The Transformation Of Miss Ashworth

‘Far from it,’ he was swift to assure her. Then, after considering for a moment only, he quite deliberately added, ‘Only after you’d returned from that seminary did I find your company less than agreeable.’

Study her though he did, he could detect nothing to suggest she was in the least offended by the disclosure. Her smile had faded in an instant, true enough, but her expression gave him every reason to suppose she was more intrigued than anything else by the candid admission, before she eventually asked, ‘Why so?’

‘Because I found your behaviour during those few years leading up to your eventual departure from the Grange quite artificial,’ he told her bluntly, fervently hoping that by so doing it might result in a resumption, at least in part, of the relationship they had once shared, which had been based on mutual trust, deep affection and honesty.

He chose not to dwell on the reasons why he should wish for a resumption of their past close association as he gave voice to his earlier thoughts. ‘You attempted to ape the manners of your cousin Eugenie, and it simply didn’t work. It just didn’t suit you to play the simpering miss.’

One finely arched brow rose, as blue eyes studied him keenly. ‘I cannot recall you regarding Eugenie in the light of a simpering miss,’ she reminded him, with just the faintest trace of pique in her voice. ‘In fact, if my memory serves me correctly, I seem to recall your remarking once that her manners and conduct were beyond reproach.’

‘And so they were,’ he readily concurred. ‘And perfectly natural too. From the cradle your cousin had been strictly reared. You were not. Eugenie’s behaviour was scrutinised at all times for the slightest imperfection. You, on the other hand, were allowed to do more or less as you pleased. I thought at the time that it was not the wisest thing your father ever did, allowing his sister to persuade him to send you away to a school that was renowned for turning out débutantes who all behaved exactly the same. No doubt it was beneficial for some; for others, like yourself, it was nothing short of disastrous. The Colonel would have done better either to engage a stricter governess-companion to instruct you on how to comport yourself, or to send you to a school where standards were not so rigidly high. ’

He watched as she turned her head and stared intently in the direction of the neat yew hedge that divided the formal gardens from the shrubbery. ‘I’m sorry if I’ve offended you, Beth. Believe me, it wasn’t my intention.’

‘You haven’t offended me,’ she said at length. ‘You’ve merely given me pause for thought. No doubt I shall mull over what you’ve told me at my leisure, and decide if there is some justification for the criticism.’

Once again he became the object of a level blue-eyed gaze.’ At the risk of inviting further criticism, dare I ask how such an arbiter of conduct in the fair sex rates my behaviour now?’

Although half-suspecting her of mockery, he decided to be totally frank. ‘If what I have observed since your arrival here is a true representation of your character, and I would be most surprised if it was not, I should say you’re a young woman who conducts herself to please no one but herself, who is now totally without artifice and who is more than capable, still, of exuding an abundance of natural charm, when the mood takes her.’ He took a moment to slant her a quizzical smile. ‘You certainly had Charles Bathurst clinging to your every word during dinner.’

‘What utter rot!’ she exclaimed, while eyeing him uncertainly, as though unable to make up her mind whether his intention had been to compliment her or not. ‘It was simply that, apart from Ann and myself, no one sitting close to him attempted to engage him in conversation very much at all. The vicar and his wife, seated opposite, apart from one or two polite exchanges, virtually ignored the poor fellow throughout the meal. And your sister didn’t precisely exert herself to converse with him very often, either.’

‘Mmm…I have frequently remarked upon it that dear Constance is not altogether wise on occasions,’ Philip responded, as he began to guide Beth along one of the paths that led back to the terrace. ‘There’s some excuse for the vicar and his spouse, I suppose. They’re good people, but the Reverend Mr Chadwick wouldn’t wish to offend the more influential part of his congregation by becoming too friendly with someone who was considered a bastard by the vast majority of the polite world for the first two decades of his life.’

‘Great heavens!’ He had captured her full attention, and it clearly showed. ‘I was wondering throughout dinner why it was I couldn’t remember old Eustace Bathurst ever mentioning he had a nephew. Not that I ever knew the old curmudgeon very well, of course.’ She frowned suddenly. ‘But surely he must have acknowledged him at some point, otherwise why did he leave his property, not to mention all his wealth, to his nephew?’

