A Lady Of Rare Quality

Annis wasn’t slow to comprehend. ‘A fortune-hunter, ma’am?’

‘Undoubtedly!’ Lady Pelham concurred. ‘Surprisingly, Helen has yet to see him for precisely what he is. However, as you know yourself, she is not prone to folly, and is mature for her years. It is my belief that, given time, she will overcome this foolish infatuation of hers and common sense will prevail, providing she is granted that all important time.’

Once again, Lady Pelham rose from her chair, only this time to pace about the room, clearly revealing her troubled state of mind. ‘My one great fear is that, if forcibly removed from Bath, while she remains utterly besotted, she just might be persuaded into an elopement. Then, I’m afraid, there would be nothing either her trustees or I could do to prevent that young ne’er-do-well, Mr Daniel Draycot, from getting his hands on at least part of her inheritance.’

Such was her perturbed state, she appeared to find it necessary to adjust one of the ornaments on the mantelshelf a fraction of an inch, only to return it a moment later to its former position. ‘You see, my sister Charlotte was determined that Helen, like your own mother, should marry for love. Helen will come into her inheritance unconditionally upon marriage, at least the money left to her by her mother, which is not insubstantial.’

Although Annis perfectly understood her godmother’s concerns, she still considered the problem could be easily resolved. ‘Why not simply do what Helen herself wishes, ma’am, and write to Lord Greythorpe suggesting a shorter visit later in the year? Surely that will satisfy all concerned?’

‘That is precisely what I did do, my dear, and my reply most definitely did not satisfy his lordship. He sent me this in response.’

Lady Pelham went over to the escritoire, and, quickly locating a certain letter, promptly presented it for Annis to read. A moment later she watched her goddaughter’s finely arched dark brows snap together, and the green flecks in the strikingly lovely grey eyes intensify, as they avidly scanned the missive written in a bold and unmistakably masculine hand.

‘The arrogance of the man!’ Annis tossed the letter aside in disgust. ‘Who on earth does he imagine he is, insisting his half-sister pays a visit when it suits his purposes? His maternal grandmother…?’ She paused to consult the missive once more. ‘This Dowager Lady Kilbane is no relation to Helen, after all, so there is no necessity for Helen to be present at the proposed birthday celebration to be held at Greythorpe Manor early in the spring. If I were you, ma’am, when the carriage he clearly intends sending to collect you arrives next week, I’d send it back immediately, with a letter stating in no uncertain terms that you will decide when your niece shall visit Greythorpe Manor.’

‘Believe me, my dear, nothing would afford me greater satisfaction,’ Lady Pelham divulged. ‘I very much fear Lord Deverel Greythorpe is not unlike his father, imperious and uncompromising, having scant regard for the feelings of others. Sadly, though, he is well within his rights to insist upon Helen visiting whenever he chooses.’ She smiled as Annis’s expression turned to one of consternation. ‘The late Lord Greythorpe, for reasons best known to himself, never took steps to divorce my sister after their separation. When he died, guardianship of the daughter he never acknowledged as his own, along with everything else he possessed, passed to his only son and heir, the present holder of the title.’

Misguidedly, Annis had always assumed that, after Charlotte’s demise, Lady Pelham had become Helen’s guardian, and didn’t attempt to hide her astonishment. ‘I never knew that, ma’am,’ she admitted. ‘It makes one wonder what can have been in the late Lord Greythorpe’s mind. Why did he not transfer guardianship to you after his wife’s death, as he clearly wanted nothing to do with Helen?’

Lady Pelham’s smile was twisted. ‘Whatever the motive, I cannot imagine it was because he had his youngest child’s best interests at heart. No, it is much more likely that he succeeded in putting her very existence from his mind.’

As this seemed highly probable, Annis nodded, before something else occurred to her as rather odd. ‘Why, do you suppose, has the present holder of the title suddenly taken such an interest in his half-sister?’

Clearly at a loss to understand this herself, Lady Pelham shook her head. ‘I do know that he has travelled extensively and was abroad when news of his father’s demise reached him, which is perhaps why he waited almost a year before making contact at all. The ancestral home covers very many acres of Hampshire countryside. There is also a smaller estate in Derbyshire and a fashionable London residence, both of which he has visited in recent months. He must have been kept very busy since his return.’

As this, too, seemed a reasonable enough assumption to make, Annis didn’t dwell on it. Instead she asked, ‘Do you suppose that he, at least, now that his father is dead, is prepared to acknowledge Helen openly as his sibling?’

‘If that is his intention, it could do the child nothing but good. I wouldn’t attempt to suggest that Helen has suffered greatly as a result of her late father’s unnatural behaviour, but there have been occasions when some heartless wretch has questioned her birth within her hearing.’

‘We must hope, ma’am, that her half-brother’s actions will check any future speculation, and that his wife too is disposed to look kindly upon your niece.’

