Moonlight And Mistletoe

CHAPTER NINE

Hester felt ready to sink. Of all the people in Winterbourne St Swithin to have discovered her virtually in the embrace of the Earl of Buckland, it had to be Mrs Redland.

She had reckoned without Guy’s considerable address. ‘Ma’am, you are just the person to assist me,’ he said warmly.

‘I am?’ Mrs Redland looked sharply from Hester’s rosy cheeks to Guy, who had only that moment dropped his hands from her shoulders.

‘Miss Lattimer, who is understandably distressed over the injury to her only male member of staff, was just refusing my offer to lend her a footman. I am sure you will agree with my anxiety that a household of ladies should not be without able- bodied male support.’

‘Well…’ Mrs Redland met Hester’s imploring gaze and hesitated. Hester nodded meaningfully at Guy’s back, then shook her head vehemently. Mrs Redland had obviously not forgotten their conversation earlier that day.

‘That is a most generous suggestion, my lord. However, I cannot but feel that such an offer, whilst meant with the most chivalrous of intentions, might be misinterpreted in some quarters. A single lady, especially one of Miss Lattimer’s years, cannot he too careful.’

Hester smiled at Mrs Redland, then rapidly composed her face when Guy swung round to look at her.

‘Very well, Miss Lattimer, it appears I am overruled by wiser counsel. I will send a groom over daily to attend to your cob. Please feel free at any time to call upon my household for assistance; you have only to speak to my butler. Good day, Miss Lattimer, Mrs Redland.’

‘Tsk!’ Mrs Redland regarded the door, which his lordship had most carefully refrained from slamming, with some amusement. ‘Not a gentleman used to encountering opposition to his will, that is obvious.’ She allowed herself to be ushered through to the drawing room, but refused the offer of a seat. ‘No, my dear, I merely called to enquire if there was anything I could do to help.’

‘Thank you, ma’am, that is most kind. It is all very worrying.’ Hester could not now believe that Mrs Redland had overheard anything compromising. ‘However, the doctor has been most helpful and Miss Prudhome has extensive sickroom experience.’

‘Very well, I will take my leave, but do let me know if there is anything I can do to assist or if, now Miss Prudhome has other calls upon her time, you require a chaperon.’ She paused as Hester was opening the front door for her. ‘I am sure his lordship’s intentions are merely to be attentive and of use as a neighbour, but I commend your reticence, Miss Lattimer.’

More than a little relieved, Hester made her way back to the kitchen. What a narrow escape!

‘There you are.’ Guy was sitting at the kitchen table, a steaming mug of tea in his hands. He stood up as Hester entered and the look he exchanged with Susan was not lost upon her.

‘I’ll just see if Miss Prudhome needs any help.’ The maid bustled self-consciously out of the door, wiping her hands on her apron as she went.

‘I will thank you not to conspire with my servants behind my back, my lord!’ She felt so angry that it was difficult to control her voice.

‘I merely remarked to her that I wanted an opportunity for a word in private.’ Guy gestured to the chair opposite. ‘Will you not sit down? This is an excellent cup of tea and I am anxious to finish it.’

Hester sat down with some emphasis. ‘Far be it from me to disoblige you, my lord. Please finish your tea at your leisure; I cannot imagine that we have anything else to discuss.’

The mug was grounded with enough force to splash tea on the scrubbed pine. ‘Why do you not trust me, Hester?’

‘Because someone is trying to frighten me out of this house and you are the only person with a motive for doing so.’

‘You obviously never studied logic-I am the only person whose motives you are aware of. That does not mean that I am therefore the culprit.’

‘Since society opposes scholarship for women, you are correct that I am untutored in logic. However, I have enough native wit to know when someone is hiding something. You will not tell me why you want the Moon House: you cannot therefore complain that I am suspicious of you. Tell me why you want my house and you may find I trust you.’

Guy ran one long-fingered hand over his mouth and chin, then shook his head decisively. ‘It is not just my story to tell you.’

Hester shrugged. ‘Then we have a stalemate.’

‘Do you seriously think I would harm you?’ That expressive hand reached across the table and captured hers. ‘Do you?’

‘No.’ She found she believed it. Her hand lay passive under his, then turned, seemingly of its own volition, until their fingers interlaced. ‘And neither do I think you, or anyone else, are tiptoeing about this house depositing roses personally. I am sure whoever is behind this is employing some agent and on this occasion they must have been frightened, put down the roses and left. It was pure accident that Jethro did not see them.’

