ANNE ASHLEY – The Transformation Of Miss Ashworth (страница 2)

Completely unruffled, Sir Philip Staveley signed his name with a flourish, before rising to his feet and joining his sister at the window. ‘I would be extremely surprised, Connie, if that shooting accident was anything other than just that. Remember, it took place on my land. In all probability the culprit was one of my neighbours’ over-enthusiastic sons discharging his gun without due care. And as for that carriage… I very much doubt all the occupants can be total strangers, otherwise entry would have been barred, most especially by Dodd on the east gate. Furthermore, that conveyance, unless I much mistake the matter, has travelled some distance, possibly from London.’

Lady Chalford turned her head to stare up at her much taller brother, thereby instantly revealing a similarity or two in their profiles. Both had inherited certain Staveley facial characteristics—the long, thin aristocratic nose, not to mention clear, grey eyes.

Unlike his sister’s, however, Sir Philip’s orbs had once betrayed a disarming twinkle that a great many members of the fair sex had found most winning. His hair, a shade or two darker than his more mature sibling’s, swept back in soft waves from a high, intelligent forehead. A firm jaw-line, a shapely yet not overgenerous mouth, and a pair of gracefully arching brows above those thickly lashed eyes were all features worthy of note; and although he might not have been considered strictly handsome by the more fastidious among his class, a great many discerning female members considered him most attractive.

Which was more than could be said for his sister, whose youthful bloom had long since faded, and whose thickening figure betrayed the fact that she had presented her spouse with several pledges of her affection during fourteen years of marriage. Notwithstanding, even her fiercest critics would never have stigmatised Lady Chalford as an ill-favoured woman. In fact, when animated, as now, she still held an appeal to a certain number of the more mature members of the opposite sex.

‘You’re bamming me, Philip!’ she chided gently. ‘How can you possibly deduce that?’

‘By using my eyes and brain, Constance,’ he returned, slanting a mocking glance down at her. ‘Firstly, not many can afford the luxury of travelling in a post-chaise-and-four. Those in these parts with funds enough to do so, like myself, own their own carriages. Secondly, the majority of the larger houses in the locale lie to the north and east of my property. Furthermore, there is only one house situated on the western boundary whose owner has been absent for any length of time, and whose return might well be undertaken in a hired carriage.’

Lady Chalford’s jaw dropped perceptively, a clear indication that her mind had woken up to a startling possibility. ‘You don’t suppose, do you, that young Bethany Ashworth has returned home after all these years?’

Unlike his sister, Sir Philip betrayed no emotion whatsoever as he said, ‘Naturally, I shan’t know for sure, until I’ve consulted with Dodd. All the same, it’s a distinct possibility. Augustus Ashworth, together with his associates and members of his family, was among the favoured few who attained permission from our sire to take a short cut across the park in order to reach the village more quickly.’

As the post-chaise at last disappeared from view behind a screen of stately elms, Sir Philip moved across the room in the direction of a small table upon which several decanters stood. ‘Common report would have me believe the shutters have been removed from the Grange’s windows these past three weeks or more, and that a couple of village girls have been hired to work in the house. Seemingly someone, I know not who, has been buying in supplies of food, and making use of several local tradesmen in order to make the house ready for habitation.’

‘It stands to reason, then, that Bethany must be returning home,’ Lady Chalford concluded, after having accepted the glass of ratafia her brother held out to her. ‘What other explanation could there possibly be?’ she asked, rearranging her skirts as she made herself comfortable in one of the chairs.

Seating himself opposite, Sir Philip gazed across at his sister with lazy affection. Fond of her though he had always been, he had never rated her capacity for understanding very highly. At the same time he did appreciate her finer qualities. For instance, she was, basically, a very kind person, never one to bear a grudge or utter a deliberately unkind remark. Moreover, as she had never attempted to make unreasonable demands on his time, he was able to ignore for the most part her less favourable traits when she did choose to inflict her company upon him for a prolonged stay.

