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Authors: Ann Barker

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Perhaps because his mind was still more than half upon his betrothed, Ames was not as alert to danger as he might have been. When Isobel, catching him at the bottom of the stairs as if by chance (for she had been waiting for him ever since he had gone up them) said that she would be grateful for his advice, and would he please stroll in the garden with her so that they could have some private conversation, he therefore agreed at once.

Isobel was determined to make the most of this opportunity. She had not slept well the previous night, for she had lain awake for some time, thinking about Lord Riseholm and Miss Egan. When Hawkfield had raised the subject of the earl’s prospective engagement, she had followed her instincts and fled the scene as quickly as possible. Now, she could have kicked herself for not lingering. Had she not been so anxious to show no undue interest in Riseholm, she could perhaps have discovered more by
judicious
questioning. She had tried to extract further information from Lavinia, but it appeared that the subject had been dropped soon after her withdrawal.

The more she thought about the matter, however, the more she decided that Mr Hawkfield’s friend must be correct in his opinion. Miss Egan was not just pretty; she was very well behaved and virtuous, the kind of debutante who never put a foot wrong; quite unlike herself, in fact. To put it bluntly, Miss Egan was the kind of biddable young woman whom men like Riseholm ended up marrying. By way of contrast, she, Isobel, was the sort of girl with whom such men flirted and misbehaved as much as they could, but whom they never took seriously.

It was essential, therefore, that Riseholm should be brought to realize that someone
did
take her seriously, even if
he
did not. Having written to Riseholm indicating that Ames was almost on the point of proposing, it followed that she would need to make some solid progress that would warrant such boasting. Little
Miss Tasker was up in her room after her handsome fiancé’s duty visit. Thurlby was in his study, and Lavinia was helping Miss Wheatman to identify her grasses. There would be no one to interrupt.

She had thought long and hard over what private affair she might consult the vicar about. It ought to be some romantic entanglement in which she would feature as an innocent victim, then she could make play with wet eyelashes. After a little
heart-searching
, she had decided to give a carefully doctored version of her connection with Riseholm. There was always the possibility that Benjamin Twizzle might not keep quiet about his rakeship, so telling the vicar about his lordship’s ‘unwanted’ attentions would at one and the same time arouse the clergyman’s chivalry and spike Mr Twizzle’s guns. She was aware that she would be taking a bit of a risk, since it was essential that Lord Thurlby should not hear of her connection to Riseholm. If she bound Ames by the seal of the confessional though, he would have to keep quiet. Once she was engaged to him, it would not matter who knew.

‘Now, Miss Macclesfield, how may I be of assistance?’ Mr Ames asked, as they descended the terrace.

Isobel looked about her intently. ‘Not just yet,’ she said. ‘I fear being overheard. Let us get a little further from the house.’ They crossed the grass and walked down to a little bridge over an
artificial
stream which fed into an ornamental lake. Once across the bridge, they began to walk along a slightly rougher path, which took them through a pretty wood which in spring was carpeted with primroses, celandines and bluebells. ‘Oh,’ exclaimed Isobel. ‘It is a little uneven underfoot along here. Do you mind if I take your arm?’

The vicar politely disclaimed and extended his arm to her. She took it and smiled up at him; suddenly at that moment, he scented danger. ‘What a comfort it is to be able to walk along with you like this,’ Isobel said. ‘With any other gentleman of
course it would not be proper, but with a clergyman, I know that all will be well.’

At this, Ames experienced a feeling of relief. It was as a
clergyman
that she had sought him out. His instinct for danger had been wrong. ‘Tell me how I may advise you,’ he said kindly.

‘Before I do so, I must have your assurance of secrecy – your word as a clergyman.’

Mr Ames hesitated. He had been asked to keep secrets before and on one or two occasions, he had wished that he had not made any such promises. ‘I do not know …’ he began hesitantly.

‘The matter affects no other person,’ she insisted. ‘If I cannot unburden myself to you, I do not know where else I can turn.’ She dabbed her dry eyes with a handkerchief.

‘Then of course you must confide in me,’ he replied. ‘I will pass nothing on, I promise.’

