Reckless Griselda (10 page)

Griselda found herself reaching again for her comforting bolster. The evidence that Caroline needed could be supplied in a matter of minutes by herself. It would be so easy, and Griselda recognised the simple satisfaction that blackening his character would bring.

But she could not do it. It was not just the matter of her own reputation. It was Caroline. For Caroline loved him, that was clear enough. She would never have agreed to marry a man she did not love. Her doubts and her fears about him were indications of a heart sincerely attached. Griselda could not bring herself to be the cause of a broken heart.

No, there was only one person who should give an honest account of Thomas Thorpe’s actions to Caroline, and that was Thomas Thorpe himself – if he could be persuaded to behave so decently, and that Griselda very much doubted. But she would try. Even if the courts cleared him of breach of promise, there was still the great matter of his behaviour at the abbey to be surmounted. Caroline could not love a man who behaved in such a manner only a day after he had proposed to her. It would be a painful disillusion but an absolutely necessary one. He was not nearly good enough for Caroline and she must not marry him. On that Griselda was decided.

“Oh, how glad I am you are here, Griselda,” said Caroline. “I should not have known what to do if I had not been able to talk to you tonight. I only hope I can do you a similar service one day.”

Griselda managed to smile but she ached with her own duplicity.

When she was alone again, she found she could no longer prevent herself from crying into her pillow – hot, self-lacerating tears. Why had she been such a fool and given into her desire for him? And how could that angel of a man turn out to be such a shabby and commonplace devil?

“So what do you think of Sir Thomas?” Hugh asked Griselda the following morning as they walked along the seafront together.

“Do I believe him to be guilty, you mean?” she said.

“No, I meant nothing of the sort. I take his innocence as read and you should too.”

“Caroline does not,” said Griselda. “She is nervous now.”

“One is always nervous in the face of fire,” said Hugh, calmly. “That is quite understandable.”

“But what would you feel if it were proved to be true?” said Griselda. “Think how unhappy that would make Caroline. You would not have her heart broken, would you?”

“Nothing would make me more angry, but I do not believe it will be,” said Hugh. “She and Thorpe seem very well suited and I wish them joy.”

“You must think him a very fine fellow indeed, for you obviously think the world of Caroline,” Griselda could not help saying.

“I have always regarded her highly, that is true, but there is no more to it than that, Griselda.”

“I do not believe it,” said Griselda. “And I wish Sir Thomas Thorpe had long married his wretched Lady Mary and had never come to bother our dear cousin. Then you would be free to love her.”

“I do not love her,” said Hugh with a growl of irritation in his voice.

“Oh, do you not?” said Griselda. “Did you not love her as a child?”

“Perhaps, but loving a child is quite a different thing from loving a young woman of three and twenty.”

“But you could love her, I dare say, if there were no Sir Thomas. Very easily. And she could love you.”

Hugh’s face betrayed nothing and he said with typical calmness, “But there is Thorpe, and he has engaged her affections. A young man might give himself hope there, but I am old and sensible enough to protect myself against such feelings. You will learn that too.”

“Never!” exclaimed Griselda.

“That shows you have never loved yet nor had your heart broken, as I have. If you knew the pain of it, you would not wish it on yourself.”

Griselda was attempting to form a suitable retort when they were interrupted by the approach of a large and luxurious barouche, drawn by four very handsome greys.

“Heigh-ho,” said Hugh. “The enemy is showing himself.”

“Who?”

“That is my lord Wansford and his daughter,” said Hugh, taking off his hat and bowing slightly. Wansford signalled to his coachman to stop. “I wonder what he wants with me,” he said as the carriage drew up beside them.

“Good morning to you, Farquarson,” said Lord Wansford, getting out of the carriage and then handing down his daughter. “My daughter and I were about to take a stroll. Might we have the pleasure of your company?”

He was very elegantly dressed, of good height and good figure. In all he was a fine looking, middle-aged man and not the sort of man to forge documents, Griselda decided. Lady Mary was small and delicate. Dressed in a sumptuous blue silk twill pelisse with an equally stylish bonnet, she looked like a very expensive French doll and not at all objectionable. Without any difficulty at all, Griselda could imagine Sir Thomas Thorpe making himself agreeable to her. To have such looks as well as an inheritance would tempt any man.

“I am very delighted to make your acquaintance, Miss Farquarson,” said Lord Wansford, offering her his arm. “I must say I do like what this sea air does to the young ladies’ complexions, Farquarson. Makes them all look prodigious healthy.”

Hugh smiled and nodded as if he had never suspected Lord Wansford of anything underhand. Griselda managed to smile as well and they began to walk, the four of them – Griselda going ahead with Lord Wansford, while Hugh escorted Lady Mary.

“Is this your first time in Cromer, Miss Farquarson?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“And do you like it?”

“Very much.”

“I dare say all you young ladies like the seaside. My daughter seems very pleased with it. It is the first time she has seen the sea. She has been at school until lately, you understand, and has seen very little of anything.”

“But you are not here entirely for pleasure, I think,” Griselda could not help remarking.

“No indeed,” said Lord Wansford. “You’re Miss Rufford’s cousin, after all, and no doubt she will have confided in you.”

“Well – ” began Griselda, somewhat astonished.

“If you’re her friend, you won’t want to see her hurt. Tell her to give Thorpe up.”

“I do not think that it is my place to – ”

“Now, now, I shan’t take excuses,” said Wansford. “You must know it’s far better for her that this thing doesn’t go any further than it needs to. Thorpe belongs to my daughter. It’s as simple as that. You’ll forgive me for speaking so plain, I’m sure. I knew you father at Harrow – a splendid fellow, so I feel I may be candid.”