‘Oh, he isn’t married, my dear,’ Lady Pelham disclosed, with a quizzical smile. ‘I cannot quite make up my mind whether that surprises me or not. I met him only once, when he paid an unexpected visit here, offering his condolences, shortly after Charlotte’s death. Whether he did so with his father’s full knowledge and approval, I’m not altogether sure, though I will say this, his expressions of regret at his stepmother’s demise did seem genuine. Understandably, after almost ten years, my memory of him is a little hazy, but I seem to recall thinking him a very serious young man, though not unappealing in a darkly brooding sort of way. And I seem to remember too someone, quite recently, mentioning that he resides with his sister who, if I remember correctly, is close to him in age and, like himself, has never married.’

Lady Pelham once again lowered herself gracefully into the chair, and for several moments stared meditatively at an imaginary spot on the carpet. ‘Helen knows nothing of Lord Greythorpe’s most recent letter. She knows nothing either of the extent of his authority over her.’

Annis was surprised to discover this and didn’t attempt to conceal the fact. ‘Great heavens, ma’am! Why on earth did you keep his guardianship secret?’

Lady Pelham shook her head, as though at a loss to know why herself. ‘The truth of the matter is that, even though I was informed, shortly after her father’s demise, that Deverel Greythorpe had become Helen’s legal guardian, I never gave the matter a second thought. Her father never once attempted to interfere in her upbringing, never attempted to make contact at all, come to that. It never occurred to me to suppose that her half-brother might behave differently.’ A further sigh escaped her. ‘Believe me when I say that I didn’t deliberately keep the guardianship secret from Helen. All the same, I cannot help feeling that it would be a mistake to reveal it at the present time, while she is still viewing a certain unscrupulous young rogue through a rosy haze.’

Annis, having no difficulty understanding this viewpoint, at last began to appreciate the extent of her godmother’s grave concerns. ‘You fear that Helen just might be persuaded into believing a prolonged visit to Greythorpe Manor is a ploy on your and her guardian’s part to separate her from her beau?’

Given her troubles were many at present, Lady Pelham managed a secretive little smile. ‘Not only that, my dear, I sincerely believe it would be a grave mistake to cancel our visit to Devonshire, for I’ve recently discovered that Mr Draycot is, for reasons best known to himself, not at all keen for Helen and I to go there. And I feel sure his objection does not stem from a desire not to be parted from Helen.’

‘How interesting!’ Annis was intrigued. ‘You suspect he fears that you might uncover something unsavoury about him there?’

‘That is precisely what I do think, yes,’ Lady Pelham admitted. ‘And, to be perfectly truthful, what I am hoping. He did on one occasion let fall that he stayed for a short space in that part of the world, though whether in Okehampton itself, where Helen’s friend resides with her parents, I’m not altogether sure. Although I believe Mr Draycot has attempted on more than one occasion to persuade Helen to cancel the visit, declaring he cannot bear to be parted from her even for a few days, she has withstood his pleas thus far, and remains determined to go.’

Lady Pelham returned to her chair as the sound of voices filtered through from the hall. ‘Unless I am much mistaken, Helen has once again come upon Mr Draycot…er…quite by chance, you understand, during her walk in the park, and has, unless my hearing is defective, invited him back for refreshments. You may judge for yourself what manner of man he is. But have a care, Annis, my dear,’ she warned in an undertone. ‘Helen does not expect to discover you here. So you must say your visit is purely impromptu; that you are on your way to stay with friends, and that you simply couldn’t pass so close without visiting us for a day or two. On no account must she discover that I have sent for you.’

As a direct result of that one and only encounter with Mr Daniel Draycot, Annis did not linger in Bath. Within the space of two days, she was travelling across the country again in a hired post-chaise, only through Hampshire this time, a county she had never visited before.

Ordinarily Annis would have found sufficient to capture her attention, even this early in the year, when the countryside was most definitely not looking its best, had it not been for the fact that she was more interested in reaching her destination without delay.

Unfortunately, since her departure from that once-fashionable watering place, the weather had taken a definite turn for the worse. Within the space of twenty-four hours the temperature had plummeted, the country was now being buffeted by a biting-cold east wind, and the leaden sky, which had looked grimly threatening all the morning, was finally adding to the sufferings of hapless travellers by liberally scattering frozen droplets across the landscape.

‘I ought to have bespoken rooms back at that posting-house, instead of foolishly attempting to reach Greythorpe Manor today,’ Annis confided to her sole travelling companion. ‘Both you and the post-boys predicted snow before too long.’

‘You’re not one to ignore sound advice,’ Eliza Disher, ever loyal, countered, ‘leastways, not unless you have good reason. I know well enough that you’re not at all comfortable with this task Lady Pelham has set you. So the sooner it’s over and done with the better you’ll feel, my lamb.’

‘That’s assuming his lordship is willing to receive me,’ Annis responded, smiling despite the fact that she was under no illusion about this herself.

Of course, there was a very real possibility that she might be denied admittance, and the discomforts she had suffered during the past days, travelling about the country at a most unseasonable time of year, would have been for nought.

‘It is true I carry a letter of introduction from my godmother. Whether or not it will suffice, and I shall be granted the interview I seek with the Viscount, is a different matter entirely. Furthermore, as what I wish to discuss is of a very personal nature, I might well be shown the door long before I’m able to state my godmother’s case fully.’