‘Well you see, I have just come from London,’ Isobel began. ‘I am sure you know, Mr Ames, that London is a dangerous place, especially for a young girl like myself. It is difficult to tell the true from the false, and the virtuous from the wicked.’ She glanced sideways at him under her lashes. He seemed to be paying close attention. ‘It was when I first arrived in town that I met Lord Riseholm,’ she went on. ‘He was very kind and friendly to me when I was feeling awkward and shy.’ Lord Riseholm would have spluttered with laughter at this point. Timothy Ames did not know Miss Macclesfield so well, and although this sounded unlikely, he accepted that such could indeed be the case.

‘I was grateful for his kindness,’ Isobel continued, ‘and for that reason, perhaps, he began to think that I would welcome rather warmer advances. Lavinia’s invitation came at just the right time, as it meant that I could escape his attentions. Now, however, he has threatened to pursue me even to Lincolnshire. What should I do?’

By now, they had walked through the little wood, and were strolling along a path which continued on around the edge of the
lake. They reached a fork in the way, one side of which would take them deeper into the wood, whereas the other would lead them back along the edge of the lake and eventually back to the lawn again. Determinedly, the vicar led Isobel along the second of the two paths. ‘There is no doubt about your course of action,’ Ames replied. ‘I take it that your father is not aware of this
situation
? He must be informed so that he may take steps to make this man keep his distance. Your first duty must be to obey him.’

‘Yes of course,’ Isobel replied demurely. This time it would have been Isobel’s own father who would have been doing the sniggering. ‘However, he is abroad and my guardian in London is not a very motherly person. I can expect no help from her.’

‘Then in that case, Lord Thurlby would be your natural protector. You must unburden yourself to him and ask for his help.’

‘Oh I would, believe me; I have thought about it many times. But I do not find him truly sympathetic.’ She looked meltingly up into his eyes. ‘What must I do?’ she whispered. ‘You, of all people, must be able to tell me. I felt a strong pull of sympathy between us from the very first. Did not you?’

Ames looked down at her, horrified. Now, the letters of the word ‘danger’ flashed before his eyes, huge and flame coloured. ‘Why, I … I …’ he began.

Isobel knew better than to push things at this stage. She would only frighten him off. ‘Pray give my situation some thought,’ she said. ‘I know that your wise counsel will enable me to deal with Lord Riseholm should he dare to come near this place.’ Briefly, she squeezed his arm, then slipped her hand away, and strolled elegantly back towards the house, a smile on her lips. Of course he had been startled. Doubtless in this restricted society he would be unaccustomed to the admiration of someone as glamorous as herself; but he would soon come round.

L
avinia had gone out into the garden to pick some flowers. She had made a good selection of the summer blooms, but needed some greenery. She was just walking past one of the tall hedges near to the kitchen gardens, when she heard hasty
footsteps
, and around the side of the hedge came Mr Ames. When he saw her, he gasped with shock, then let out a sigh of relief. ‘Thank God! I thought it must be her!’ he exclaimed with real fervour, briefly losing control of his grammar.

‘Her? Whom can you mean, sir?’ Lavinia asked in puzzlement.

He turned brick red. ‘I beg your pardon,’ he said. ‘My … my wits have gone wandering, I think. You … you must excuse me.’

He would have turned away, but Lavinia touched his arm. ‘Forgive me, sir, but you are distressed. Can it be that you have encountered my friend, Miss Macclesfield?’

He did not speak at once, but glanced at Lavinia hesitantly. ‘It’s all right,’ she said reassuringly. ‘Isobel is an old friend, but I suffer no delusions about her.’

He closed his eyes briefly. ‘I do not know what to say,’ he said. ‘I hesitate to criticize one who is close to you but I …’

Lavinia put her basket down and invited the vicar to join her on a seat in the shade. When he hesitated, she added, ‘I promise not to flirt with you.’

He sighed and smiled ruefully. ‘That would indeed be a relief,’
he said, taking his place next to her. He told Lavinia in general terms about what had transpired, needless to say without disclosing matters that Isobel had asked him to keep confidential. ‘What do I do, Miss Muir?’ Ames asked eventually. ‘I do not want to be unkind, but really, I have to consider Caroline above anyone else. I will not have her distressed.’ He glanced at Lavinia then looked away, almost shyly. ‘I love her so much, you see.’

‘Yes, I know that you do,’ Lavinia replied warmly. ‘If it is any consolation to you, Isobel’s flirtations do not generally last very long.’

‘So what would you advise me to do?’ he asked earnestly.