‘He could have broken his neck.’

Hester shivered at the thought. ‘And so could any of us if Susan had not cleaned the flags in here thoroughly after spilling a pan of greasy cooking the other day. Accidents happen, my lord, and I would be foolish indeed if I trust everyone who appears well intentioned and friendly.’

‘Then at least promise me you will take care.’ He let go of her hand and she stifled a little murmur of protest.

‘I can certainly promise you that. And I have had all the locks changed and the window catches checked. Whoever thinks they can come and go as they please will soon find they are mistaken.’

‘If that is how they have been entering. They got in today, did they not?’ Guy put down his empty mug and stood up, looking down at her with sombre eyes. ‘Somehow I do not think you are dealing with someone who comes and goes by the front door, or even by a window.’

‘Then you believe this to be a ghost story?’ Hester laughed, wishing she felt as confident as she sounded. ‘I could almost suspect you of reading Gothic novels, my lord.’

He was at the back door, but swung round with some irritation. ‘No, I have not, Miss Lattimer, but I could wish that you had, they might produce some healthy fear in you. And for heaven’s sake, stop calling me “my lord” in every other sentence. You sound like a simpering miss at Almack’s.’

‘As I have never had the good fortune to attend Almack’s, my lord, I would not know how young ladies there sound. I have had to make my own way in the world and perhaps that has made me somewhat more independent than gentlemen like.’

His brows rose. ‘I have no objection to your independence, Hester, I just wish it did not give you this foolhardy confidence.’

‘I thought you were upset that I do not trust you?’ she jibed, now thoroughly nettled. ‘You should congratulate me on retaining a caution about anyone whom I have known for such a short time.’

‘I see there is no reasoning with you. Good day, Miss Lattimer.’

‘Good day, my lord.’ The door shut behind him and she watched through the window as he strode across the yard to the gate. ‘Guy.’

Five minutes later she realised she was still sitting at the kitchen table, staring into space. ‘For goodness’ sake, pull yourself together, Hester!’ she exclaimed. ‘You wanted him to keep a proper distance, that at least is now assured!’ This should have been a comfort, but somehow her anxiously sought respectability and acceptance in the community seemed a hollow ambition now.

Hester got to her feet and took herself upstairs to see how Jethro did. Halfway across the landing she stopped, turned and ran downstairs to lock the back door, knowing as she did so that it was probably a futile gesture.

Thursday dawned bright and clear as Miss Prudhome announced when she met Susan and Hester in the kitchen. ‘Lovely and sunny, despite all that rain last night.’

‘Which is more than can be said for us,’ Susan observed, banging down a coffee pot on the tray destined for Jethro’s room. ‘I didn’t get a wink of sleep, and I dare say you didn’t, either, Miss Hester-not judging by those dark circles under your eyes.’

‘I am sorry,’ Maria apologised, with a return to her old fluttering nervousness. ‘I did try and creep about, but Jethro was very uncomfortable and needed a lot of attention.’

‘It wasn’t you, Miss Maria.’ Susan seized the carving knife and attacked the ham as though it had done her a personal injury. ‘It’s not knowing when that creature will get back in the house again. Pass me the butter, would you, Miss Hester?’

Hester pushed the crock across the table. It had not just been nervousness that had interrupted her sleep. Endless fantasising about exactly how she should have dealt with Guy the day before had not helped either. ‘At least anyone outside would have seen Maria’s candle moving from room to room upstairs and would have known they would be heard if they attempted to enter.’ She tried, and failed, to stifle a cracking yawn. ‘Oh dear, I think we should take it in turns to have a nap today. Until Jethro is better and we have seen the last of these strange incidents, I fear none of us will sleep well at night.’

She opened the door for Susan to pass through with Jethro’s breakfast and drifted back to the table, regarding Maria’s heavy eyes with concern. ‘Is Jethro so very poorly, Maria? Perhaps we should send for the doctor again. Do you not think that perhaps some laudanum drops would help him sleep, then you can get some rest too?’

‘No, it is only what you would expect,’ Maria assured her. ‘He is thoroughly uncomfortable, still somewhat shocked, and miserable that he cannot get up. Shall I coddle some eggs? I could just fancy egg and toast. Do we have a coddler, do you know?’

They scanned the shelves, but failed to see one. Maria opened one of the doors to the cupboards flanking the fireplace, peered in, shook her head and opened the other. ‘Goodness, that’s a dank, draughty hole.’

