, partly on account of Sir Felix who repulsed her and had to be dealt with politely but firmly, and partly on account of Sir Ashley, who was far too perspicacious and far, far too attractive for her comfort.

Babette, her aunt’s maid, arrived in time to help lace up her bodice over the stomacher and to brush her unruly hair into obedience. It took a great many pins, combs, ribbons and powder to achieve it, but she emerged a tall, elegant beauty with a long neck, a full bosom, decorously hidden beneath her corsage, and a small waist from which her full overskirt billowed out, embroidered with pale pink flowers. She rarely wore jewellery, but tonight she fetched out her mother’s emeralds and fastened them about her neck where they lay on her throat, competing with her eyes in their greenness. Her aunt commented, ‘You’ll do', and led the way to their carriage.

Ash, who had returned late to the house, had only just managed to complete his toilette and go down to the drawing room to join his host before the ladies were announced. What he expected to see he was not at all sure, certainly not the vision of loveliness that quite took his breath away. Who would have believed the wild woman could be so tamed? She would turn heads in any drawing room. Politeness dictated he must acknowledge Mrs Whiteside first, which he did with admirable aplomb. Then he turned to Pippa and swept her the bow of a London courtier, putting his foot forwards and circling his arm before lowering it over his extended leg. ‘Miss Kingslake, your obedient slave.’

‘Hmph.’ This from Sir Felix who certainly did not approve of this extravagance.

Pippa, her green eyes sparkling, returned this courtesy with a deep curtsy. ‘Sir Ashley.’ Then she turned and afforded the same to her host. ‘Sir Felix, good evening.’

He bowed and seized her hand to kiss the back of it. ‘Dear lady, you are in looks tonight. One would never guess that you had endured a carriage ride all the way to Wells and back today.’

‘It took no endurance on my part,’ she said, retrieving her hand. ‘Sir Ashley’s carriage is the last word in comfort.’

‘And he has secured Ben’s release,’ Augusta added. ‘We are to fetch him tomorrow, but no doubt Sir Ashley has told you that.’

‘Yes, he has. I am indebted to him.’ He indicated a sofa with a wave of his hand. ‘Please be seated. Supper will not be long. I ordered it for half past eight.’

Pippa, taking a seat alongside her aunt, glanced at the ormolu clock on the mantel. It wanted a minute to the half-hour. She sat silently counting the seconds.

‘Supper is served, Sir Felix.’ Even though she had been expecting it, the voice made Pippa jump, the footman had entered so silently.

Their host held out his hand to her and Pippa took it to rise and thus she went into the dining room on the arm of Sir Felix, leaving Ash to escort Mrs Whiteside.

The meal was superbly cooked and presented and the wines very fine, but Pippa hardly noticed what she was eating and drinking. She was acutely conscious of Sir Felix at the head of the table on her left and Sir Ashley on her right and the need to be circumspect. The atmosphere was fraught with tension. There was too much unspoken, too much that must not be spoken for normal conversation, though Sir Ashley did his best. He entertained them with stories of London gossip and what was going on at court and in Parliament, anything except what was most on their minds.

‘We had some excitement while you were away today,’ Sir Felix said in a pause in the conversation. ‘The smugglers stormed the Customs House and rescued the contraband. Knocked the two guards clean out of their senses.’

‘Oh, dear, I am sorry to hear that,’ Pippa said. ‘Did they recognise their assailants?’

‘No, they do not seem able to remember anything about it, nor who was responsible. I do not suppose we shall ever trace the smuggled goods now.’ It was said almost triumphantly.

‘You think it has all been spirited away?’ Ash asked him. ‘They must surely wait until dark to do that.’

‘My dear fellow, of course they must, but no one in his senses would attempt to stop them. They will have a hundred batmen escorting them, all armed with batons and muskets, ready to do battle with anyone attempting to interfere. It would take an army and we do not have an army. I have spoken to Captain Lovechild and he will not risk his dragoons on so unequal a fight. It is his opinion that it would be best to alert the people at the receiving end.’

‘Do you know who they might be?’ asked Pippa.

‘No, but perhaps Sir Ashley does. He seems to be an authority on the trade.’

‘I beg your pardon, Sir Felix,’ Ash put in. ‘I claim no such thing. I am as ignorant on the subject as you are', which was a statement that could mean something or nothing. ‘I am here to learn.’

To learn from poor Ben, Pippa thought, but said nothing. She would go with Sir Ashley and her aunt tomorrow and make sure her cousin did not implicate the local men, particularly Nat. Where was he? The longer he was away the more worried she became and her ambivalent feelings towards Sir Ashley were not helping. On the one hand she wished him and his probing away and on the other she knew he would be a staunch support in a crisis. Was there a crisis? She did not even know that.