‘Whatever you do, avoid being alone with her. And perhaps try to talk about something in a very dull, sanctimonious way. She cannot bear to be dull.’

‘I could explain the Greek origins of some of the words in the New Testament at considerable length,’ he said after some thought.

‘That should do the trick,’ she answered with a smile.

 

On the following day, which was Sunday, Lavinia visited Miss Tasker before the morning service and found her feeling very disgruntled.

‘As if it were not bad enough having to miss church, I am also very unlikely to see Timothy later in the day,’ she explained.

‘Oh dear,’ said Lavinia sympathetically. ‘Does he have to go elsewhere?’

‘The curate at St Philip’s in the next village is unwell, so Timothy has promised to ride over and take the service after he has led worship here,’ she said.

‘Why can he not come straight back here after the service?’

‘Because poor Mr Blenkinsop lives alone,’ Caroline answered. ‘Timothy told me so with the utmost patience. He would not come home with a clear conscience if he did not make sure that the curate had good fires lit and something hot to eat.’

Lavinia sat in sympathetic silence before saying, ‘I was just wondering if you had any messages for Mr Ames?’

‘Bother Mr Blenkinsop,’ Caroline said crossly.

‘Shall I tell him that?’ Lavinia asked playfully.

Caroline grinned reluctantly. ‘Give him my best love, if you please, and tell him that I am looking forward to seeing him tomorrow.’

‘Would you like to come with me to Caroline’s room to
entertain
her this afternoon?’ Lavinia asked Isobel as they walked to church with Lord Thurlby and Miss Wheatman walking behind.

‘Good gracious, no,’ Isobel responded. ‘I have something else I need to do.’ A note had arrived from Benjamin Twizzle, asking for another interview. She had no desire to meet him, but she did not want to antagonize him by putting him off.

They arrived at church at the same time as an acquaintance of Miss Tasker who had met Lavinia in Caroline’s company. As this lady wanted to enquire about the health of the schoolmistress, Lavinia was delayed for a few moments, so she was the last of the party to enter the church.

Miss Wheatman and Isobel had already entered the earl’s pew, and Lord Thurlby was waiting politely for her to go in before him. It happened, therefore, that Lavinia found herself with Lord Thurlby on one side and Miss Wheatman on the other.

The splitting up of Lavinia and Isobel was a very desirable
situation
, as far as Miss Wheatman was concerned. The older lady disapproved of any kind of acknowledgement of others in the service, and Isobel was a little inclined to whisper and giggle. The girl would not do so if she, Daisy Wheatman, was her neighbour!

Miss Wheatman was so determined not to be distracted from the service that she only raised her eyes from her prayer book in order to look at Mr Ames. Lord Thurlby, on the other hand, whilst properly attentive, was also aware of his neighbour in the pew, and when the vicar referred to meadow grasses by way of an illustration to his sermon, his lordship looked down at Lavinia
and smiled. I like the way his eyes crinkle up, she thought to herself as she smiled back.

They were about to stand for the final hymn when Lavinia accidentally caught the corner of her book with her hand and knocked it onto the floor. She bent to pick it up, but Thurlby was too quick for her. As he gave it to her and their hands touched, that familiar dart of feeling shot through her and she almost dropped it again. Their eyes met, and this time, his expression told her that he had had exactly the same experience.

The earl’s rank meant that their party was the first to leave the church and shake hands with Timothy Ames. Isobel lingered for a moment to tell him how very moving she had found the service. If she had listened to a single word, it would have been for the very first time, Lavinia reflected. She smiled as she overheard the clergyman telling Isobel about some of the Greek words that he had been obliged to look up in order to write his sermon.

Whilst Miss Wheatman exchanged remarks with a friend who was just coming out of church, Lord Thurlby said to Lavinia, ‘Forgive me, I did not mean to eavesdrop, but I overheard you asking Miss Macclesfield if she would like to help you entertain Miss Tasker this afternoon.’

Lavinia smiled. ‘Poor Caroline! She will be so glad to be up and about again. Mr Ames’s daily visits help to make her situation tolerable. She will miss him today.’

‘If I may make a suggestion, perhaps we might entertain her together, if you have no objection,’ said the earl. ‘I could have a look in the nursery and see if I could find some of our old games.’

‘I think that she would really like that,’ Lavinia replied.

