ANNE ASHLEY – Lady Gwendolen Investigates (страница 11)

Amazed though she was, Gwen didn’t feel in the least overawed, simply because she had benefited from that recent, close association with one of the most endearing and unorthodox high-born ladies who had, over the years, rubbed shoulders with several crowned heads of Europe.

Consequently Gwen was able to greet her unexpected visitors with all the quiet dignity expected of a young widow, but without experiencing the least trepidation, while at the same time successfully concealing her natural curiosity.

On entering the comfortable, though undeniably faded, front parlour, Gwen experienced on odd mixture of surprise and slight disappointment. She didn’t quite know what she had been expecting to find awaiting her, but she supposed she would have imagined two members of the most influential family in the county to make rather more of an impressive spectacle.

Lady Florence was undeniably dressed in the height of fashion. Sadly the prevailing mode ill suited her thickening figure. The colour puce made her appear slightly liverish, and the ugly turban-styled bonnet did absolutely nothing to improve the strong-featured, aristocratic lines of a face that had long since lost any slight claim to beauty.

Her daughter, on the other hand, neither favoured her mother in looks, nor in stature. Taller than average height, and slender, Anthea Kershaw had been blessed with a good complexion; and although her features were regular, one would have considered her handsome rather than pretty. There was no denying either that her plain, unadorned gown suited her very well, and was undoubtedly of good quality. Nevertheless it was clearly the achievement of some competent seamstress and not the creation of a top London modiste, of which Gwen had seen numerous examples during her sojourn in the capital earlier in the year.

She was instantly drawn to the younger woman as much by the warmth of a full-lipped smile as the completely unaffected manner. As things turned out, it was none other than Miss Kershaw herself who gave the first inclination as to why Gwen had been honoured by the visit, once initial pleasantries had been exchanged:

‘I understand from my uncle that you were well acquainted with the latest unfortunate female to meet her end in Marsden Wood?’

‘That is true,’ Gwen confirmed, realising in an instant from whom Lord Cranborne must have attained this information, while in the next moment wondering just when Mr Northbridge had paid a visit to his illustrious neighbour and, more importantly, why.

It might have been purely and simply a social call, during which he had just happened to mention there was someone in the neighbourhood who wasn’t prepared to sit back and allow matters to rest. But even if this was so, his lordship, surely, would hardly feel so discomposed as to deem it necessary to send two close female relations to pay a visit on the person who just might stir up something of a hornet’s nest?

Thrusting the various puzzling possibilities to the back of her mind to mull over later, Gwen went on to explain the close bond she had enjoyed with Jane Robbins. Although both visitors expressed sympathy, Lady Florence wasn’t slow to change the subject in an attempt to discover more about Gwen’s life, her parentage and family history.

She betrayed a degree of surprise, not untouched by approval, when she learned that Gwen’s father had been a member of the old and very distinguished Playfair family heralding from Derbyshire; and that her mother had borne the name of one of the most influential families in the county of Shropshire before her marriage.

‘So your mother and one of my dearest friends, Constance Blanchard, that was, must have been related in some way. First or second cousins, perhaps?’ Lady Florence suggested, after taking a few moments to work out the possible relationship. ‘An excellent old family, the Blanchards. No title, of course, but worthy, all the same.’

Gwen was just silently debating whether or not to reduce drastically her standing in this aristocratic visitor’s eyes by revealing that her mother had not, in fact, come from the wealthy branch of the Blanchard family that owned a good portion of land in the county of Shropshire, when she was forestalled by Miss Kershaw, who took advantage of the temporary lull in the conversation by returning to the subject of the recent murders.

‘I mentioned to Uncle Charles only the other week that it’s getting to the stage where it’s unsafe for a female to walk anywhere unaccompanied.’