‘Poor old Eustace had been in an unenviable position,’ Philip began to explain. ‘I discovered from Uncle Waldo that not only was Eustace’s brother a key player in the scandal that took place almost four decades ago, Eustace himself was on friendly terms with the sixth Viscount Litton who, incidentally, remained until his death Charles’s mother’s legal spouse. It appeared not to trouble Eustace a whit that his friend the Viscount, when in his cups, wasn’t above beating his young bride unmercifully for the slightest misdemeanour. Like so many others, Eustace considered it a wife’s lot to put up with a husband’s—er—peccadilloes’

Disgusted, but intrigued, Beth demanded to be told more.

‘It was after she had suffered a particularly vicious beating, that the young Viscountess was attended by the newly qualified Dr Cedric Bathurst. They fell in love, and as soon as the Viscountess was restored to health they ran away to live under assumed names as man and wife. Some few years later the Viscount succeeded in locating his errant wife’s whereabouts. Charles had been born by that time, but even so the Viscount flatly refused to grant his wife a divorce, and made life so difficult for the couple that they were forced to flee yet again. Eustace had no contact with his brother at all during this period. In fact, it wasn’t until after the Viscount’s death, some fifteen years later, when Cedric had been able to marry the mother of his child, and had set up a very successful practice in Northamptonshire, that contact between the Bathurst brothers finally resumed. But even so mud sticks, and there are those still unwilling to recognise Charles Bathurst as his father’s legitimate offspring and the rightful heir to Eustace Bathurst’s fortune.’

Once again Philip found himself the recipient of an assessing blue-eyed gaze. ‘But you are not of their number, I fancy.’

‘Assuredly not!’ he concurred. ‘But sadly there are those in these parts unwilling to offer him the hand of friendship. I am hoping he can rely on your support?’

‘That must rate as the worst insult you have offered me thus far!’ she returned sharply, her dark brows having risen in feigned hauteur. ‘Really, Philip, I’m astonished you felt the need to ask!’

For answer he gave a bark of appreciative laughter. Then, before she was able to do anything to avoid it, he entwined her arm securely round his and returned to the house to rejoin his other guests.

Chapter Three

Early the following week, while alone in the front parlour busily dealing with household accounts, Beth was informed that Sir Philip Staveley’s sister had called. A few moments later the lady herself swept unaccompanied into the room, appearing, it had to be said, slightly put out.

‘What a—er—very singular manservant you keep, Bethany, my dear,’ she began, after accepting the invitation to seat herself in one of the comfortable chairs by the hearth. ‘His odd manner gives one every reason to suppose that he isn’t solely an indoor servant.’

‘Rudge’s coat buttons over many duties, Constance,’ Beth confirmed, all at once realising what must have given rise to her unexpected visitor’s odd expression when first entering the room. ‘Although I wouldn’t be without him for the world, even I must admit he lacks the natural aplomb and social graces of an experienced butler.’

She smiled wickedly as a thought suddenly occurred to her. ‘Perhaps, if I’m feeling particularly vindictive one day, I might persuade your brother to have Rudge up at the Court for a spell so that he might pick up a few pointers from the very estimable Stebbings.’

As the teasing had clearly been wasted on her guest, who appeared quite nonplussed, Beth didn’t attempt to explain she had been merely jesting. Instead, she glided smoothly across the room in order to provide her visitor with some refreshment.

‘Would I be correct in assuming you imbibe the same revolting concoction as my good friend Ann?’ she asked, holding up a certain decanter containing a clear liqueur flavoured with almonds.

‘What…? Oh, yes, yes. A glass of ratafia would be most welcome.’

‘Each to her own,’ Beth murmured, providing herself with a glass of burgundy, before joining her guest over by the hearth.

‘Is Mrs Stride not to join us?’ Lady Chalford asked after gazing about the room in a decidedly vague manner. ‘Such a charming woman, not in the least ingratiating. Yet, at the same time, one gains the distinct impression she’s quite accustomed to socialising with those more fortunately circumstanced than herself.’

Although in her formative years she had been far better acquainted with Sir Philip than his sister, Beth knew Constance well enough to be sure that she was not in the least malicious by nature. There was no denying, though, there was a wide streak of quaint snobbery running through her, which had a tendency to surface from time to time.

Consequently, although she had no intention in taking up the cudgels on her friend’s behalf, Beth was not slow to reveal, ‘If I were to tell you that her maiden name was Carrington, and that she is closely related to the branch of that family owning many acres of Gloucestershire countryside, you’ll perhaps appreciate why she’s not overawed in polite company.’

Quickly realising she had captured her guest’s full attention by what she had thus far revealed, Beth was happy to divulge more in the hope that it might pave Ann’s smooth introduction into local society.