‘But would you?’ he asked in a lower tone. At that point, Miss Wheatman approached them, so Lavinia was not able to ask him to repeat his remark. She was convinced that she must have misheard.

After dinner was over – that meal being eaten in the middle of the day on a Sunday – Lavinia went up to Caroline’s room, where
Thurlby joined them after hunting in the schoolroom as he had promised, but with limited success.

‘I’ve found some packs of cards,’ he said, ‘and a set of spillikins. I’m sure there were some other things, but I don’t know where they’ve got to.’

Miss Tasker was now allowed to lie on a day bed, so they set up a table next to her elbow and she took up one of the packs of cards. ‘These appear to be marked,’ she said after shuffling them.

‘Oh dear,’ murmured the earl, flushing a little. ‘My sins have found me out.’

‘You played with
marked cards
?’ Lavinia exclaimed in shocked tones.

‘I wanted to win,’ he said defiantly. There was a short silence during which both ladies looked at him reproachfully.

‘Lord Thurlby, how old were you?’ Caroline asked.

‘Seven,’ he answered. ‘Don’t look at me like that! My brother was seventeen! I
never
won.’

‘That is no excuse,’ said Lavinia severely. ‘I trust you paid a severe penalty.’

‘My father was very shocked, and quite ready to tan my
backside
for it,’ he admitted. ‘Luckily for me, my brother took the responsibility. He told my father that he was showing me what some unscrupulous people might do so that I would be wary.’

‘What an excellent brother,’ remarked Caroline.

‘He was the best,’ the earl agreed.

After they had played a game or two of cards, they turned to the spillikins for further amusement. Although Lord Thurlby’s hands were large, he proved to be surprisingly deft, and far more successful than Caroline, who, in her efforts to remove one of the pile of thin wooden sticks without dislodging any of the rest, managed to destroy the whole structure when she leaned over too far, knocked the table over and nearly fell off her day bed, to the great amusement of all concerned.

Lavinia, whose life in London had always been rather subdued,
even before Mrs Stancross’s illness, found herself laughing more than she remembered doing for a very long time. Lord Thurlby’s laughter, too, rang out over and over again, making him look a good deal younger and exceedingly handsome, or so it seemed to Lavinia. When they had had enough and the tea tray had been called for, Caroline declared herself to be amazed at how much time had passed. ‘I had quite thought that today would seem endless, but thanks to you both, the afternoon has flown by. What a happy time we have had.’ Both Lavinia and Lord Thurlby agreed wholeheartedly with this opinion.

Just two days later, the doctor pronounced that Miss Tasker could go home, if she promised to be very careful. ‘Make sure that you rest the ankle for some time each day for a week. Every afternoon with your foot up would do you no harm,’ he said.

‘Oh yes, and how would the children learn anything if I did that?’ Caroline asked. The doctor had come to see her at Thurlby Hall. She was up and dressed, but sitting on a day bed in one of the downstairs parlours, whence Lord Thurlby had carried her that morning.

‘That’s perfectly simple,’ put in Thurlby. ‘They will have an extra holiday, that’s all. The school can be closed until you are better.’ His lordship, together with Mr Ames and Lavinia, had gathered together to hear the doctor’s pronouncement after he had finished his examination. Isobel was upstairs writing a letter.

‘But that will never do,’ Caroline insisted. ‘The children will get out of the way of learning. They need to keep the good habits that they have acquired.’

‘I could help you,’ said Lavinia after a moment’s thought. ‘You know that I have been into the school now on a number of
occasions
to sew with the children, and they know me quite well.’

‘Forgive my saying so, but you are not the teacher,’ said Caroline diffidently. ‘It hardly seems fair.’

‘You would be there to refer to, my dear,’ the vicar pointed out. ‘And, of course, I could pop in as well from time to time.’

‘You could even borrow this day bed,’ suggested the earl. ‘It could be set up at the front of the school. You would still be in charge, but Lavinia could do the tasks that required moving about. Would you have any objection to that, Doctor?’

‘None at all,’ the doctor replied. ‘As long as the patient keeps off her feet as much as possible, then that is all that concerns me.’

‘I shall look like the Queen of Sheba,’ Caroline grumbled; but as it seemed that she was to be allowed to teach after all, she made no further objection.

BOOK: A Country Gentleman
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