‘I know, I think I must get a builder in to look at it. There must be a crack that the rain gets in, but I am certainly not going to investigate myself, last time I looked there was an enormous spider.’

Miss Prudhome shuddered and closed the door briskly. ‘No coddler. Never mind, I can improvise with a small bowl.’

By the time Susan came down-’I thought I’d better cut up his ham for him’-Maria was spooning eggs over slices of toast and Hester had made a fresh pot of coffee.

‘So what are we going to do today?’ she enquired briskly. ‘Other than all of us having a rest this afternoon? I think I might take the gig and drive into Tring to speak to a builder about that cupboard.’

‘His lordship’s groom’s been and seen to the cob,’ Susan volunteered. ‘I saw him when I came down to make up the range. Do you need me to help get Hector hitched up?’

‘Yes, please, Susan. Would you like me to fetch anything for either of you in town? I don’t feel more than one of us should be away at a time.’

‘If you could just find some darning wool for me.’ Maria produced a basket from beside the hearth. ‘I cannot match these stockings of Jethro’s in the village shop.’

‘And we are low on coffee,’ Susan added, helpfully tucking one stocking into Hester’s basket. ‘Do you think you should be driving into town all by yourself, Miss Hester? His lordship would lend you a groom, I’m sure.’

‘His lordship would probably tell me I shouldn’t be driving myself, more likely,’ Hester muttered under her breath. ‘I will be fine, thank you, Susan.’

They had just finished backing a placid Hector into the shafts, and Susan was tickling him under the girth to make him breathe in so she could tighten it, when the sound of hooves on the cobbles made both women look up.

Hester’s instinctive frown yielded to a smile at the sight of Sir Lewis Nugent astride a neat bay hack. ‘Miss Lattimer!’ He swung out of the saddle and came across to take over the last of the harness buckles from her. ‘Sarah told me about the accident to your manservant and I came over to see if there was any way in which I might assist you. How is the boy?’

‘Well enough, I thank you, Sir Lewis. Bruised and very shaken and sore, but he will soon mend with rest. The doctor has ordered him to stay in bed and I suspect the effort of keeping him there for a Sunnite will prove to be the main challenge.’

‘Then there is nothing I might do to help?’

‘You might recommend a builder to me if you will. There is a cupboard in the alcove of the kitchen chimney breast that is constantly damp. I assume there is a crack of some sort and I want to have it fixed before it damages the brickwork. I was just on my way to Tring to find someone to look at it for me.’

‘Let me see.’ Sir Lewis handed her Hector’s reins and strode towards the mass of the chimney.

‘The left-hand side, Sir Lewis. Oh, do take care of your boots, there is such a tangle of rubbish on that side.’

Nugent heeded her warning, stopping at the point where the cobbles were obstructed by a broken hurdle and a large, very mossy water butt.

‘That will be your problem.’ He gestured at the butt. ‘It is overflowing, and possibly there is a cracked downpipe, or perhaps some damage to the wall. It needs emptying and the pipe diverting away from the corner. Then we can see whether it will dry out.’

‘My steward will send one of the estate workers down to have a look at it. Why do you not drive back with me to Winterbourne Hall and speak to him yourself? Then you can agree to a convenient time, and I am sure Sarah will be delighted to offer you luncheon.’

‘Well, thank you, Sir Lewis.’ It was a kind offer and very neighbourly and Hester scolded herself for the sinking feeling that the promise of some time spent with Miss Nugent produced. Sir Lewis, on the other hand, was much more pleasant company. ‘I would be glad to do that if you think an unexpected visitor would not inconvenience Miss Nugent. Susan, expect me back after luncheon, and do make sure Miss Prudhome lies down for a rest later.’

‘I must not be away too long, Sir Lewis,’ she explained as he helped her up into the driving seat. ‘Ackland has had a very restless night and Miss Prudhome was up at all hours nursing him.’

The baronet swung up on to his mount and fell in beside the gig. ‘If you turn left out of your gate, it is straight on for about a mile. Restless, you say? Why not try a sleeping draught? I used one when I had a broken arm and I found it answered wonderfully; there is nothing like a good night’s sleep to set the healing process on its way.’

He dropped back as they passed through the gate and then cantered for a few strides to catch up. ‘The doctor did not give me anything,’ Hester said doubtfully.