‘It is true that her father, like my own, was a younger son, and therefore was obliged to make his own way in the world. He joined the church, and ended his days as a well-respected, if not particularly affluent, clergyman. Needless to say, Ann too was obliged to earn her own living at a young age, and thanks to both her parents’ efforts received a well-rounded education. She eventually attained a post as governess with a family in Hampshire, where she met and subsequently married Major John Stride, who owned a modest property in the county.

‘When he went out to Portugal with his regiment, Ann was happy to accompany him. Sadly he lost his life at Talavera. It was around that time I arrived on the scene.’

Lady Chalford gave a sudden start. ‘Why, yes! I clearly recall darling Philip mentioning something about that only the other day—said something about wondering whether Colonel Ashworth had sent for you at all. My brother seemed to suppose it had been entirely your own decision to join your father out there.’

Beth attempted to hide neither her surprise nor her grudging respect. ‘Well, well, well! The clever devil! I wonder how he managed to deduce that.’

‘It is true, then?’ Lady Chalford prompted, after watching closely as Beth, her expression revealing absolutely nothing at all, merely turned her head to stare intently at the logs smouldering nicely in the grate.

‘Oh, yes, it’s true, right enough,’ she admitted at length. ‘Very few people know it, however. I don’t think even Ann was ever officially informed, though she might have guessed, of course.’

Raising one hand, she waved it in a dismissive gesture. ‘Still, we digress. Getting back to dear Ann’s history—her husband was with Wellesley in India, and the, now, Duke of Wellington thought well of him. Needless to say, even though she was my paid companion, she was treated with respect by the vast majority of the more discerning officers. She most always partook of meals with Papa and myself and, in consequence, has rubbed shoulders with a great many younger sons of the aristocracy. Little wonder, then, that she isn’t in the least diffident when in polite company.’

‘Indeed, no,’ Lady Chalford agreed, frowning slightly. ‘But I still think it strange that she agreed to be your paid companion when she might have returned to her house in Hampshire, and lived a genteel existence in her late husband’s home.’

‘You say that because you don’t know Ann very well,’ Beth told her bluntly. ‘Her husband, although a serving officer, was by no means a wealthy man, and did not leave his widow so very comfortably circumstanced. Besides which, the house is leased until the end of the year, and is presently occupied by a practitioner and his family. We’ve never discussed it, but I doubt very much whether Ann would wish to return there. Engaging in some genteel occupation for a few hours each week in order to enjoy a luxury or two wouldn’t suit her at all. She is both energetic and resourceful.’

Raising her head, Beth stared at the wall behind her visitor’s head, her mind’s eye easily conjuring up images from the past, the vast majority of which were not so very pleasant.

‘Having no desire to offend your sensibilities, ma’am, I shall say only this—my friend and I suffered hardship out there in the Peninsula. We witnessed many happenings to which any gently bred female would not normally be subjected. That said, I believe my years with the army were the making of me. Had I remained here in England, I would undoubtedly have eventually been coerced into marriage, more than likely a loveless union, and would by now be heartily bored with my lot.’

Lady Chalford’s expression was all at once one of both shock and disapproval. ‘But, my dear! It’s every young woman’s ambition, surely, to achieve a suitable match, and become a wife and mother?’

‘Not mine, it isn’t!’ Beth returned bluntly. ‘I might have thought differently at one time. Thank the Lord I’ve more sense now!’

Easily recognising the signs of mortification her plain speaking had aroused, Beth changed the subject entirely by asking her visitor if her call was merely social or whether there was a specific reason for the visit.

‘As a matter of fact, I did wish to consult with you on a particular matter,’ Lady Chalford admitted, after once again appearing slightly taken aback by the younger woman’s blunt way of expressing herself. ‘And so pleased to have this opportunity to speak with you in private.’ She shot a quick glance across at the door. ‘Are we likely to be disturbed, do you suppose?’

‘Only by Rudge, if he takes it into his head to bring in more logs. But don’t be alarmed. Despite his blunt manner, he’s remarkably discreet,’ Beth assured her. ‘And Ann isn’t likely to return much before luncheon. It just so happens the vicar’s wife, having somehow discovered Ann was the daughter of a clergyman, approached her on the evening of your dinner party, and asked if she would kindly assist in helping to distribute clothes to the needy in the parish.’ Beth cast a brief look at the plasterwork ceiling above her head. ‘And she agreed, more fool her!’

‘Well, it just so happens that that is what I wish to consult with you about.’