‘Several, my dear,’ he responded, after fortifying himself from his glass. ‘Dodd, as I mentioned before, must have recognised at least one occupant of that vehicle, otherwise he would not have allowed entry. It might have been Beth, of course. Or it might easily have been the late Colonel Ashworth’s man of business, who could well have received instructions to ensure the house is in good order for a new occupant.’

He couldn’t forbear a smile at his sister’s look of utter bewilderment. ‘Evidently you hadn’t considered the possibility that Beth might have chosen to sell the house in order to live elsewhere, possibly abroad,’ he went on. ‘After all, she’s lived away from these shores long enough. And now I come to think about it, when last I saw Lady Henrietta Barfield during the Season she mentioned something about her niece’s intention to remain in Paris for a while.’

All at once Lady Chalford was silent, clearly in a world of her own, before surprisingly announcing, ‘Do you know, Philip, I always considered her actions most strange.’

Philip paused in the act of raising his glass to his lips again to gaze across indulgently at his sibling. Clearly her thoughts had spun off at a tangent. In which direction, however, was anybody’s guess.

He wisely took the precaution of taking a further fortifying mouthful from the contents of his glass before asking, ‘Are we referring to Beth, now, or Lady Henrietta?’

‘Why, Bethany, of course!’ his sister exclaimed, clearly amazed at having been asked the question in the first place. ‘I never quite understood why she went to live with her mother’s relative in Plymouth. Surely Lady Henrietta Barfield was her favourite aunt?’

‘That I couldn’t say with any conviction,’ Philip responded. ‘After her mother’s demise, she certainly spent time with her father’s sister. And it’s also true to say that Lady Hetta, taking an active role in Beth’s upbringing, was a more frequent visitor to the Grange than any other relation. But you must remember that Colonel Ashworth was summoned urgently to London in the spring of ’08, and soon afterwards set sail with Wellesley for the Peninsula. Poor Beth was hardly granted much time in which to consider where she wished to reside. And who knows, maybe she felt that Lady Henrietta had interfered in her life quite enough. Or maybe she just didn’t wish to be an extra burden on the Barfield family at a time when they were fully occupied with matters relating to Eugenie’s future.’

At mention of his deceased fiancée, Lady Chalford shot her brother an anxious glance from beneath her lashes. It was rare, indeed, for him ever to allude to that period in his life, let alone his engagement to Lord Barfield’s beloved eldest daughter. During the past years, whenever the topic had been raised within her hearing, he had never been slow to change the subject.

Notwithstanding, this knowledge did not deter her from saying, ‘But that is precisely what I find so puzzling. She and Eugenie were so close—more like sisters than cousins, I seem to recall someone remarking once. One would have quite naturally supposed that Beth would have wanted to be with the Barfields at a time of such celebration.’

All at once it seemed as if her brother’s face had been cast into shadow, his lids lowering like shutters, concealing any emotion mirrored in his eyes.

‘As I said before, Constance, I’m sure Beth had her reasons for choosing to live with her late mother’s aunt. You may be lucky enough to satisfy your curiosity if she has, indeed, returned,’ her brother replied, with the all-too-familiar hint of finality in his tone that revealed clearly enough that he considered the topic at an end.

When residing at the Court Sir Philip generally kept country hours, and the following morning proved no exception. As his sister preferred to break her fast in her bedchamber, he enjoyed the leisure of a solitary breakfast, before setting off on horseback for the prearranged meeting with his steward.

It was a common sight to see the master of Staveley Court out and about at an early hour, astride one of his prime horses. From a very young age he had betrayed a keen interest in husbandry, and, since coming into the title, some seven years previously, his love of the land had not diminished in the least.

He concerned himself with every aspect of the day-to-day running of the estate, and the welfare of his tenants, who farmed his many acres of West Country land. His steward knew well enough that he could consult with his master on any problem, no matter how trivial, and made a practice of doing so quite frequently. All the same, as their meeting the day before had been fairly lengthy and involved, their business that morning was soon concluded, leaving Sir Philip with ample time to do as he wished before he need return to the Court for luncheon.