‘I see it this way, Miss Annis, you can do no more than your best,’ the lifelong maid encouraged, thereby winning herself a loving smile from the young woman whom she had helped bring into the world almost twenty-four years before. ‘I know you better than most anyone else does, and know that unless you believed you were doing right to speak up for Lady Pelham, you wouldn’t be here now.’

Silently, she acknowledged the truth of this. Lady Pelham was one of the few members of her own mother’s social class whom Annis openly admired. A widow of many years, Henrietta Pelham was intelligent and good-natured, a lady who had taken her responsibilities as a godmother seriously indeed. It was mainly thanks to her that Annis had been able to sample those entertainments enjoyed only by the most privileged class during the many visits she had made to Bath, both before and since her beloved mother’s demise.

Undertaking this mission now was a way of thanking Lady Pelham for the many kindnesses she had shown towards her over the years, but even so Annis had not made her decision without giving the matter a deal of thought first.

‘Well, Dish, every instinct tells me that Lady Pelham has good reason to be suspicious about Mr Daniel Draycot. A rogue and no mistake! I don’t doubt my godmother’s ability to manage things, providing of course she is granted the opportunity. It’s up to me to do my utmost to ensure that she is given sufficient time to reveal Draycot’s true—’

Annis broke off as the carriage came to an unexpected and abrupt halt in the middle of the road. The snow was nowhere near heavy enough to contemplate abandoning the journey quite yet. So she could only assume that the post-boys, not quite certain of the precise location of Greythorpe Manor, were debating between themselves which fork in the road to take.

Drawing her cloak more tightly about her against the inevitable blast of cold air, Annis let down the window, and demanded an immediate explanation for the delay. An apologetic post-boy was before her almost at once, appearing decidedly ill at ease as he revealed the surprising intelligence that there was what appeared to be a body lying in the road, just up ahead.

Naturally surprised, but not unduly alarmed, Annis alighted from the carriage the instant the steps had been let down, with the fiercely protective Disher close on her heels.

She had grown accustomed throughout her life to being compared with her father. Not only did she resemble him in looks, but, to a certain extent, in character too. Undeniably she had inherited the late Dr Milbank’s acute powers of observation, which she put to good use as she approached the clearly masculine form lying prostrate in the road, and the handsome chestnut gelding standing a mere few yards away from his evidently injured master.

After casting a cursory glance over her left shoulder at the trees that edged the road, Annis dropped to her knees in order to examine the stranger more closely. The blood oozing from a scorched portion of his jacket sleeve, between shoulder and elbow, told its own tale, as did the slight swelling and gash on his forehead. With her maid’s assistance she managed to turn the stranger over on his back. Unfortunately a brief examination of his various pockets did not reveal his identity, merely the fact that the motive for the attack was unlikely to have been robbery.

‘Begging your pardon, miss,’ the agitated post-boy said as Annis, after a closer inspection of the area surrounding the injured man, rose at last to her feet, ‘but we’d best not linger. No saying as who might still be about, lying in wait,’ he added, before he turned, eager, it seemed, to rejoin his colleague and remount his horse.

‘You are not proposing, I trust, to continue the journey and leave this poor fellow here?’ Annis asked, raising her fine, expressive brows in faint hauteur, a gesture that never failed to put Disher in mind of her young mistress’s aristocratic grandmother, in her time a fearsome matriarch whom one had defied at one’s peril.

The look had the desired effect. The injured man was subsequently deposited in the carriage by the two stocky post-boys, though not without a deal of grumbling, and muttering of colourful oaths. Not disposed to linger herself, Annis did not hesitate to order the resumption of the journey once the stranger’s fine gelding had been secured to the back of the conveyance.

‘Are you hoping someone at Greythorpe Manor might know who he is?’ Disher asked, after watching her mistress’s attempt to make the stranger more comfortable by placing a fur muff beneath his injured head, and covering him with a rug.

‘If he’s from around these parts, and I have every reason to suppose he might well be, then, yes, there’s every chance he’ll be known by someone at the Manor.’ Annis took a moment to study the evident aristocratic lines of a face that, although not handsome, was ruggedly attractive and full of character. ‘His clothes alone suggest a man of some means. His mount too is a fine piece of horseflesh. Moreover, gentlemen with funds aplenty at their disposal usually travel great distances by carriage, not on horseback. That is why I’m inclined to believe he’s local.’

Disher smiled. ‘How you put me in mind of your sainted father at times like these, Miss Annis.’

If she had suspected this praise to be received with any degree of pleasure she was doomed to disappointment. When she attained no response whatsoever, she turned her head, and was surprised to discover deep lines of concern furrowing her young mistress’s intelligent brow. ‘What’s troubling you, miss? Do you suspect the gentleman is badly hurt?’

‘A more thorough examination is needed to be sure, but I wouldn’t have said so, no,’ Annis answered promptly. ‘Clearly he’s been shot, but that I suspect is nought but a scratch. The gash to his head is the more serious injury and, unless I’m very much mistaken, was sustained when he fell from his mount.’ She frowned again, perplexed. ‘What I find hard to understand is the motive for the attack. It certainly wasn’t robbery. You saw yourself the size of the purse I drew from his pocket.’