“What makes you believe that he is engaged to her?” said Griselda after a moment.

“He’s written to her,” said Wansford. “Half a dozen of the prettiest little love letters a young lady could ever hope to receive. Yes, he turns a nice phrase, does young Thorpe. Gets that from his mother, I dare say.”

“And Lady Mary showed you them?” said Griselda.

“Of course. She’s a good daughter. I didn’t ask her to show them to me, of course,” he went on. “I’m not so old-fashioned. She wanted my advice. Of course, it’s a hard thing to break to your cousin,” Lord Wansford continued. “And I don’t do this lightly. I speak as a father whose daughter’s happiness is at stake.”

“Does the fact that Sir Thomas has allowed this situation to arise not concern you?” Griselda said. “Do you not worry that your daughter may be disappointed in him?”

“Ah, well, you see, I’ve known Thorpe since he was a boy. I know he’s best kept on a short rein. This is just a rather unfortunate kicking up of the heels. He’ll do just as he should once he’s married my daughter. It isn’t so serious.”

“It is to Miss Rufford,” Griselda pointed out.

“Then let that be on Thorpe’s conscience. But I must protect my daughter. You appreciate that, I am sure, Miss Farquarson.”

“Yes, of course, my lord,” said Griselda not knowing what to make of this. She glanced back at Hugh who was making rather slow progress with Lady Mary. “A father could in conscience do no less.”

“I can see your excellent father has instilled all the virtues of common sense into you. Tell me, is he at Cromer with you? I should be very pleased to renew my acquaintance with him.”

“I’m afraid he is not,” said Griselda with no regret at all. She felt that under the baleful influence of Mrs Skene, Sir George would have lost no time in toadying to Wansford and would have emerged with very little credit.

“That is a shame,” said Lord Wansford. “Well, I trust I may become better acquainted with his son and daughter instead. And I know my daughter would be honoured by the friendship of such a sensible, handsome girl as yourself. She has not gone about much yet – you would do her a great kindness if you took her up a little.”

“I should think it was rather a kindness on Lady Mary’s part to take me up,” Griselda managed to say, somewhat mystified by Lord Wansford.

“You will dine with us then?” He stopped and turned to Hugh and Lady Mary. “Farquarson, you and your sister will dine with us, will you not? Tonight – I insist upon it.”

The invitation was so pressing that neither could escape it. Fortunately they had reached their turning up to the Church, and Hugh and Griselda could make their excuses and their farewells.

They stopped for a moment for Hugh to catch his breath – he was looking a little over-exerted – and watched the Wansfords walk back towards their barouche.

“His civility – it is very extraordinary,” remarked Griselda.

“Very,” said Hugh. “What can the man be up to?”

“That I do not know,” said Griselda. “Why should he be so in favour of this marriage? Do you think Lady Mary can really be in love with him? Did she say anything to you?”

“No, she is no great talker. Her feelings may only be guessed at. Thorpe tells me she is very obedient and that she has fallen in love to order.”

“Of course he would say that,” said Griselda. “I dare say he will say anything to make himself look better than he is. Really, Lord Wansford ought to be warned off. He says he wants his daughter to be happy. How can she be happy with Thorpe?”

“You do not like him at all, do you?” said Hugh. “I am very surprised. I should have thought he was exactly the sort of man you would admire.”

“No, I cannot admire anyone who is up to his neck in something so discreditable. In fact I think both Caroline and Lady Mary ought to have nothing to do with him. There – that would solve the problem, would it not?”

“How quick you are to judge him!” said Hugh with astonishment.

“As quick as you are to believe his innocence,” pointed out Griselda.

“I have to believe in it,” said Hugh. “After all, he has saved my life.”

“He did what?”

“He saved me from drowning yesterday. I would have mentioned it before, but he expressly told me not to. There, does he seem so discreditable to you now?”

They had reached the door to Hugh’s lodgings.

“No, but – ”

“I know exactly what you are going to say, Grizzy, but I shall not let you. I think him an honourable man and nothing you say will make me change my mind.”

She followed him into the hall, half-wondering if this was the moment to begin a detailed confession of what had happened on the last stage of her journey. But Hugh was at the foot of the stairs, his hand on the newel post.

“Will you excuse me for a half hour or so?” he said. “I must lie down and rest a little. There are plenty of books in the parlour, and Mrs Collins will make you a pot of chocolate if you are civil to her.”

“Yes, of course. You are not in pain?” said Griselda, worried now.

“Nothing that a rest will not cure,” he said. “Go and sit down.”

Griselda found she was too agitated to sit still. She stood picking up book after book from his table, never settling on anything, although Hugh had excellent taste and owned many of her favourite books. Mrs Collins brought in the promised pot of chocolate, and, cup in hand, she stood in the window embrasure watching the comings and goings in the street, that were busy enough to match the restlessness of her mind.

“I will tell Hugh everything,” she decided, coming back into the room and perching on a chair. “I do not care what he thinks of me, but I must make him see what kind of man Thorpe really is.” It would be a wretched task but she felt she must take some sort of action. She could not stand silently by any longer.

Mrs Collins came in. “Sir Thomas Thorpe is at the door, Miss Farquarson, asking for the Colonel. Shall I ask him to wait?”

Her first instinct was to send him away but then she thought better of it.

He entered, looking surprised to see her there. He was muddy and dishevelled, dressing in riding clothes, his face ruddy with exercise.

“Good day,” he said.

She did not get up from her chair to greet him.

“Your brother is not ill, I trust?”