When the lengthy meal ended the ladies repaired to the drawing room for tea, leaving the men to their port and cognac. ‘I wonder if Sir Felix’s brandy is duty-paid?’ Pippa murmured, accepting a dish of tea from her aunt. ‘I do not think he is at all enthusiastic about tackling the smuggling.’

‘He is simply thinking of the danger to the dragoons if there is a pitched battle,’ Augusta said. ‘And perhaps he is trying to protect Nathaniel.’

‘Protect his own supply, you mean.’

‘Philippa!’ her aunt protested. ‘You must not say such things. He would be deeply offended. After all, he would be doing it for your sake.’

‘Mine?’

‘Do not be obtuse, my girl. It cannot have escaped your notice that he pays you very particular attention.’

‘And I wish he would not. Short of telling him I find him repulsive, which would be cruel, I do not know how to put him off.’

‘Why do you want to? Six and twenty you are, and unlikely to get another offer. If what you tell me is correct, Sir Ashley has already made it plain he is not interested. Who else will take you? Especially since you refuse to go to London in the Season.’

‘I did that once and look what happened. No, Aunt, I am resigned to remaining single.’

Her aunt heaved a sigh. ‘I have never met anyone as stubborn as you are.’

‘It goes with my red hair,’ Pippa said, trying to make a joke of it. ‘Stubborn, fiery-tempered, not to be trusted …’

‘Who said you were not to be trusted?’

‘Lady Cadogan.’

‘Oh, that.’

‘Yes, that. Now, you will please me if you say no more on the subject.’

‘Very well, though I do think—’

‘No, Aunt,’ Pippa stopped her. ‘It is all behind me and that is how I would like it to stay.’

If Augusta was going to continue, she did not because the gentlemen joined them and she was kept busy dispensing tea to them at Sir Felix’s request, and asking Ash about the latest London fashions on which he seemed more knowledgeable than Pippa would have expected for a bachelor. But then, she told herself, he had, on his own admission, had several mistresses. Was he a rake? Had his light flirtation with her in the coach been leading to a proposition? Why, oh, why had she told him she had had lovers? It must have given him quite the wrong impression.

Sir Felix settled down on the sofa next to Pippa, and though she edged away, he simply shifted closer. In the end she stood up and went over to a spinet that stood in the corner and began idly picking out notes with one hand.

‘Do you play, Miss Kingslake?’

She turned to find Sir Ashley at her side. ‘A little.’

‘Then please do entertain us.’ He regarded her quizzically with a slight smile. ‘I think “Greensleeves” would be most appropriate? That is, if you know it.’

‘Of course.’ She pulled out the stool and sat down to play. He stood beside the instrument and began to sing, ‘Alas, my love, you do me wrong to cast me off discourteously …’ He had a mellifluous voice and sang effortlessly. She joined in and did not notice Sir Felix’s scowl. Ash did and was amused by it. The man was as jealous as hell. He hoped, oh, he hoped that Miss Kingslake would not be so foolish as to accept the man’s suit; he was far too old and set in his ways for someone as lively as Miss Kingslake. He smiled to himself as the song came to an end. He was being foolish; after all, what business was it of his whom the lady married?

The last dying notes and the flourishing bow Ash gave the pianist signalled the end of the evening and the ladies prepared to leave. Sir Felix gave orders for their carriage to be brought round to the front of the house.

‘Ask my man to saddle a horse for me,’ Ash told the footman who was being sent on this errand. ‘I will ride beside the carriage.’

‘It is very kind of you, Sir Ashley,’ Pippa said. ‘But not at all necessary. It is less than three miles …’

‘I think it is,’ he said. ‘The smugglers might be abroad and I would see you safely home.’

‘I think I should come, too,’ Sir Felix said. ‘One escort would not be enough to protect you against a mob. And I am a magistrate, after all. They will respect me.’

Ash doubted that. He suspected Sir Felix wanted to make sure he did not go out looking for smugglers after he left the ladies, which he had every intention of doing. It was a dark night, ideal for moving the contraband from wherever it was hidden and sending it on its way. He bowed in acquiescence, Sir Felix gave orders for his horse to be saddled, too, and thus the little cavalcade journeyed to Windward House without meeting a soul. All the village houses were in darkness, which could mean the occupants were in bed and keeping out of the way or they were gathering for the move.

When they arrived, the gentlemen saw the ladies safely into the house and the carriage driven round to the stables, then they returned to the Manor in silence. They had nothing to say to each other.

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