‘And I sincerely trust, Anthea, you would never consider doing such an outrageous thing!’ Lady Florence exclaimed, looking appalled at the mere thought. ‘Nor Lady Warrender, for that matter,’ she added, seemingly having already judged that there was, surprisingly, little difference in age between the young women. ‘A female must always adhere to accepted rules of behaviour, no matter how respectable her status.’

‘Very true, my lady,’ Gwen readily agreed, not knowing whether to feel amused or nettled by this quite unnecessary reminder of good conduct. ‘But you must remember that the majority of women in the land are not nearly so fortunate as we three. They cannot afford the luxury of maidservants or companions to bear them company whenever they choose to venture forth. Indeed, most are obliged to do so in order to survive.’

‘And they should be able to do so without fear of being attacked,’ Anthea Kershaw put in without hesitation, her views on the subject seemingly in complete accord with Gwen’s. ‘Furthermore, Mama, I have no intention of dragging along a reluctant maidservant whenever I wish to take a breath of air in the park. I would far rather have Felix to bear me company. And one could hardly consider him an ideal companion. Why, on every occasion we’ve ventured into the wood, he’s relapsed into a world of his own, quite oblivious to my presence. And do remember a goodly portion of the wood forms part of the Cranborne estate. Up until now all incidents have taken place in that far area, where people may roam quite freely. But there’s no saying, if there should be more attacks, in what area they might take place.’

‘Oh, Anthea, dear, pray do not!’ her mother implored, appearing genuinely distressed. ‘I do not know from where you get these callous notions and dark thoughts.’

The smile that pulled at one corner of Miss Kershaw’s mouth for once was not pleasant, and a decidedly uneasy, almost troubled, look appeared momentarily in her eyes as she said, ‘It’s undoubtedly inherited, Mama. A family trait, wouldn’t you say?’

The speed with which Lady Florence changed the subject took Gwen so completely by surprise that it was a few moments before she was able to respond to the question directed at her.

‘No, ma’am, I have no plans to spend any time in the capital this spring.’ She chose not to add that, although it wasn’t beyond her means now to do so, she had no intention of needlessly wasting money by enjoying the unlimited pleasures the capital had to offer in an attempt to alter her widowed state. ‘I fully intend to go into half-mourning and socialise a little from now on. But I’ve more than enough to occupy me here for the present,’ she added, glancing about her. ‘The house is sadly in need of refurbishing, and bringing up to date. I sometimes think I’ve been swept back into the past century when I walk through these rooms. Most all the furnishings, as you’ve possibly observed, are quite antiquated.’

‘If that is your objective, then, yes, you will have much to occupy you for the foreseeable future,’ Lady Florence agreed, rising to her feet, a clear indication that she had every intention of bringing the visit to an end. ‘Nevertheless, I sincerely trust you are not so busy that you cannot dine with us, before we make our yearly trip to the capital next month. I shall ensure you receive a formal invitation, Lady Warrender. If nothing else, it will offer you the ideal opportunity to recommence your socialising by meeting a few of your neighbours.’

It will offer me a great deal more than that, Gwen silently acknowledged, well pleased by the unexpected visit and the chance it would soon present to become acquainted with the local Justice of the Peace.

It wasn’t so much the formal, gilt-edged invitation card, which was delivered by hand the following day, that brought Gwen such gratification as the totally unexpected appearance on her driveway of a bang-up-to-date lightweight carriage, pulled by a superb pair of matched greys. Most surprising of all was that the carriage was being tooled by none other than Annie’s eldest brother, Ben, a circumstance of which Annie herself demanded an immediate explanation the instant she had accompanied her mistress outside.

‘Don’t work for the blacksmith n’more, Annie. Works for Mr Northbridge now,’ he revealed, looking well pleased with the change of situation. ‘Leastways, I reckon I do,’ he amended, ‘if Lady Warrender, ’ere, ain’t too keen to take me on.’

Gwen wasn’t quite sure what to make of this, and didn’t attempt to hide her puzzlement. ‘I’m sorry. Ben, I’m not altogether certain I know precisely what you mean.’