‘I am sure I have the bottle still, it was only last year. It was Dr Forrest himself who prescribed it, merely a mild extract of poppy juice, you know. You can check with him,’ Sir Lewis added comfortably. ‘I can certainly recommend it. Good day, my lord!’

Hester looked to her right with a start to see the earl emerging from the vicarage driveway on his bay hack. Sir Lewis was already reining in, but she dropped her hands and the cob broke into a canter, sweeping her past Lord Buckland. She raised her whip in a neat salute as she passed and simply drove on until Sir Lewis caught her up.

Hester knew her colour was up and wondered what she could say to Sir Lewis to explain away her snub to Lord Buckland. She glanced across and caught a look of amusement on his face. She smiled ruefully in return.

‘Ah ha!’ he said in a rallying tone. ‘Have I discovered someone who is not one of his lordship’s numerous admirers?’

His look was so quizzical that she laughed. ‘Not at all; the earl has been all that is kind. It is just that he feels I should remove from the Moon House and I am not inclined to oblige him.’

She expected Sir Lewis to assume that worries about Jethro’s accident and the rumours about the house were behind this concern. Instead he looked serious. ‘Then he still wishes to purchase it? With the benefit of hindsight, I wish he had been before you in applying to my father.’

‘You know? Oh, but of course you must.’ Hester reined back to a walk.

‘His agent contacted my father only days after he had agreed the sale to you. Naturally he sent a refusal, but the man persisted, most strongly, asking for your name and direction.

‘Of course my father refused to disclose such details, particularly as a lady was involved, and soon after that he died. At the time we were in no mood to be harassed by such matters and I wrote to say there would be no further correspondence on the subject. Obviously the man was over-eager on behalf of his employer; I am sure the earl would not press in such a manner.’

‘No,’ Hester agreed thoughtfully. ‘No, of course he would not.’ But it seemed he had known when she was intending to move down to Winterbourne St Swithin and had taken care to arrive a few days before her.

She was still biting her lip thoughtfully when they arrived in front of Winterbourne Hall. Sir Lewis directed her round to the stables where he called over a taciturn red-haired man in gaiters and explained her problem.

‘Yes, sir, I’ll get right on it. Happen you’re right about the butt and the downpipe.’ He knuckled his forehead to Hester and strode away to a group of labourers who were grouped round a pile of bricks in one corner.

‘We’re always building,’ Sir Lewis remarked, helping Hester down. ‘Place seems to need constant attention; sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever get on top of it.’

Now he had drawn her attention to it, Hester could indeed see that the Hall was in poor repair. There was a long crack across one wall, a tarpaulin covered the roof of part of the stables and the paintwork on the windows of the main façade left much to be desired.

‘It is very charming,’ she said politely. ‘Is it Queen Anne?’

The baronet was explaining the history as he ushered Hester into the hall. ‘Now, where has Sarah got to? I left her engrossed in a book in the library.’

‘Miss Sarah is still in the bookroom, Sir Lewis.’ The butler took Hester’s gloves and pelisse. ‘Shall I send to say you are home, sir?’

‘No, we will go in.’ He opened the door on to a pleasant panelled chamber, its walls lined with shelves. ‘Sarah? We have a visitor.’

Miss Nugent appeared from an embrasure, a book in one hand and a parchment in the other. Her reaction on seeing who was at her brother’s side was startling.

‘Miss Lattimer! Oh, no! How can I tell you… oh my goodness!’ She sank down on a chaise, fluttering the parchment before her face.

‘Tell me what?’ Hester demanded with more sharpness than was strictly polite. ‘Please, do not distress yourself, Miss Nugent. Here, try this.’ She searched in her reticule and thrust a smelling bottle under the afflicted lady’s nose, producing a sharp recoil and an end to the posturings.

‘Lewis, look, see what I have found in this old book.’ Sarah thrust a volume into her brother’s hands. ‘I was looking up the family histories in an attempt to find more about the hauntings at the Moon House and this parchment fell out. You see, it says the evil grows with the waxing of the moon-the thing that walks by night in search of its lost love, hating all that are happy and live, strewing its love tokens as it passes. And then at the full moon…’

Love tokens? The roses? ‘Well?’ Hester demanded, looking at Lewis’s face as he studied the worn scrap in his hand.

‘At the full moon?’

‘At the full moon…, his voice shook slightly ‘…at the full moon death walks and-’

‘And what? What about death?’

‘I do not know.’ He handed her the paper. ‘It is torn at that point.’

‘And the moon is waxing,’ Sarah said, her eyes enormous.